The House at Tyneford Read Online Free PDF Page B

symbol of hope and of better things to come.”
    He did not glance at the Haggadah, and as he continued I realised that the words were his. “A man who has experienced great sorrow, and then has known its end, wakes each morning feeling the pleasure of sunrise.”
    He took a sip of water and dabbed his mouth. “Margot. The next.”
    She stared at him and then glanced down to her book. “Why is it that on all other nights we don’t dip our herbs at all, but on this night we dip them twice?”
    Julian dipped a sprig of parsley in the pot of sweet charoset and leaned across the table to hand it to me. I popped it into my mouth and swallowed the sticky mixture of apples, cinnamon and wine. He bathed a second piece of parsley in the salt water and gave it to me, watching as I ate. My mouth stung with salt, and I tasted tears and long journeys across the sea.

Chapter Four
    Enough Clouds for a Spectacular Sunset
    A fter dinner Margot and I stole onto the balcony. The rich beef stew had been one of Hildegard’s best; I wanted to cram myself with the taste of home while I still could. Margot tossed a few cushions onto the floor, and we sat side by side, looking at the shaking leaves on the tops of the poplar trees.
    “You will write, Bean,” she said.
    “Well, I shall try. But I expect to be rather busy with bridge parties, lawn picnics and such.”
    To my surprise, Margot clutched my hand. “You must write, Elise. No joking.”
    “Fine. But my handwriting’s terrible and I don’t plan on improving it.”
    “That’s all right. It will give Robert something else to complain about. And you know how happy that makes him.”
    My litany of faults had provided Robert with another source of interest, and consequently I felt he ought to show a little more gratitude toward me. The balcony doors creaked and Anna stepped out. Margot and I shuffled along to make room for her on our bed of cushions. I kicked off my shoes, which were starting to pinch, and wiggled my toes in the cool night air. Anna had painted my toenails scarlet, and I thought they looked very fetching—it seemed a shame to wear shoes at all.
    “You are to take the pearls with you, Elise. Hildegard will sew them into the hem of your dress tonight.”
    “No, Mama, they’re yours. I have the gold chains if I need money.”
    I reached for Anna’s hand, wishing that she would be quiet. Lights glinted in the apartments across the street, and where the curtains were not drawn we watched a marionette show of silhouettes perform rituals of daily life: maids drew baths or cleared away supper trays, an elderly lady took three tries to climb into her raised bed, a dog sat in a chair by an open window and a man all alone and naked except for his hat paced to and fro, hands clasped behind his back. This vantage point had been my and Margot’s favourite for many years, and we had glimpsed countless dramas play out across the street. When we were children we would squabble and scratch at one another’s faces, but dusk produced an inevitable truce, and we would creep out onto the balcony and sit beside one another in companionable silence and watch the show. It seemed almost inconceivable that it could continue without me. I looked down at my beautiful red-painted toes for comfort.
    “The pearls are yours,” said Anna. “I gave the sapphires to Margot as a wedding gift and it is right that you should have the pearls.”
    “Stop it,” I snapped. “Give them to me in New York.”
    Anna fiddled with the hem of her gown and said nothing.
    “Why do you want me to have them now?” I asked. “You’re not going to forget to send for me, are you? How can you forget me? You promised, Anna. You promised.”
    “Darling! Calm, please.” She laughed at my outburst. “Of course I won’t forget you. Of all the silliest things.”
    “Elise, you’re not easily forgotten,” said Margot. “You’re her daughter, not a pair of gloves.”
    I folded my arms across my chest,