Gasping for breath, she pushed past the mayor and set off in the snow. Finding herself too weak to reach her home, she went reluctantly to the cabinet maker’s house and opened the door. The cabinet maker was pulling on his boots and stood up so abruptly at the sight of Vanda that his chair fell over.

‘How could you, you stinking drunk, agree to this marriage?’ she said.

The cabinet maker, seeing the blood on her face and thinking her injured, did the only sensible thing: he retrieved his hat and scurried away.

‘You rat,’ she shouted after him.

Edith came out of her room, took one look at Vanda and fetched a bowl of water and a cloth.

‘I’m not hurt. Leave me be, don’t fuss,’ said Vanda, sitting at the table. ‘I just need to get my breath back, that’s all.’

Edith put a firm hand on Vanda’s forehead and wiped the blood from her face. Vanda didn’t resist. Then she silently began to sob.

‘If Misha is lost,’ she said, ‘there’s so much I’ve never told him. I’ve never said I loved him and now it’s too late.’ She hung her head. ‘All these years I’ve been so angry and it wasn’t his fault. It was my father I should have… but I couldn’t…’

Edith sat next to her and poured a glass of wine.

‘I don’t drink,’ said Vanda as she lifted the glass to her mouth. She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose then looked at Edith. ‘My father is a monster,’ she said. ‘There now. I’ve told you. That’s what you’re marrying.’ She laughed to herself. ‘It’s not funny.’ She glared at Edith who wasn’t laughing. ‘A monster. Do you want to know more?’

Edith stayed still, her eyes never leaving Vanda’s face. She had a feeling that any sudden movement would scare away Vanda’s words and once lost she doubted they would ever be heard.