As the sun set, I ate a quick supper and fed Alice again, leaving about a third of the porridge for her tomorrow morning. Bringing down my pillow and blanket from the bedroom, I set them on the drawing room couch, right across from the grandfather clock. Though I settled down with a book, listening to the evening crickets, I could hardly focus on what I was reading. My entire body was tired from all the moving around I did. As my aching back sank into the cushion, the words on the page grew cloudy. I sighed with content, and finally set down the book, my mind growing hazy.
Pulling over my pillow, I set it against the arm of the couch and fell over, staring at the lamp. The lights were already off in the kitchen, leaving Alice and me on an island once more. My eyes wandered over to her. I could hardly see her face from here, only the top of her head. She was still breathing, which was all I really needed to see. I thought about replacing the towel on her forehead one more time, but I was too comfortable to move. I imagined myself getting up and going to the sink, over and over, until I could muster the strength to go do it, but instead, I fell asleep.
In the morning, bright and early, I got up and shut off the lamp. I left it on all night. My shoulders were still sore, likely from the fact I slept on the arm of the couch. To my surprise, I woke up with a light weight on my back. As I turned, the weight jumped off and landed on the floor in front of me, loudly meowing.
Rubbing my eyes, I hoarsely breathed out. “I’m sorry, Abbey… Did I forget to refill your bowl last night…?”
She only meowed again and flicked her tail. Getting up, I checked Alice’s temperature, then took her towel and went to the kitchen. Abbey followed closely behind. Her bowl was indeed empty, with a few breadcrumbs left. Quickly mashing up some bread and potatoes for her, I set out her bowl before attending to Alice. Wetting the towel and placing it on the girl’s head, I made myself a proper breakfast this morning. Heating up the porridge on one stovetop while cracking eggs into a pan on the other, I mused, rationing the ingredients I had left. There was not enough to last the week, I judged. Not if Alice was going to keep eating my porridge. And I hardly bought anything during our quick trip to the market because of the rain. Perhaps I would have to head into town today. Not for too long, however. Maybe a short trip.
Feeding Alice, then feeding myself, I decided I would leave for town. The girl seemed stable enough. Stable as she could be, in her weakened state. I pondered as to what else I could do during the train ride to the market. Bringing in a doctor to my home would not do. Even a family doctor that Father knew well. She was a spirit, for goodness sake.
As the train rolled into the city, I could hear loud clamouring in the distance. I remembered the parade, and looked out the windows of the tram. The streets here were mostly empty, despite the sunny day. I realised the carriage was empty as well. It was tempting to run over to my shop. I was sure I missed good business today by not opening my shop before the parade. Typically, on these days, the women came in first, then the men and soldiers, after the parade had disbanded. But, I stuck to my plan and headed towards the market.
The parade was quite fierce. Lots of shouting, hollering and hooting to be found. It was a military parade, complete with all the tanks and bands you could imagine. A fairly typical show of might. I walked along the outskirts of the crowd, giving the demonstration a look every once in a while. A marching band. Flag-waving cavalry. Soldiers marched by with their muskets held high. With such a crowd, all I could see were the tips of their hats and muskets. Sometimes I had to stop and watch out for people and children running back and forth from the crowd and elsewhere. Maybe coming into town today was not such a good idea. There was no way the market would be open when practically everyone was here. With the biggest street closed off for the parade, it would be a journey for any merchant to travel in and out. The booths along the side of the parade, such as the one Jane was running, were no good for what I needed, as they served hot and fresh food rather than groceries.
From behind, I thought I heard my name. It was hardly audible with all the ruckus, and the voice was not familiar. However, when I ignored it, I heard it again, louder this time. Someone was definitely calling my name.
“Ms. Elisabeth!”
It was a tenor, clearly masculine tone. The accent felt faintly familiar. I peered in the direction of the voice, unsure if there was another Elisabeth someone was calling to. However, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone looking straight at me.