‘Well, that’s rich, coming from someone who has so little love for their own son. Don’t tell me how to bring up my daughter.’

Edith opened the door and went out onto the verandah.

‘You still haven’t swept the snow from the steps,’ said Una and, without so much as a good morning, bristled uninvited into the house and put her basket on the kitchen table. ‘Is the parlour aired?’ Receiving no reply, she snapped, ‘I’m not going through another day of your childish silence. You’d better find your tongue or how can the rings be exchanged?’

‘Enough,’ said Vanda. ‘Enough.’

‘What?’ said Una.

‘You heard me.’

‘What’s got into you?’ She sniffed. ‘I see that Misha’s back. I told you there was no need to worry. And still you bite off my head over nothing.’

Vanda patted down her skirt. ‘Let’s just get on with this.’

‘There’s certainly plenty to do. And this mute, stubborn girl to deal with. Is the dough rising? No. Is the table laid? No.’

‘Quiet,’ said Vanda. ‘Leave it be. I’ve brought the bread. And cakes and biscuits.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before we set off? Anyway, that isn’t the point. The betrothal supper is a test to see how Edith is going to run our father’s house. I would have thought…’

‘Would you want to run our father’s house and live under his roof again?’ asked Vanda. Una didn’t reply. ‘As Edith has no voice I will say it for her: neither you nor I want to go near that pigsty.’

An awkward silence fell between the two sisters. Una went into the parlour and came back with the log basket.

‘Here,’ she said to Edith. ‘Logs. Go and fill it now, girl.’

Edith didn’t move. She didn’t care if this meal was never cooked. If nothing was done she would consider it to be too much.

‘Logs,’ repeated Una.

To Edith’s surprise Vanda said, ‘Leave her.’

‘Are you quite well, sister?’ said Una. ‘What’s come over you? Why are you angry with me? Surely it’s…’

‘I’m angry at what we put up with,’ said Vanda.

‘What do you mean?’

‘This. This betrothal.’

‘I agree. Our father shouldn’t be marrying again, especially not to…’

‘That’s not what I mean, and you know it,’ said Vanda. ‘What choice does Edith have? None. The elders, our father, the priest, all want this match. That shit, the cabinet maker, wants this wedding because our father will pay all his debts. Our father wants it because… because…’

‘Sister,’ said Una, ‘this is terrible talk.’

‘Is it? And what about Sorina?’

‘What about her?’ said Una.

‘You turned your back, looked away, did nothing to protect her. She’s just a child, Una, a child.’

‘What are you talking about?’