Embertide by Liz Williams

Embertide by Liz Williams

Author:Liz Williams [Williams, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: NewCon Press
Published: 2022-06-20T22:00:00+00:00


Stella

Stella woke late and spent the morning tidying up. This was an issue with life on a boat, she had realised: she now had a more comprehensive idea of what ‘shipshape’ meant. She gave an accusatory Rumpole what was without doubt his second breakfast and went on deck in time to see a bright red van pulling up at the end of the wharf. “Postman’s here,” said Evie, and went to meet him. Stella watched as he handed over a brown package and some letters.

“It’s for you, Stella!”

“Ooh!”

“Did you order something from Amazon?”

“No.” Stella was inspecting the packaging. “It’s from Bee. She said she was sending something but that was ages ago – look at this postmark.”

“Bloody hopeless,” Evie agreed. “It’s probably been sitting in a sorting office somewhere.”

Stella found some scissors and cut the package carefully open. Inside, was another parcel and a note.

Hi Stella, we found this when we were clearing out – it’s got your name on it and we thought you’d better have it. Lots of love Bee. xxx

Evie guffawed. “Maybe it’ll be like one of those Russian dolls.”

“Yes, more and more wrappings and inside will be like an acorn or something.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Haven’t a clue.” Stella slit the second package open.

It was filled with fawn fur. It stirred in the light wind from the river.

“It looks like one of those stole things that go round your neck.” Stella grimaced. “I hate those. Creepy. Not because it’s a dead animal, but because someone killed a beautiful creature, just for show.”

“I know what you mean. With the snout and feet dangling… It looks too big for a stole. I suppose furs do pack flat.”

Stella pulled the fur free, and it turned out to be both footless and snoutless. It was wider than a stole.

“More like a wrap,” said Evie. “I have to say, it’s lovely fur.”

“I don’t think it’s mink,” Stella said, after a pause.

“No. The texture’s wrong.”

Stella, along with her sisters, had suffered a bad experience with mink, back in the autumn. But this fur was shorter and did not have the glossy, expensive sheen of farmed mink. Its backing was either skin or some fabric akin to suede. Stella held the garment up: it was perhaps the length of her arm.

“I think I ought to get rid of it but I don’t want to just chuck it, somehow.”

“You could wear it to your Windsor gig. Keep out the chill. When’s that again?”

“Saturday. But the fur, maybe not. It might look a bit weird standing behind a mixing desk wrapped in a fur stole like someone’s grandma, even if they are aristos.”

“Find someone with a brazier along the shore, maybe.”

“Well, that might be a bit weird as well – hi, you don’t know me, but I’ve got this dead animal skin I’d like to get rid of.”

“I suppose we could just let the river take it – after all, everyone else does.”

“True. But it’s a bit too much like littering and after we spent all that time cleaning up the foreshore…”

“I know!” Evie said.



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