A Storm of Paper Starlings by Inka York

Author:Inka York [York, Inka]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781915708007
Publisher: Inklore Books

26

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I didn’t have many stories to cling to when I was growing up. The one about how I got my surname isn’t much of a story. I don’t even know if it’s true, but it’s all the story I’ve got. Two nurses found newborn me at the hospital. One was called Natalie; one was called Sharon. My surname became Nash to honour them. I said it wasn’t much of a story. It never is when half the truth is missing.

A year ago, I couldn’t imagine wanting anything as much as I wanted to be a real Penhaligon, and because I was changing my surname, Eden suggested I choose a middle name because all the boys have one. I came across Adam’s grandmother in the family records and chose her name.

Now, I’m officially Violet Iris Penhaligon.

VIP.

Daniel calls during my welcome to the family meal to say his car broke down and he’s going to be late, like he’s not half an hour late already. He’s still not here when the boys start chanting, “One of us, one of us,” while banging their cutlery on the table. And he’s still not here when we settle in the drawing room after pudding.

“I have some news.” Eden’s gaze drifts away, and she gives herself a shake. “Violet is only the first new addition to the family. As you know, I went to the doctor’s yesterday, and it seems… I’m pregnant.”

Startled silence follows this statement.

“But you’re—” Ben bites his lip into behaving itself.

“Old? Yes, I am. I didn’t believe it myself at first, but we have been blessed again.” She says blessed with an exasperated sigh, like she thinks pregnancy is unavoidable.

My face heats up because they are a bit old, and I don’t want to think about it.

Archer slaps Magnus on the arm. “Good work, Dad.”

I laugh, and it’s frenzied. Magnus laughs too, and Eden rolls her eyes.

“You too, Mum,” Archer adds.

“Can we go back upstairs now you’ve totally grossed us out?” Ezra asks.

When the twins scamper off, Magnus opens a couple of windows. The ancient heating system keeps turning itself on, so the house gets randomly hot, especially at night. I haven’t slept much the past couple of nights, and Magnus refuses to call an engineer until he’s assessed the situation, whatever the hell that means. He and Seth must’ve gone over every inch of pipe by now.

Hopefully, tonight will be better. Archer dug out an extremely vintage floor fan from a cupboard earlier, which we cleaned up together. Beneath all the dust and stickiness, it was a soft, retro orange. It looks like a dilapidated sunflower, craning its rickety neck while it wheezes and seizes. Maybe the fan will keep me awake instead of the heat.

“Time for a celebratory sherry?” Magnus suggests, eyebrows raised as he claps his thighs and rubs his hands together.

“It’s a shame,” says Eden, patting her tummy, “but I can’t.” She doesn’t look sorry.

“Violet?” Magnus swirls the contents of a decanter while grinning disturbingly. “Made it myself.”

That explains the horrified look on Archer’s face.

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