have the sense to shut up when she was in trouble.
Daniela could hear the murmur of voices from the front room as she crept down the hall.
‘The problem with all this,’ Henry said, with the air of continuing a conversation that’d been going on for hours; days, possibly, ‘is it’s such piddly stuff. I mean, look at that delivery yesterday. We paid good money, but it’s just crap. Who in their right mind wants to buy this?’
Daniela’s father grunted, non-committal.
‘We need to diversify,’ Henry said. ‘Furniture like that … it’s had its day. No one wants big, dark, heavy items anymore. It’s no wonder our profits are freefalling.’
As Franklyn stepped past the open door of the front room, Henry caught sight of her and called out, ‘Frankie, you agree, don’t you?’
Franklyn stopped, clocking the conversation. Her body language made it clear she wanted no part in it.
Oblivious, Henry said, ‘The shop’s gotta move with the times. New stock, new customers. A whole updated look. Get some signage out front so people actually know it’s there when they drive past.’
Franklyn tilted her head, then said, ‘That’ll cost money, right?’
‘That’s how business works, sweetheart. Spend money to make money.’
‘Easily said when it’s not your money.’ She stepped into the front room so she was out of Daniela’s sight.
Daniela, tucked behind the door, listening, could almost hear Henry bristle. ‘Now, what’s brought that on? We’ve all put into this business, me and your pa both.’
‘Is that so?’ Franklyn said. Her tone was light, mocking. It was the same tone that’d got her kicked out of college less than a month ago. ‘Funny how it’s his name above the door, not yours. Here.’ There was a slight scuffle of noise as Franklyn moved the box from one arm to the other.
‘What’s that?’
‘Found it in the garage. It’s addressed to you.’ It wasn’t clear who that comment was aimed at.
Franklyn came out of the sitting room and kept walking, right out of the house.
Henry waited until the front door slammed before he said, ‘She should watch that mouth of hers. Get her in trouble someday.’
Daniela’s dad chuckled, like maybe he agreed. Daniela dug her fingernails into her palms.
Auryn was drawing back, as if she was having second thoughts about this whole business. Daniela grabbed her hand, briefly, and squeezed. It was as much reassurance as she could muster. Then she pushed forwards, head down, eyes fixed on the floor. She couldn’t help a quick glance into the front room. Henry had got up and retrieved a white envelope from the table, which was presumably what Franklyn had left for them. Daniela didn’t recall seeing any envelopes in the garage, but there’d been a lot of stuff. She hadn’t looked at everything.
While Henry’s back was turned, Daniela slipped past the door of the sitting room, holding her breath. No one called out to stop her.
When she reached the front door, Daniela glanced back, assuming she’d have to wave Auryn to join her, but found Auryn right behind her, a silent shadow with both hands clutched to her chest.
Outside, the wind had picked up, rattling the trees and sending loose leaves skirting across the road. It’d rained heavily for most of the day and, although it’d now stopped, every gust of wind brought a flurry of droplets from the branches overhead.
Franklyn hadn’t waited. She was already striding away from the house into the woods. The sun was on its way down, leaving the sky dark grey and getting darker by the minute. Daniela had no fear of the woods. Her earliest memories were out here, among the trees that surrounded the house. Either with her sisters, playing, or on her own, walking or running or hiding or crying. When she was in the house, her emotions were tied up tight inside her chest. But the woods saw her as she really was.
Auryn, however, was skittish about being outside once it got dark, although she would happily tag along with her sisters during the day. Recently, Daniela had discovered Auryn’s night vision wasn’t good, and in the shadows beneath the trees, the poor girl was almost blind. Daniela led the way up the bank that sloped away from the house. At the top she glanced back. The house crouched in the pool of illumination from the windows of the front room and the kitchen. There were no streetlights on the road, and the house sat too far from the village to be included in its ambient glow. The only light was what it created for itself.
The woods were criss-crossed with pathways, lines of trampled mud that wove through the trees and undergrowth. Daniela had walked those paths so often she probably could’ve found her way blindfolded. She trailed her fingers over the damp ferns at the side of the path.
Franklyn picked a route seemingly at random, heading east. She didn’t bother looking back to make sure the others followed her.
Auryn was struggling to keep up. Loose roots conspired to trip her at every other step. On impulse, Daniela caught hold of Auryn’s gloved hand, in a way she hadn’t done since they were both much younger. She could just make out Auryn flashing a grateful smile in the gloom. Daniela helped guide her along the path, hand in hand like small children. Their proximity made Daniela realise that a strange distance had grown between them. They’d been close, almost as if they were twins, when they were younger. Was it just their mother’s absence that’d pushed them apart?
The rain started again as they walked. Water dripped off the leaves and dimpled the puddles that collected in every footprint along the path. Some of the footprints probably belonged to Daniela and her sisters from days before. The rest had been left by dog-walkers or fishermen or hikers. Even during the worst weather, there were always people out in the woods.
‘We should’ve invited Leo,’ Auryn said.
Daniela felt a flash of annoyance. Henry’s son Leo was in the year below Daniela at school, but up until recently that hadn’t mattered – he’d been best friends with both her and Auryn for as long as Daniela could remember. To all intents and purposes, he was the brother who was missing from their lives. The girls at school thought it weird that he and Daniela were friends but nothing more. They’d ask her, giggling, whether she’d ever kissed him, or thought about kissing him.
No, she’d never thought about it. Why would she?
But that answer marked her out, apparently. Her friends had looked sceptical, side-eyed her and whispered. So next time, Daniela said of course she’d thought about it. Why wouldn’t she?
After that, Daniela had started watching Leo. Trying to convince herself she felt something more for him than just normal friendship. As an odd side-effect, she’d become jealous of Auryn, who was in Leo’s class and therefore got to spend more time with him.
A magpie in a nearby tree let out a ratcheting cry, close enough to startle Auryn. Daniela said, ‘It’s just a bird, don’t worry,’ but the sound had rattled her nerves as well. That was the problem with those woods. They were usually so quiet that the slightest noise could be frightening. She squeezed Auryn’s hand again, but the hand-holding felt strange and childish now, so she let go a few moments later.
Inevitably, the path led to the water. To the north of the village, the River Clynebade forked and became the Clyne and the Bade, so if Daniela walked in pretty much any direction from Stonecrop, she would come up against one of the twin rivers that bracketed the village. On quiet nights, Daniela could hear the water muttering as it flowed not far from the house.
This path emerged on the banks of the River Bade, within sight of the bridge and the road that eventually wound its way to Hackett, the next town over. To their right, a fishing platform extended a few feet out over the river. After the recent rains, the waters were almost level with the planks. The structure thrummed with the force of the current.
Franklyn put a foot on the platform to test it. She leaned her weight