‘Not straight away. The two young men were lost for a while. The butcher found them. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he convinced them they’d been attacked by you. The mayor’s son has been unwell ever since.’

‘Misha told me that once Demetrius’ brother had collected the body, the butcher announced it was the end of the matter.’

‘It isn’t,’ said Flora. ‘My brother had a letter from Demetrius’ father, thanking him for preserving his son’s body so well. He wrote that there will be an investigation. He sent money, too, payment for my brother. And this for you.’

Edith opened the envelope. It contained money and a photograph taken of Demetrius when he graduated from university.

‘He was very handsome,’ said Flora.

Edith closed her eyes to stop the tears. Still they escaped. When his father finds out the truth, she thought, what will be left of the family? How will his father ever recover, knowing what his youngest son has done?

She walked with Flora to the gate and after her friend left, she gazed at the sky. In the song of the birds she heard Demetrius’ melodies, in the wind she felt the touch of his hand, in the warmth of the sun, his embrace.

No one else came to the cabinet maker’s house, not Vanda, Georgeta or Lena. Edith knew she was viewed with suspicion and her movements were reported to the butcher. Everywhere she went she was stared at and neighbours whispered behind her back. She realised she had become a stranger among them.

Edith took some of the money from the envelope to buy much-needed supplies but both the grocer and the baker refused to serve her.

‘If my father has run up debt,’ she said, ‘I will settle the bill.’

It angered her to discover that her father owed them nothing; that the shop keepers would rather have seen him starve to death than disobey the butcher. It was a tragedy that one man could have enslaved the small community with his cruelty.

The cabinet maker was mending the henhouse, singing to himself. Edith was clearing out the cupboard under the stairs when her father abruptly stopped singing. She became aware of someone standing behind her.

‘I like nothing better than a woman on her knees,’ he said.

Edith pushed the hair out of her eyes and stood up to face the butcher.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

His Mother’s Shawl

‘No one makes a fool of me,’ said the butcher. ‘Do you think you can just walk back into this village dressed like a vagabond? Where did you go? You couldn’t survive on the mountain in the winter we’ve just had. So tell me – unless you’ve lost your tongue again – where did you go? Do you know what I think? I think you ran away to join the gypsies…’ he moved close to her and hissed ‘…like the whore you are.’