Chapter 3: Love is complicated

The next morning Mary woke up feeling excited. As she stood in front of the mirror and brushed her hair(she had learnt to do this herself) she decided she ought to experiment with a new style. Her hair was long and smooth and strawberry-coloured, and she was proud of it.

Just then Martha knocked and came into the room, and Mary quickly dropped her hands to her side. She badly didn't want to seem vain-but she wasn't, was she?

"G' morning, tha! What was tha doing with tha's hair?"

"Nothing, Martha. What should I wear today? Oh Martha, I heard that your sister, Kit is coming!"

"Aye, Kit's just about a year younger than me, Miss Mary. She was finding a job, and so I told Mr Craven and he asked her to come. A kind old gentleman, he is, Mr Craven. Now Just wash up and change and tha'll have breakfast in the carriage. I suggest a dress with colour of a good cheer, Miss Mary, and nothing too frilly and fancy."

When Mary was done she raced downstairs to the front door. The carriage was there, all ready, and Cook and Colin were inside.

"You are late, Mary!" Colin teased as Mary clambered hastily.

"I am not. Oh bother, did you bring your money?! I forgot all about it! We can't buy things with no money!" She wailed, flustered.

"Stop fussing, I brought all my savings with me. Father gave me a big note too," Colin replied, displaying his purse. Mary sighed, relieved.

And so they set off, munching their breakfast, talking about Mrs Medlock leaving, predicting how Kit Sowerby would be like and discussing what to buy throughout the dreary journey across the moor. Cook sometimes joined in the talk, she was a middle-aged woman, and though very commanding she was very chatty and motherly, always smelling of good things cooking in the kitchen. Mary and Colin liked her.

Throughout the ride Mary kept her face at the window, looking out at the moor. The moorland was beautiful in the mornings.

Colin was looking at something else. At Mary.

Colin had liked Mary Lennox from the start, when he was still a sickly young thing. He didn't have any proper friends and welcomed Mary's company with open arms. And he spent numerous nights lying in bed thinking, if it wasn't for Mary he might still be that ill, unpleasant boy he was. Mary changed his life, and he was grateful to her, though he didn't voice that out. One had to be humble to say thank-you and sorry, and Colin wasn't very good at being humble.

But one thing he didn't like about Mary-was-well, Dickon. Whenever Mary was talking alone with him, Dickon would always be brought into the conversation, and Colin grew rather sick of it. He was the one who liked Mary- and he felt that no one else should, because Mary was his for always. Colin didn't like how she described Dickon as an 'angel'. Colin had asked her to marry him in the future, and Mary didn't take him seriously. That was three years ago, when they were ten. It wasn't any childish talk- Colin was really quite serious about it. Mary had just scoffed at the idea, and after thinking and observing for some time, Colin realized that the problem was Dickon. But he couldn't confront Dickon about that, for Mary would start to dislike him. And so there was nothing he could do but keep mum about it. Mary could sometimes sense his efforts to make her like him, but the effect was minimal. She was always preoccupied about other things-and never thought about liking Colin in that way. After all, they were cousins.

And so Colin Craven sighed, defeated. But Mary was too busy looking out to notice.

Now, the 'town' they were going to wasn't exactly a town, it was more of a village at the edge of the moor. And soon, the carriage drew up at agate in a fence. The run-down wooden fence separated the village from the wilderness of the moor.

Everyone piled out.

"Now, children, you follow me closely. I hear you want to buy some presents, is that right? Now you just follow me or you'll get lost. I know a shop which sells lovely odds and ends. And I shall drop you two there and go to the market. You are not to wander about, alright?"

Mary and Colin nodded excitedly, and followed Cook through the wide dirt path.

The village air was noisy, filled with the voices of many people. The streets were bustling, the heads of women popped out of the cottage windows, shouting across to one another. Young, playful children ran amok the streets, occasionally bumping into them. Mary thought they were sweet, in fact, she found the hustle and bustle of village life quite fascinating but Colin found the children rather rude.

Soon they reached a corner shop. A young girl with a basket of flowers was standing next to it.

"Here," Cook instructed, "is the shop I am talking about. Now I will be at the village square buying my goods and I shall be back in about half an hour. I think I shall stay there longer and have a chat with my friends, so you two young uns can have more time to enjoy, eh?"

They nodded again. Colin was staring at the flower girl. He suddenly had a brilliant idea. A 'brainwave', as he called it. He hated how he was always jealous of Mary and Dickon, for he thought it should be the other way around, other being jealous of him. He was, after all, the 'Rajah', the one who got what he wanted all the time. Now was his turn to make Mary jealous of him. He felt like he was about to play a game.

She looked about his age, and was holding the basket tightly in her hands, looking back at Colin.

As Cook left she approached them.

"Would you like to buy some wildflowers?" she asked shyly, holding out the basket.

She was pretty, and had shoulder-length blonde hair which was a brighter colour than Colin's, for his was rather pale and bleached.

Her sunny-yellow hair was held back with a blue bow and light freckles dotted her face, giving her a healthy, sun-kissed look, and she wore a sky-blue cloth dress, which looked like rags next to Mary and Colin's high quality clothes which were rich in colour.

Now, Mary hadn't interacted with other girls her age for a long time. Even when she had the chance(when she was in India) she couldn't get along with them. Being in England with only two playmates, Colin and Dickon, who were boys, she wasn't very good at communicating with girls, though she was one herself.

"Why do you sell flowers, when we can just get them for free at the moor?" Mary asked the girl, gesturing in the direction of the moorland.

"Oh, but people do buy them." The girl replied politely. "You see, some people just don't visit the moor often, because they spend all their time at work. And they want flowers to decorate their homes, or give them to their loved ones. And even when they do visit the moor, they don't necessarily pluck the best flowers-which I do," she giggled. Colin laughed too, though his was a little shrill. He made up his mind to laugh a more hearty and manly laugh at the next opportunity.

"You pluck the flowers from the moor?" Mary asked, surprised. "Isn't that rather silly? You are picking up free things from nature and selling them for yourself!"

The girl was rather taken aback, and fingered her flowers nervously. "I-I…"

Colin jumped to her rescue. "But that isn't silly, it's smart! It's a tactic! Where you get the goods for free and sell them for a price, and get optimal earnings." He said defensively, and received a grateful smile from the girl. Personally he was shocked at himself and how protective he suddenly felt towards her.

"A business tactic, that is", he continued proudly in his best scientist voice, hoping to receive another smile from the girl. And it worked, she smiled sweetly again and nodded eagerly. Colin was ecstatic. He liked the way she smiled at him.

But Mary, on the other hand, was growing impatient.

"Colin Craven, we came here to buy gifts for the Sowerbys and not to chat with strangers we don't even know properly." And she pulled him into the store.

But Colin pulled his arm away and turned to girl, and asked for her name.

"I'm Ellen Heaton. And you are…Colin Craven?"

"Yes," Colin flushed. "Well, see you around," he said, as Mary dragged him into the store.

There they wasted no time and began choosing the gifts. Though it wasn't a very big store it had quite a variety. Eventually they settled on some candles which were useful on dark nights, a large tin of chocolate biscuits that could last the children some time, some handkerchiefs and a rag doll.

"We ought to get them these," Mary exclaimed, showing Colin the handkerchiefs. "I've seen Dickon's and it's practically falling to bits. Mrs. Sowerby doesn't buy them new ones when they're old and torn, but she sews patches on them to cover up the holes."

"Don't choose those delicate and expensive lace hankies," Colin said, "I don't think they'll notice any difference. They'd like ones of cloth that are durable and strong."

They found rather small rag doll with a simple yellow dress and hair made of yarn.

"Oh, let's get this for Dickon's little sister!" cried Mary. "She's eight and I know she'll love it."

"Then what about the others? And the baby Greg?"

"I really don't know, Colin. What do you buy for little babies?"

"Well, I don't think we need to get them anything. They don't need toys, remember? They ramble about the moor and play with sticks and stones."

Mary nodded. They counted their money and finished paying just as Cook came back to fetch them.

As they walked back to the carriage, Colin couldn't help but notice Ellen wasn't there anymore...

In the carriage he wondered if his tactic had worked. To make Mary envious about how nice he was to Ellen. Sure, Mary was huffy about Ellen, as the two hadn't started on very well. Was she jealous already? Or was she was only huffy because she didn't like Ellen and not because she was jealous?

All this thinking confused him. But it was predicted, for hadn't he read somewhere in those literature novels that love is complicated?