To keep his mind off Charlotte during their bumpy ride, Sidney had forced himself to keep his eyes open, even if he had to shield them with his hand to block out the brightness. And the landscape that swept past them, reminding his stomach of a ship in a heavy storm. The throbbing behind his eyeballs had subsided to a tolerable level by now, but the throbbing in his heart when he thought of Miss Heywood had not.
Under normal circumstances Sidney would have preferred to suffer alone in this condition, but in Mr Heywood he had found an equal ally. He too was a tough fellow, suffered silently and the most pleasant thing was that he did not lack self-mockery. With an amused look, he commented not only on his own condition, but also on Sidney's. Especially with what devotion they had drunk Heywood's own cherry wine before Mr Heywood had had the great idea of tasting all the wines, liqueurs and home-distilled alcohol of the whole neighbourhood. Not infrequently they had to laugh at themselves, even if it always ended in a pain-distorted groan.
After they had a second breakfast at a rest stop and changed to another stagecoach, which they finally had all to themselves, Mr Heywood began to go over the details they wanted to discuss with the liquor manufacturer. Everything was discussed so far and they both sank into an amicable silence. After they had travelled another mile, Mr Heywood spoke up once more.
"Now, Sidney, please be absolutely honest..." he waited until Sidney looked at him, "what do you think of Charlotte?"
Gone was the lightness. Panic washed over Sidney, much worse than that of the morning, because by now he was sober again. Still, it turned his stomach slightly, at the same time his heart rattled against his ribs. He felt hot and cold. Had Mr Heywood seen through him? All the words he wanted to form burst open and rose into the sky like shadowy grey smoke.
"Her ideas aren't so far-fetched, right?"
At these words Mr Heywood had given him a curious look, which Sidney did not notice. The latter would have preferred to groan loudly with relief. Her father was not interested in his personal opinion of her, but in his opinion about Charlotte's notes, which Mr Heywood had shown him the previous evening. Sidney could just about suppress the urge to wipe the sweat from his brow, but not the laughter. He tried to cover it with a cough.
"Absolutely."
Mr Heywood was clearly proud that Sidney, a man of the world who was in the import and export business and had a good nose in deals involving luxury items, thought his daughter's idea good enough to discuss it again in a sober state. Sidney was not just trying to be polite. He simply recognised that Charlotte's idea had potential.
"As I discovered yesterday," Sidney began with a grin, "some of the drinks are very tasty. Your daughter is right, if all the farmers can make their own oils, wines and liqueurs in small numbers, you could also make large ones if you combine your resources."
Mr Heywood recounted the thoughts Charlotte had written down in her notes and refined over the years.
Sidney's pride, which he felt for her, spread through his chest and drowned out the irritating wild beating of his heart. He could handle admiration for her actions. It also distracted him from that inner voice that wanted to make him believe he was on the best way to fall in love with her. That was so absurd that he was better off concentrating on her determination to make a difference.
It was not a spontaneous idea, but something this young lady had been thinking about for some time. How could something that everyone was already doing for themselves and on a small scale be made bigger and more profitable for the benefit of all? And more safe too. Under one point, Miss Heywood had written down all the accidents that had happened so far.
"We'd have to talk to everyone first, I don't think they'd all go for it right away." Replied Mr Heywood. "A lot of people always hold on to old things instead of moving with the times."
on the bumpy road
Start from the beginning
