“The decision is made. Find Aurelia and give her a list of foods you like or dislike. My wife is overweight, and you will not become like her.” I choke back the words I want to say because his wife is curvy but definitely not overweight. “You’ve lost the extra you were carrying,” he adds thoughtfully. “Being in the caves did some good.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I push to stand and head for the exit.
I find Aurelia in the kitchen preparing dinner. “Can I help?” I ask.
She smirks. “That would not go down well.”
“He’s busy, so he won’t know,” I say, grabbing a spoon and stirring the thick gravy. She smiles gratefully and slices beef from the joint.
“Do you eat with the family?” I ask, and she nods. “I was sometimes allowed to,” I tell her, “but mostly I had to watch everyone else eat.”
“As long as you don’t upset him, he’ll treat you fairly.”
“Did he coach you to say that?”
“You learn quickly,” she replies.
“I’m supposed to tell you what foods I like, but I like most things.”
“If you’d like extra, I can add it to our allowance.”
“Ah, well, he specifically said I should not get fat like his wife so . . .” I trail off when I see Ava in the doorway. “I’m sorry,” I mutter quickly, placing the spoon down next to the hob. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“Clearly.” Her expression is like stone, emotionless and cold, similar to my mother’s.
“I don’t like you in my daughter’s clothes,” she adds. “We’ll go into the village to find you something else.”
I glance down at the shirt and jeans. It’s the most comfortable outfit I’ve ever been given, and for once, I don’t feel like I stand out from the others. “I have some things at my father’s house,” I say. “I could go and get them?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she spits. “He can’t stand you. It’s why we’ve been burdened with you.” She turns her back and strides away. “Come.”
I glance at Aurelia, who gives a weak smile, and then I follow.
Ava walks fast as we head for the village, and I struggle to catch up. I assume it’s from years of trying to walk at Silas’s pace. But with everything I’ve been through in the last few hours, my body aches and my legs are weak. She glances back a few times, eyeing me with irritation. I’m relieved when we finally reach the clothes shop. It’s one of three and a place I’ve never been inside because my father always chose our clothes. Besides, I’d spent most of my time wearing an apron while I scrubbed floors and cooked.
Inside, Ava breezes around, grabbing things and throwing them at the shop assistant who gratefully places them over her arm while eagerly following us around. It’s a small shop, and there’s not a lot of choice, but Ava seems to find a couple things. She pulls back a curtain and turns to me expectedly. I stare blankly, and she groans in annoyance. “In there,” she barks. “You need to try them on.”
I go into the small cubicle, and to my horror, Ava keeps the curtain back. “Undress,” she orders impatiently.
I unfasten the shirt and slowly remove it, aware I have no underwear on because the only set I own felt dirty and the knickers were bloody. I push down the jeans and gasp at the blood stains in them. “Oh,” I whisper, feeling my face burn with embarrassment.
“Jesus,” she hisses, turning to the shop assistant. “Find her some underwear. Something plain.”
She returns seconds later with some knickers and a few bras. I take a set and slip it on quickly. Ava hands me a long dress, and I slip it over my head and turn to the mirror. It hangs loosely, and with no belt in the centre, it gives me no shape at all. The fact it’s covered in pink flowers only makes me hate it more. “I don’t think this is for me,” I say, turning to face her.
She grins. “It’s perfect. Next,” she says as she thrusts another in the same design but with a different pattern.
“Erm, maybe we could get a smaller size?” I suggest.
“These dresses are coming from my allowance,” she snaps, “and you’ll be grateful for them.”
I give a stiff nod and try on the second. It’s almost as hideous as the first, but Ava looks delighted.
I start to remove it, and she laughs. “What are you doing?”
“Getting my clothes back on.”
“They’re not yours. They’re Pearl’s. These are now yours, so keep it on.” I drop the hem and take one last look in the mirror before following her to the counter, where the shop assistant bags the first dress and Pearl’s clothes.
