The Silk Merchant's Daughter Read Online Free PDF

father?’
    Lisa straightened up and rubbed her back. ‘Course not. It’s this bloody monster!’
    ‘Language,’ Nicole said as she opened the back door to let out the smoke.
    ‘Why you up so early, little flower?’
    ‘Couldn’t sleep.’
    Lisa carried on stoking and finally the heat began to build. She stood with her hands on her hips, still in an attitude of exasperation. ‘Now that’s done, I’ll put on the coffee. So, any news?’
    Nicole shrugged. Every time she thought about the unfairness of her father’s decision, it brought her close to tears. ‘I’ve been given the old silk shop, that’s all.’
    Lisa clucked and muttered, then, with wide sweeping movements, wiped the table as she spoke. ‘Well, I suppose we all have to start somewhere. Now sit.’
    Nicole pulled up a chair. ‘Except for Sylvie. She’s been handed the whole lot on a plate, and she doesn’t even know as much about silk as I do. Why is he so unfair?’
    Lisa puffed out her cheeks and tucked the wisps of straggling hair behind her ears. ‘Some things are … I don’t know, but after your mother died –’
    Nicole interrupted. ‘He blames me, doesn’t he?’
    ‘Not any more.’
    ‘But he did?’
    Lisa hesitated, as if there was something she wasn’t ready to divulge. ‘Darling girl, it was all so long ago. Why not look to the future? Prove to him you can do well.’
    ‘I went to see the old shop.’
    Lisa drew a sharp breath.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Well, there has been talk of a bomb going off in the old quarter. I just hope it’s safe there.’
    ‘Are the Vietminh close to Hanoi?’
    ‘Probably not. You know what gossip is like.’
    There was a brief lull.
    ‘Shall I do your shoulders?’
    Nicole nodded and Lisa came round to stand behind her, beginning to massage the knots away. ‘Up to you to put the life back into the shop then.’
    ‘I suppose. I did quite like it there.’
    Lisa stopped rubbing and Nicole twisted round to look up at her. Something flickered across the cook’s face and Nicole noticed her eyes were moist.
    ‘I’ve always loved you, little one.’ Lisa hesitated again. ‘I know it’s been difficult.’
    Nicole felt a lump forming in her throat.
    Lisa sighed. ‘I think your father has his own guilt to bear and maybe sometimes he takes it out on you.’
    ‘Why would
he
feel guilty?’
    Lisa shook her head. ‘Nicole, don’t be too hard on your sister. She suffered too. Don’t let that cool exterior fool you … And I’ve done my best to make up for what happened.’
    ‘What happened in Huế wasn’t your fault.’
    ‘You have to make the best of it, my love. Come on, come here.’ She held her arms out wide and Nicole got up and went to her.
    With Lisa’s arms embracing her, Nicole couldn’t halt the flood of tears. Lisa patted her back and, when Nicole drew apart to wipe her cheeks, the cook smiled. ‘There, that’s better. A good cry never did anyone any harm. It’s not as bad as you think.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘You know this might still turn out for the best.’
    Sylvie’s bedroom was painted the palest shade of yellow, with white rugs and pale brocade drapes at the window. That evening Nicole tapped at the door, went in and sat down on her sister’s satin bedspread.
    Nicole sniffed as a light breeze from the garden blew in the mingled scent of smoke and mown grass. The room was still sunny and only the sound of a branch brushing the outside wall interrupted the silence. Sylvie had already changed into white silk pyjamas and smoothed down the curtain of wavy auburn hair she’d been growing for years, proud that it now reached her waist, without a split end in sight. As she began writing in her journal over by the dressing table at the window, Nicole gazed at the neat row of books on the bookshelf, the glass ornaments on the shelf above Sylvie’s bed and the yellow and white roses on her dressing table, then she unwrapped a toffee and sucked on it. Her sister’s room was sacrosanct,