Page 17 of A Winter By the Sea
There were ominous signs for the future happiness of this royal family.
—Deirdre Murphy,The Young Victoria
Throughout the day, Emily had been keenly aware of her twin’s absence. They had never been apart on Christmas before. With her father-in-law and brother-in-law in town for the holidays, Viola had hosted Christmas dinner for them at neighboring Westmount.
But the next day was Boxing Day, and Emily spent part of it with her sister. That afternoon she walked beside Viola as she pushed the wheeled chair along the esplanade, taking Mrs. Denby back to the poor house after she’d eaten luncheon with them.
Thankfully, enough horses, carriages, and foot traffic had passed this way before them that the snow was fairly packed down. Even so, the chair wheels got stuck in a rut. Emily pulled the front handle while Viola pushed from the rear, and soon they were on their way again.
Major Hutton had offered to push the chair for them, butEmily had insisted she would help Viola. In truth, she had simply wanted to spend time with her twin.
Emily liked Mrs. Denby too, although she was more Viola’s friend than hers. Emily did not know the older woman well, not being involved with the poor house as Viola was.
The sunlight faded as they went—the days darkened early now that it was late December. When they reached narrow Silver Street, a cold north wind rushed out at them in an icy blast, snaking under their skirts and threatening to yank the bonnets from their heads.
With a shiver, Emily held on to her bonnet and glanced up the narrow lane.
From its mouth, a dark figure emerged, walking slowly toward them—a woman shrouded in a black hooded cloak, her hands clasped low across her abdomen.
Noticing the oncomer as well, Viola stopped pushing to allow her to pass.
As the woman neared, Emily glimpsed her face. She was an old woman with a hooked nose, her gaze unfocused. She walked by as though she did not see them, as though in a trance.
Emily shivered anew.
When she’d passed by, Emily whispered, “Who was that?”
“I don’t know,” Viola replied. “Did you recognize her, Mrs. Denby?”
“I did.” Mrs. Denby pushed up her spectacles. “That is someone you girls would be wise to avoid.”
“Why?”
“I have not seen her in years, but she called herself a fortune-teller back then. I imagine she still does.”
“Do you know,” Emily began, “I overheard two ladies talking recently. One of them said she hired a fortune-teller to entertain guests at a party. I wonder if that was her.”
“Couldn’t say.” Mrs. Denby shook her head. “Just you stay clear of her. You know the Scriptures warn us to have nothing to do with divination or soothsayers. Promise me you’ll remember that.”
“We will,” they promised in unison, and Emily felt colder than she had only moments before.
———
Because it was Boxing Day, they had given Mrs. Besley, Jessie, Lowen, Mr. Gwilt, and Bibi Cordey—a fisherman’s daughter who worked for them a few hours each morning—small gifts as well as the day off. Thankfully, the observance fell on a day they were not obligated to serve dinner to their guests. Even so, Sarah had decided to provide bread, cold meat, cheeses, mince pies, and gingerbread. Emily helped her lay it all out on the sideboard.
That evening, the family gathered in the parlour near the fire, quiet and sleepy after eating their fill of the generous spread, followed by tea and another round of sweets.
Bibi appeared in the doorway, still wearing her cloak. “I’ve a present for ’ee.” Face bright, she thrust forth a strange-looking pie.
The pie contained whole pilchards, with fish heads protruding from the crust as though coming up for air.
Emily regarded it dubiously. “What do you call it?”
“Stargazy pie.” Bibi gestured toward the blind fish eyes. “See ’em gazin’ up at the stars?”
“Ah. Yes, I do.”
“Well, have some.” She set it on the sideboard. “Go on. It’s my first time making ’em.” Bibi’s cheeks rounded with a proud, suppressed smile, anticipating their delight.
