‘Why does it matter what anyone thinks? You’re happy yet you subject your happiness to old wives’ tales. Wednesdays and Fridays are days when no one must use needles or scissors, or bake bread. Tuesdays are unlucky for spinning, and at sunset evil spirits abound. Thursdays and Saturdays are lucky days so you may wash and spin. But be careful, the devil is always waiting at the bottom of the garden. Tell me, what will happen if we have your betrothal supper tonight? Will the house fall down?’

‘Of course not,’ said Lena. ‘But the hens might not lay for a year.’

Edith laughed. ‘Have you thought that it was these ancient beliefs that gave the power to the butcher to keep you prisoner? And by believing in them, we give power to the elders and make monsters of men?’

‘Are you cross with me?’

‘No, Lena, I’m cross that you can’t see what you have and how lucky you are. Instead you act as if you’ve done something wrong.’

There was a knock on the door and Edith went to open it.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Georgeta, coming inside. ‘It’s none of my business but I feel that there should be…’

‘…A party to celebrate Lena and Misha’s engagement,’ said Edith. She led Georgeta into the parlour. ‘Yes, that’s my suggestion. And maybe,’ she muttered, ‘Lena’s mother would come round to the idea of the marriage.’

‘You don’t think it’s a little hasty?’ said Lena.

‘Not at all,’ said Georgeta. ‘I think a celebration is much needed. I’ll bring food and my maids to help.’

‘Both of them – and the cook?’ said Edith. ‘Will the mayor manage without someone at his beck and call?’

‘I doubt it,’ said Georgeta and laughed.

Lena was so surprised by this sudden turn of events that she couldn’t think what to say except a quiet ‘Thank you.’

Misha returned to find women cooking and the kitchen filled with laughter.

‘We are having a betrothal supper,’ said Lena.

‘This is for us?’ said Misha.

It occurred to Edith that this was the first time in his life that Misha had ever been at the centre of a celebration.

‘Is it true that a circus is camped just outside the village?’ Georgeta asked him.

‘A circus?’ said Edith.

‘That’s right,’ said Misha. ‘It turned up after the burial. The priest heard it coming and thought it was the devil. The blacksmith and I brought the proprietor and his trapeze artist into the village. She’s injured her wrist.’