‘And you opened every single window back and front when the wind’s getting up,’ Jules accused.
‘It’s luften, darling.’
‘What?’
‘Luften,’ Beulah replied, with an apologetic smile. ‘It’s German. It means to let air in. It’s all about letting the old, stale air out and new fresh air in. Very important for wellbeing, especially in an old property like this.’
‘Except it’s not going to be very good for my wellbeing if I cut myself to ribbons picking up pieces of broken glass.’
‘I can’t have fixed the window latch properly. Oh dear, I am a bit slapdash about things like that. The mirror must have smashed against the radiator on the way down. Let me clear it up.’
‘No,’ Jules said, raising her voice. ‘The last thing I need is blood all over the carpet. I’ll do it. I’ve already had to deal with one injury with Rita next door, I don’t want to be tending another one.’
She went downstairs to find an old newspaper and stood next to the hearth trying to compose herself. This is what happened when she spent time with her mother. Just when things seemed to be getting better between them something happened to make her churlish and impatient. Did she really want to go through the rest of their lives having this reaction? She reached into the log basket and retrieved some paper. She could change her attitude right now if she chose, or at least try to.
Beulah was standing in the same place when Jules returned to the bedroom. She was twisting her thin gold wedding band back and forth, a crestfallen expression consuming her face.
‘I’m so sorry.’ She sniffed. ‘I can’t seem to get anything right.’
Jules went and put her arms around her.
‘It’s fine, Mum. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Except I really don’t want either of us to have seven years’ bad luck, Jules.’
‘Me neither,’ she said, bending down to spread out the newspaper and gingerly place the mirror pieces on the sheets, ‘so it’s good that I don’t believe in that sort of thing. Who on earth made that one up anyway?’
‘It comes from the Romans, too. I’ve been reading more about them since we went to the villa. They thought that humans go through a process of renewal every seven years, in all areas,spiritually, physically, emotionally. They believed that a mirror reflected your soul and if you broke a mirror your soul would be broken.’
‘Already been there, done that, got the T-shirt courtesy of Gavin,’ Jules murmured, ‘so you don’t need to worry on my behalf, Mum.’
‘But I do worry, darling, all of the time.’
Jules looked at her mother’s carefully pedicured bare feet.
‘The main thing you have to worry about is getting glass splinters in your feet. I’ll get the vacuum out, but there might still be some bits that escape so I’d put some shoes on while walking about up here.’
She took the parcel down to the bin in the kitchen with Beulah following close behind.
‘Wait,’ Beulah said as Jules placed her foot on the pedal. ‘You can’t put that in there. You have to bury it.’
Jules’s hands hovered in mid-air.
‘In the garden. You have to bury the mirror, preferably under the light of a full moon.’
Do not snap, Jules,she said to herself. Remember your new benevolent attitude of only a few minutes ago.
‘O-kay, except I think the full moon was a couple of days ago and I’m not hanging on to a broken mirror for another month while I wait for the next one.’
‘No, no, no, that wouldn’t do at all,’ Beulah said, ‘and the light from the moon will still be strong so I’m sure it will be almost as effective.’
I have to be patient, Jules thought as she stared at the parcel of broken glass. I can be patient.
‘The thing is, Mum, this isn’t my garden. Someone might dig it up later on and injure themselves.’
Beulah moved to the half-open stable door and looked out.
‘We must be able to find a spot where that’s not likely to happen. What about there, beneath that willow tree? Nobody will try to plant anything beneath that, will they?’
