The Midnight Dress by Karen Foxlee

Author:Karen Foxlee [Foxlee, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-449-81821-3
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2013-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

That afternoon Pearl begs Rose to walk down Main Street but she says no. She knows exactly how it will go. Pearl will examine herself in a shop window. She’ll say, “How do I look?” She’ll undo the top button of her uniform. She’ll let out her hair. She’ll take Ashes in the Wind from her schoolbag, or A Virgin in Paris, or Neptune’s Daughter; she’ll slip past Mrs. Rendell at her counter and dip her head to pass beneath the crappy Blue Moon Book Exchange sign.

And even inside it will be exactly the same. Paul Rendell’s pupils will dilate, he’ll sniff the air, he’ll smile. He’ll ask perfectly ordinary questions, Pearl will make perfectly ordinary replies. He’ll put his hands behind his head, watch her, no one will dare make a move.

He’ll think, I can’t. She’ll think, He won’t. He’ll think, I want to. She’ll think, I shouldn’t. He’ll think, I won’t, I definitely won’t, I never will. She’ll smile, drop the coins into his hand, say, “Well, I better be going, then.”

Rose goes back to Edie’s house. It’s a Monday, not a Wednesday, but somehow, as if she knows, Edie is waiting for her.

“Come to practice your stitch, have you?”

The question makes Rose bristle but she doesn’t say anything. Near the doorway she looks at one of the many boxes that fill the long yellow kitchen with its flock of bluebirds on the wall. She sees the red leaves from the rain forest, picks one up and holds it by the stem.

“When I was a child, my mother got me a book about the leaves,” says Edie. “I knew every single one. That is the bleeding heart leaf, of course, always my mother’s favorite. Each time I went, I brought one back. The one you brought me was from the quandong.”

“I like them,” says Rose. Feels stupid. “I wouldn’t put them in a box, but I think they belong where they fall.”

“Do you?” says Edie. “You might be right.”

They sit at the table and Rose threads her needle and begins practicing on her pillowcase. Edie hums beneath her breath. She hasn’t performed her opening of the windows because it’s not yet six o’clock. The house is shadowy closed up like that.

“There was a really big tree, giant, you could fit a whole car through it,” says Rose.

“Oh yes, the big tree, the red cedar; there’s hardly any of those left in this part of the world, they came looking for them specifically, the loggers. That one is a beauty. There are bigger, though.”

Rose looks up from her work.

“Another place. I’ll tell you about it one day.”

Rose pricks her finger, sticks the tip in her mouth to taste the blood.

“Shall I tell you the story of my magpie?” says Edie.

Rose looks at the closed windows and, as if sensing the time, stands with the old woman, who has already begun to tell. They open the casements, the cracked and crazed louvres, throw open the door to the coming night.

“Now, I was twelve the year Granny Baker died.

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