quickly, ‘Why did you do that?’
‘Oh, she might come in.’
‘Are you scared of that?’
‘Scared? Of course not. It’s not that. But I want us two to be alone together. Nobody is to come in now!’
‘No, nobody is to come in now,’ repeated Siss, beginning to feel happy. She felt that the bond between Unn and herself was beginning to be tied. Back in their places they fell silent again. Then Unn asked, ‘How old are you, Siss?’
‘Eleven and a bit.’
‘I’m eleven, too,’ said Unn.
‘We’re about the same height.’
‘Yes, we’re almost the same size,’ said Unn. Even though they felt drawn to one another it was difficult to get the conversation going. They sat fingering objects within reach and looking about them. The room was snugly warm. It was on account of the roaring stove of course, but not that alone. A roaring stove would not have helped if they had not been attuned to one another.
In this warmth Siss asked, ‘Do you like living here with us?’
‘Yes, I like being with Auntie.’
‘Yes, of course, that’s not what I meant. I mean at school and – why do you never … ?’
‘Look, I said you weren’t to ask me about that,’ said Unn curtly, and Siss had already regretted the question.
‘Are you going to stay here for good now?’ she asked quickly. Surely
that
couldn’t be dangerous? Was there some danger here? No, there couldn’t be, but she didn’t feel quite safe either; evidently it was easy to go too far.
‘Yes, I’m going to stay here,’ answered Unn. ‘I have nobody else to stay with now besides Auntie.’
They sat in silence again. Then Unn asked searchingly, ‘Why don’t you ask about my mother?’
‘What? Siss looked away at the wall as if caught. ‘Don’t know,’ she said.
She met Unn’s eyes again. It was unavoidable. So was thequestion. It had to be answered because it was about something important. She stammered, ‘Because she died last spring, I suppose. That’s what I heard.’
Unn said clearly and loudly, ‘My mother wasn’t married either. That’s why there’s no -’ She stopped.
Siss nodded.
Unn went on, ‘Last spring she fell ill and died. She was ill for only one week. Then she died.’
‘Yes.’
It was a relief when this had been said; the atmosphere felt lighter. The whole district knew what Unn had just told her. Auntie had said all this and more when Unn arrived last spring. Didn’t Unn know that? Still, it had to be talked about now in this beginning of the friendship that was to be forged. There was something else, too. Unn said, ‘Do you know anything about my father?’
‘No!’
‘Nor do I, except for the little Mother told me. I’ve never seen him. He had a car.’
‘Yes, I suppose he did.’
‘Why should he?’
‘Oh, I don’t know – people often do have cars, don’t they?’
‘Yes, I suppose so. I’ve never seen him. There’s nobody else besides Auntie now. I shall stay with Auntie for ever.’
Yes! thought Siss, Unn would stay here for ever. Unn had a clear pair of eyes that held Siss fascinated, just as they had done the very first time. There was no more talk about parents. Siss’s father and mother were never mentioned. Siss was sure Unn knew everything about them; they were simply at home in a respectable house, Father had a respectable job, they had everything they needed and there was nothing shecould tell her. Neither did Unn enquire. It was as if Siss had fewer parents than Unn.
But she did remember siblings.
‘You have brothers and sisters, don’t you, Siss?’
‘No, there’s only me.’
‘That’s very convenient then,’ said Unn.
It occurred to Siss what Unn’s remark really meant: she was going to stay here for ever. Their friendship lay open before them like a smooth path. Something important had happened.
‘Of course it’s convenient. It means we can meet even more often.’
‘We meet every day at school as it is.’
‘So we do.’
They laughed briefly at
‘Oh, she might come in.’
‘Are you scared of that?’
‘Scared? Of course not. It’s not that. But I want us two to be alone together. Nobody is to come in now!’
‘No, nobody is to come in now,’ repeated Siss, beginning to feel happy. She felt that the bond between Unn and herself was beginning to be tied. Back in their places they fell silent again. Then Unn asked, ‘How old are you, Siss?’
‘Eleven and a bit.’
‘I’m eleven, too,’ said Unn.
‘We’re about the same height.’
‘Yes, we’re almost the same size,’ said Unn. Even though they felt drawn to one another it was difficult to get the conversation going. They sat fingering objects within reach and looking about them. The room was snugly warm. It was on account of the roaring stove of course, but not that alone. A roaring stove would not have helped if they had not been attuned to one another.
In this warmth Siss asked, ‘Do you like living here with us?’
‘Yes, I like being with Auntie.’
‘Yes, of course, that’s not what I meant. I mean at school and – why do you never … ?’
‘Look, I said you weren’t to ask me about that,’ said Unn curtly, and Siss had already regretted the question.
‘Are you going to stay here for good now?’ she asked quickly. Surely
that
couldn’t be dangerous? Was there some danger here? No, there couldn’t be, but she didn’t feel quite safe either; evidently it was easy to go too far.
‘Yes, I’m going to stay here,’ answered Unn. ‘I have nobody else to stay with now besides Auntie.’
They sat in silence again. Then Unn asked searchingly, ‘Why don’t you ask about my mother?’
‘What? Siss looked away at the wall as if caught. ‘Don’t know,’ she said.
She met Unn’s eyes again. It was unavoidable. So was thequestion. It had to be answered because it was about something important. She stammered, ‘Because she died last spring, I suppose. That’s what I heard.’
Unn said clearly and loudly, ‘My mother wasn’t married either. That’s why there’s no -’ She stopped.
Siss nodded.
Unn went on, ‘Last spring she fell ill and died. She was ill for only one week. Then she died.’
‘Yes.’
It was a relief when this had been said; the atmosphere felt lighter. The whole district knew what Unn had just told her. Auntie had said all this and more when Unn arrived last spring. Didn’t Unn know that? Still, it had to be talked about now in this beginning of the friendship that was to be forged. There was something else, too. Unn said, ‘Do you know anything about my father?’
‘No!’
‘Nor do I, except for the little Mother told me. I’ve never seen him. He had a car.’
‘Yes, I suppose he did.’
‘Why should he?’
‘Oh, I don’t know – people often do have cars, don’t they?’
‘Yes, I suppose so. I’ve never seen him. There’s nobody else besides Auntie now. I shall stay with Auntie for ever.’
Yes! thought Siss, Unn would stay here for ever. Unn had a clear pair of eyes that held Siss fascinated, just as they had done the very first time. There was no more talk about parents. Siss’s father and mother were never mentioned. Siss was sure Unn knew everything about them; they were simply at home in a respectable house, Father had a respectable job, they had everything they needed and there was nothing shecould tell her. Neither did Unn enquire. It was as if Siss had fewer parents than Unn.
But she did remember siblings.
‘You have brothers and sisters, don’t you, Siss?’
‘No, there’s only me.’
‘That’s very convenient then,’ said Unn.
It occurred to Siss what Unn’s remark really meant: she was going to stay here for ever. Their friendship lay open before them like a smooth path. Something important had happened.
‘Of course it’s convenient. It means we can meet even more often.’
‘We meet every day at school as it is.’
‘So we do.’
They laughed briefly at