The Sister's Tale by Beth Powning

Author:Beth Powning [Powning, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Canada
Published: 2021-05-25T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

Green Rabbits

FLORA SHUFFLED SPRING DIRT from her boots on a pattern of green rabbits. She waited on the mat, just inside the door. The Hilltop house smelled of beeswax, oranges and roast beef. A piano went abruptly silent.

A tall, frail woman drifted down the stairs. Another, older and full-bodied, came along the hallway. Both carried the air of having left more absorbing tasks, yet their faces opened on seeing Flora and she realized that her hair, loosened and wisped around her exertion-flushed face, would be holding the sunlight; and saw an expression of delight and wonder creep over the women’s faces.

“My name is Flora Salford. I work for Mrs. Galloway. She has a boarder who makes little houses. He asked…”

Her voice trailed off. She gestured behind her towards a miniature house in a child’s wagon, parked on the stone path.

“Oh, my, Rosamund,” the thin sister exclaimed, looking past Flora. “Isn’t that something!”

They followed her down the steps to the walkway. The morning was warm, an earthy scent rising from soil soaked by night rain. The thin sister gripped her hands and pressed them to her breastbone. Flora knelt.

“See how he carves the shingles.” She pointed at the pieces of cedar, shaped like fish scales or arrowheads.

The sisters walked around the house, tapping at the glass windows, stroking the frail railings. Flora summoned a tone of proprietary pride.

“These are spindled porch railings. And see how the trim is painted a different colour.”

Flora tipped back the hinged roof.

“Oh, how clever!”

One by one, she extracted a four-poster bed covered with a quilt, a cast-iron stove and a tiny Persian rug. She set them in a row on the path. “He could provide doll’s house people, if you want.”

She paused.

“I could tell you the price.”

Rosamund, the heavier and evidently elder sister, made a hasty, dismissive motion with the tips of her fingers.

“What do you think, Grace?”

Grace stood wide-eyed. “Oh, my, Rosamund. Oh, yes. Yes, we must have one.”

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