Sorina left her mother talking to the dead man and walked as fast as she dared for she didn’t want to draw attention to herself.

Look as if you are fetching an egg, not as if your mother has shot your grandfather. The sun had come out and melted the snow. It’s going to be a fine day, she thought. I must remember to water the plants.

She looked up to see Edith and Misha coming towards her.

‘Sorina…’ Edith said.

‘How did you know?’

Misha and Lena had spent all night sending messages to each other. In the early dawn Misha had seen the unmistakable figure of Una walking determinedly towards the butcher’s. He’d heard the gunshot and run downstairs to find Edith fully dressed, staring at the walnut tree in the yard.

‘Something’s happened,’ she’d said.

Inside the gloom of the butcher’s house, Edith said, ‘Light the stove and open all the windows.’

Sorina was grateful to be told what to do and disappeared into the parlour. The light from its window suddenly illuminated the dark hall that led to the butcher’s bedroom. Una was still there, still holding the hunting gun.

‘I had to shoot him,’ she said when she saw Misha and Edith.

Edith looked into the room and felt vomit rise in her throat. Oh God, she thought. Either Una or I will hang for this. She took the weapon from Una and laid it on the floor at the side of the bed.

‘You were the only one to stand up to him,’ said Una. ‘I didn’t. Why didn’t I?’

Edith led her to the kitchen and sat her in a chair.

Sorina said, ‘What shall I do now?’

What shall I do now, thought Edith. How do I find a way out of this?

‘Put the kettle on the stove,’ she said, ‘and bring the teapot and some cups.’

Sorina slowly put out the cups, the best china that was reserved for weddings, births and funerals.

‘Now sit down and we’ll have some tea,’ said Edith.

She looked at the girl, a child really. Just a child. And she remembered the sisters arguing, Vanda’s words, the unspoken meaning between them. She thought of what the butcher had done when Vanda was the same age as Sorina, of Vanda’s pregnancy. The story became as clear to Edith as if someone had told it to her.

Sorina felt Edith’s gaze and looked up at her. Edith saw trust in her eyes and nodded. Yes, there was a way.

‘Shall I pour the tea?’ said Sorina.

‘Turn the pot three times,’ said her mother, ‘otherwise it’s unlucky. Three times and the devil won’t stay here.’

‘I’ll get the doctor and the mayor,’ said Misha. ‘Don’t let anyone else in.’

It felt like an age before he returned with the doctor and behind them, the priest.