Page 7 of A Snowfall of Silver
Lou looks like she might be about to say something else then, but she’s interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone from the hallway.
“You’d better get that,” she says. “It’s for you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“So you got there safe and sound.” Midge’s placid voice comes down the line. She doesn’t seem to be displaying any of the anxiety that Lou was worried about.
Unfortunately, she’s not the only person intent on taking part in the conversation.
“And what a miracle that is!” a shrill voice chimes in, in the background. “Running away without a word and leaving your poor mother to worry herself half to death! It’s the outside of enough, and I’ve told your parents they should wash their hands of you…”
“What is Aunt Irene doing there?” I hiss.
“Your aunt has been quite … concerned about you,” Midge says, and for the first time in our conversation her tone sounds a little strained. I know that my aunt’s “concern” is really an excuse to wade in and make her displeasure known.
“Oh, no, she was there when you found my note?” I ask. “I am sorry about that, Midge. What a thing to do to you.”
“It’s all right, heart,” Midge replies softly. “I was worried you’d go hungry, that was all.” I almost laugh then, because it’s so typical of my unflappable mother to be worried about me missing dinner, and I feel my heart ache a little.
“Oh, Midge,” I say suddenly, gripping the phone tightly in my hands. “I am sorry. It was an awful thing to do. It just seemed like the absolute only way to get a bit of living done.”
“Well, you selfish little so-and-so, why, if you were my daughter I’d—” Aunt Irene’s piercing voice is back again.
“Reeny, that’s enough!” Midge cuts her off, her voice sharpening. “Freya is with her sister now and there’s no harm done, so we’ll let the matter drop.”
I can hear Aunt Irene continue to grumble in the background. I think I catch the words “eyes” and “ravens” and can only assume that her anger is taking a biblical turn.
“Thank you, Midge,” I say, subdued.
“Now, you’d better put me on to your sister so that we can discuss arrangements.”
“But I can stay, can’t I?” I ask quickly.
“I think that will depend on your sister,” Midge points out. There is the faintest hint of a laugh in her voice. “She’s the one who’s going to have to feed you.”
Lou comes through to the hall to talk to Midge and I return to the sitting room, where Robert asks me hundreds of questions about home. Robert absolutely loves hearing about our family. I’ve never met anybody so interested in how Gerald – the family motor – is running, or how Tom’s latest schemes to build his own sail-boat are panning out (not terribly well, actually; there have been some significant buoyancy issues, which is not ideal in a boat), or what rude words the triplets delight in shouting at the vicar. Robert listens to these mundane bits of information like they’re fairy stories, his eyes gleaming with laughter.
“I can’t believe you actually want to know all of this,” I say.
He shrugs. “It’s nice having a big family like yours. I wish I did… It’s just me and Caitlin now.”
“And she’s still in Paris?” Caitlin is just as gorgeous as Robert, and she’s married to a jazz musician who’s getting to be quite well-known. It’s all painfully glamorous.
“Yes, though she and Lucky are talking about moving to America. It’s difficult there after the crash, people are really struggling, but we have friends over there who think his band could do very well.” He suddenly looks unexpectedly forlorn. “I’m not sure what they’ll do.”
It’s strange to think of Robert being lonely. He always seems so self-contained and untouched by things.
“Well, you’re a part of our big family now,” I say lightly, and the expression on his face is hard to read.
That’s when Lou walks back into the room.
“So?” I say quickly. “Can I stay?”
“Of course you can stay.”
I throw myself at her, hugging her and jumping up and down at the same time. Lou makes noises of protest.
“You do know that if you’d just asked like a normal person you could have come any time you liked,” she grumbles.
