Violet.She found herself wondering if her sister needed help getting into the mulberry-coloured dinner dress Una had left on the bed for her.She had an idea it might pinch Violet in the upper arms, which Una had noticed were surprisingly muscular.And Violet never had any idea what to do with her hair—if she even had any hairpins to do it with.
Taking a handful of her own from the dressing table, Una slipped quietly down the stairs with Oolong at her heels.Sure enough, from the hallway she could hear sounds of unmistakable frustration emanating from Gwen’s old room.
Una bit her lip.It wasn’t her problem, after all.But neither had the quetzalcoatl been her sister’s problem that morning, and yet Violet had stood by her and chosen to make it hers.
Una pushed open the carelessly unlatched door.
Violet was in front of the mirror, making spasmodic attempts to reach her own head in elbow-length sleeves that prevented any such movement.She looked like a puppet being jerked about on snarled strings.
“Stop,” Una ordered.
Violet stopped.
Una tucked the hairpins into the corner of her mouth, marched up to her sister, and began to separate Violet’s hair into six equal strands.Thank goodness she had brushed it, at least!That was half the work done already.Una glanced at the clock—they could still make it to dinner in time.
To her surprise, Una could feel Violet relax, her breathing slowing down.She had forgotten that Violet liked her hair to be touched.
Violet said softly, as if she had read her thoughts, “You always did say nice things about my hair—you, and Gwydion, too.”
Panicked, Una’s eyes flicked to Violet’s in the mirror, then back to her hair.
“Did you ever hear from him, after I left?”Violet persisted.
Una shook her head, grateful that the pins in her mouth gave her an excuse not to speak on the subject.Gwydion was the very last thing in the world she wanted brought up with her sister.
Violet let out a wistful breath.“He must have been furious with me.”
Una felt her eyebrows jump upward.
“I was furious, too,” Violet reflected.“But it’s hard to be furious for more than two years.Believe me, I tried.”
Their eyes met in the mirror.
It isn’t hard for me,Una thought.She had found it distressingly easy to go on being angry at Violet, and her sister didn’t even seem to realise it.
A wicked smile curved Violet’s lips.“You don’t know how close I came to just…lopping it all off,” she whispered.
Una froze in horror at the thought.Violet with long hair was bad enough—Violet crop-headed would be a new stage on the broad road to ruin.
Violet burst out laughing, pointing at Una in the mirror.“The memory of thatlook!Let’s just say…it kept me out of all sorts of trouble.When I wasn’t quite sure about something, I’d imagine that look, and it would stop me dead.”
Recovering, Una plucked a pin out of her mouth and fixed the first plait firmly over Violet’s head.Then she took the rest of the pins out of her mouth.
“So there wasn’t anyone else looking out for you, all that time?”Una asked, keeping her voice light while she pinned up the other plait.Somehow, she’d never imagined Violet being alone.People tended to like Violet, maddening as she was.
“Not very often,” Violet admitted.
The pain in Una’s chest surprised her.The idea of Violet being lonely and friendless—it hurt.
“Well, was it worth all that effort?”asked Violet, stepping back and spinning round.
Violet did, in fact, look lovely, in that careless, dashing, ripe-hued way that contrasted so startlingly with Una’s watercolour shades.
“I’m glad you didn’t crop your hair,” Una said.“It’s so thick and glossy, not like my thistledown.And I’ll let the tucks out of that dress for you later.It won’t take much.”
Violet was looking at her oddly.Too late, Una realised she had opened the door between them a little too wide.She turned to leave before Violet could walk through it.
“Wait!”Violet cried.“You said—before—that everything was easy for me.You said the rules are different for me.Well, you’re right.”
