‘And did you see the embroidery in her hope box?’ said Una. ‘With needlework like that she needs hope.’

They both laughed.

‘Sister, that’s funny,’ said Vanda.

‘I can only think she’s bewitched our father,’ said Una.

They leaned together, these two inseparable sisters.

‘What if she never speaks again?’ said Una.

‘Leave her. It’s no use. And why should it concern us?’ said Vanda.

‘It does,’ said Una. ‘What if she has a son?’

‘Her hips are too narrow,’ said Vanda. ‘And anyway, she might well collapse altogether under the weight of our father.’ The sisters laughed. ‘He’ll make mincemeat of you, my girl.’

And the morning dragged on, longer than many mornings before. Edith spent the time wondering how she could escape the marriage. Her father, like most of their neighbours, found himself indebted to the butcher. Before she was born, her grandfather had had a thriving business and a wastrel of a son. In less time than it took to raise a child they had become the most impoverished family in the village, not even owning a horse or a sleigh.

She would need a sleigh to escape and whoever she borrowed it from would be in trouble with the butcher. She couldn’t do that. It would have to be on her own without any help.

By midday, the sisters agreed there was not much to be done without the fish.

‘We will be here tomorrow,’ said Una. ‘Early to start cooking for the betrothal supper. And I want to see this house tidy.’

‘Tomorrow,’ they said together, picking up their baskets.

It was late afternoon when Lena came again into the yard to ask, ‘Has Misha come back? I don’t know what I’d do if…’ She stopped. ‘Oh, Edith—’ She took her friend’s hand and kissed it. ‘This is how you feel – I’m so sorry.’

No one knows how I feel, thought Edith. Everyone’s loss is different. Misha will be back. She took Lena inside, made tea and they waited.

‘I’ll have to go soon,’ said Lena, her eyes filled with tears. ‘The miller’s son expects his tea to be on the table on time.’

The women looked up as they heard the latch on the gate and footsteps on the verandah.

‘Your father?’ said Lena.

Edith shook her head. She knew too well the sound of her father’s swaying steps. She went to the door where Misha was smiling, holding a fish wrapped in a cloth. Before he could say what had delayed him, Lena ran to him. Misha was surprised that she should have been concerned.

‘I stayed at a farm. I thought it best to travel in daylight.’ He stopped, seeing the tears in Lena’s eyes. ‘Were you worried about me?’ he asked.

‘I’m pregnant,’ said Lena.

‘You are?’

She nodded.

‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘It’s what you wanted.’