Chapter Twenty-two
When I returned to the kitchen, Anna looked at me in surprise.
“Surely you’re not finished!” she said.
“I am.”
“And you’ve put all their things away?”
“I have.”
“Well, if that doesn’t call for a cup of tea, I don’t know what does. Get settled by the fire and I’ll be right out. I think we deserve a proper strupag, don’t you?”
—
“So, are the sheets still smelling of paraffin?” Anna asked, sipping daintily from a teacup decorated with primroses and edged with gold leaf.
She’d brought out oatcakes and jam along with the tea, which was the strongest I’d seen yet, all of it served on fine china. She’d even put a doily on the tray.
“I didn’t smell anything,” I said.
“Good. Because the wash is not a job I’m keen on doing myself. There’s some that won’t send it out because they’re afraid it’ll come back with lice.” She harrumphed. “Personally, I’m more afraid of what George will put next to it in that van of his.”
“Why on earth would it come back with lice?”
“Because the same laundry facility also does the wash for the men at the Big House and forestry camps. It’s mostly old folk and Wee Frees who worry about it, but I suspect the real problem is that sending your wash out smacks of being a luxury. I’m just grateful Mhàthair isn’t of that opinion—she’s about as strict as they come, being old and a Wee Free.”
The top log on the fire slid toward us, sending up a cascade of sparks. Anna rose and jammed it back into place with the poker.
“And stay there!” she scolded, watching it for a few seconds before sitting back down.
“That may explain the old woman doing her laundry in the river the other day,” I said. “Although it seemed a very odd place to do it.”
Anna set her tea down. “I beg your pardon?”
“I got lost in the Cover, chased in by a crow of all things. I thought it was following me.”
I was suddenly aware that the atmosphere had changed. I looked up to find that Anna had gone pale. I ran through what I’d said, wondering which part could possibly have caused offense.
“I’m sorry,” I said, panicked. “I don’t really think that.”
Anna continued to stare at me.
I put my tea down, afraid I would spill it. “Please forget I said anything. I have an overly active imagination.”
“Who was doing laundry where?” she asked sharply.
“An old woman was washing a shirt in the river. She didn’t answer when I asked for help. Then, when I tried to get closer, I couldn’t find her. It was like she’d never—Anna, whatever is the matter?”
She’d clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Anna? What’s wrong? Please tell me what I’ve done.”
“The Caonaig,” she said hoarsely. “You’ve seen the Caonaig.”
I shook my head. “What’s the Caonaig? I don’t understand.”
“Someone’s going to die,” she said.
“No, surely not. It was just an old woman—”
“Wearing green?”
I hesitated. “Yes.”
“Did she have a protruding tooth?”
I hesitated even longer. “Yes.”
“Was she crying?”
This time I didn’t answer, but apparently my eyes gave me away.
Anna shrieked and bolted into the kitchen. I called after her, and then ran after her, but she was gone, leaving the door flapping on its hinges. I ran back to the front door, but by the time I stepped into the road, she was receding into the distance on her bicycle.
“What’s going on?” Mr. Ross said.
I whipped around. He and Conall had come up behind me in the street.
“She thinks I’ve seen the Caonaig,” I said helplessly.
“And what made her think that?”
“Because I saw an old woman washing a shirt in the river.”
He took a sharp breath that whistled through his teeth.
“But how can that mean someone’s going to die?” I said desperately. “It was just an old woman. I don’t understand.”
“Anna still has two brothers at the Front,” he said.
Still?
I turned to look down the road, where she’d disappeared.