“Not these girls. They’re family now.”
“Yes, one big happy family. The girls? Pah! You didn’t have enough of your own, you had to add half a dozen orphans? Lie down like a carpet and the whole world will walk over you.” Ferida bends down, hissing like an old boiler. “Go on, go to bed. Take my lamp – I’m half blind anyway. Grundug can show me the way. Go.” She starts transferring laundry to the tabletop, tut-tutting the whole time. She bends down for more, kicks a coal into the grate and notices the onion.
“There’s only one feather!” she cries, casting around to see if the other one has fallen. “When I left it there were two. Someone has taken the feather out. That’s my job. I count the feathers till Easter! This is going to confuse all my calculations.” She whips around irritably but apa
