Page 6 of A Snowfall of Silver

She disappears into the hall to make the phone call. The nearest telephone at home is in the village pub so they’ll have to send someone to go and get Midge or Pa, and it will be a while before I have to speak to them. I feel a vague sense of annoyance at Lou’s attitude. First, refusing to be surprised by my daring flight from the family homestead, and then kicking up a fuss over my methods. She can’t have it both ways!

I toss my cap on the table and shake out my long hair, combing my fingers through it to try and untangle some of the knots. I wonder idly if I should cut my hair short like Lou’s. It seems the sort of thing a modern adventuress would do.

“You look so much like Alice.” Lou is back, leaning against the door frame and watching me. There’s a little pang of sadness in her voice. She misses our older sister. Alice and Lou were practically twins growing up. Joined at the hip.

“Only not as beautiful,” I say. “You should see her these days, she glows so much she’s practically on fire. Her and Jack and little Rosy – they’re the perfect family.”

“It hasn’t been that long since I saw her,” Lou says. “Only a month or so…”

“Three,” I mutter. “But who’s counting?” I know my words strike a nerve; I can see the flare of guilt in her eyes. “Sorry.”

Lou shakes her head. “No, no, you’re right. It’s been too long.” She gives me a slightly watery smile. “I’ve missed you all.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky I took matters into my own hands, then?” I say cheerfully, just as the door opens and Robert appears with the tea tray. Thankfully, he’s also brought a plate of biscuits. I am absolutely starving, and the toast has barely touched the sides. I reach for one with eager hands.

“Is that plum cake?” I ask, trying not to spray shortbread crumbs everywhere.

“I forgot you were such a bottomless pit.” Lou cuts a chunk and hands me a plate. “I’m not sure we’ve got the supplies necessary to cope with you.”

I glare at her. “I don’t know how you put up with her,” I say to Robert.

“I have a reputation as a charitable man,” he smirks, and Lou chokes on her tea.

“If you were really a charitable man, you’d marry her,” I shoot back.

This time Robert is ready for me and there’s no telling flush on his cheeks. “Alas,” he says languidly. “She won’t have me.”

This time it’s my turn to be surprised. “You mean you’ve asked her?”

He sighs, flashing Lou a particularly wicked smile before he answers. “Twice.”

“Lou!” I squeal. “Is this true?”

Lou groans, burying her face in her hands for a moment before darting a poisonous glance at Robert, who is thoroughly enjoying himself. “We will get married,” she says. “One day. Just not yet.”

“It’s a very strange way of doing things, if you ask me,” I murmur doubtfully.

“Thank you, Freya.” Robert leans forward to offer me another biscuit. I take two. “I’ve told her I’m not asking again. Next time she has to ask me. There’s only so much a man’s pride can stand.”

“Your pride seems perfectly fine to me,” Lou grumbles. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone so pleased with themselves.”

“Abused like this in my own home…”

“Aha!” I point at him accusingly. “I knew you lived here.”

“My sister’s own home,” he corrects himself smoothly.

“Ignore her,” Lou says firmly. “She’s only trying to stir up trouble to distract from the fact that we should be giving her an earful for worrying Midge and Pa. Really, Freya, I can’t understand this at all.”

“Can’t you?” I leap to my feet. “Ha! That’s rich, coming from you. You ran off to London to follow your dreams!”

“I understand that part. But Midge and Pa were so supportive of me. Why go about it like this?”

“Because I’m an artist, Louise!” I say passionately. “I don’t need my parents making it easy for me.” I regret that I have already leaped to my feet, because I think this might have been a better moment for it. Instead I toss my head defiantly. “My passion and dedication to the craft must overcome every obstacle. Don’t you understand what a catastrophe it would have been to encounter no obstacles at all? I have to struggle.”

Lou shakes her head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“You don’t understand me at all.” I fold my arms. “None of you ever have.” I mean for the words to sound hard and angry, but instead they come out with a little quiver.