Page 38 of Mirrors of the Past

He dropped her off at her door and she ran inside, already trying to get the straps off her bag, then he went along to his own bedroom.

The outfit was laid out on his bed. It wouldn’t take too long to get washed and changed, then he’d head down to the party as well.

At least this time, nobody would be critical of his sister’s marital status, and not for the first time he thanked whatever powers that be for his genuine friends and his family.

* * *

The apple-ducking — or apple-bobbing, as Viola was told it was called over here — was being taken very seriously by the boys. Unfortunately, at one point, Arthur had to be fished out of the bucket as he’d overbalanced trying to grab one of the floating fruits between his teeth, then a howl to rival a werewolf followed as one of his previously wobbly teeth embedded itself in the apple he’d won.

Arthur continued to roar in horror as blood dripped into the bucket and some of the smaller children cried as it stained the water red and simultaneously spread all over Arthur’s chin, dripping onto his no-longer-white ghost outfit.

‘Oh, Arthur!’ Elsie came to life, jumped to her feet and went over to him. ‘Are you all right, darling? That’s been ready to come out for a while, hasn’t it?’

‘Yeth.’ Arthur was trying to speak and staunch the blood at the same time.

‘Jolly good timing for Halloween,’ said Elsie. ‘Good prank.’

‘Not a prank,’ said Arthur grumpily. ‘With it wath . . .’

‘Why is Arthur bleeding?’ asked Marigold. She ran up to her young uncle and patted his cheek, getting blood all over herself in the process.

‘Goodness me,’ said Elsie’s friend Fabian, obviously trying not to laugh. He swooped on Marigold and gently removed her hand from Arthur’s face, dunked her hand in the water, then shook the liquid off it. Then he picked the bucket up and hurried out of the room to dispose of it, shouting over his shoulder as he went. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll wash the apples! No harm done! You can use the ones hanging up to play with in the meantime!’

Enyon pulled a face. ‘Ugh, Fabian, I’m not doing that! The girls have been at those — trying to see who’ll get married first!’

‘Have not!’ said Medora, while simultaneously flushing bright red. She was wearing a black lace dress with a high waist that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Regency times. In addition, she was wearing long, black gloves and a black tiara.

‘Have too!’ said Enyon. ‘I saw you all there squawking about it! And I heard you practising that poem and it sounded stupid! Who has a raven called Quoth anyway?’

‘The words are “Quoth the raven”,’ said Isolde icily, siding with her sister. ‘And if you studied your schoolbooks you would know that means the raven quoted the phrase “nevermore”. Stupid boy.’

‘I say,’ said Holly suddenly as Pearl, Viola and Holly watched the drama unfold. ‘Do you do that thing in America with the apple peel?’

‘What, where you pare the skin off in one long ribbon and drop it on the floor?’ Viola asked, tearing her attention away from the centre of the room.

‘That’s the one!’

‘Why, yes, we do. Although Pearl didn’t get an “E” when she did it, so we never thought she’d marry an Ernie.’

‘An “E” is quite a hard one to get,’ said Pearl defensively, but she sounded amused anyway.

‘It’s not hard at all,’ said Holly. ‘If it was a lower case “e”.’

‘Ah. No. You’re right.’ Pearl nodded. ‘Well, it must be a silly game anyway, as it wasn’t correct like Viola says.’

‘Viola, you should do it,’ said Holly. ‘You’re the only one we need to matchmake, and we need a clue.’

Viola laughed. ‘Fair dos. All right. I’ll get an apple.’ Confident as ever, she stood up and headed over to the hanging apples. ‘Boys. Anyone got a penknife?’ she called, and Sam obliged, handing her one.

‘There you go, sis,’ he said, grinning. ‘Let’s see how you’re gonna use it, then!’

‘Oh, I know how to use one of these, dear brother.’ She was just about to use it to cut the string, when Nancy, Elsie’s youngest cousin, stopped her. ‘No, Viola. You need to do it properly. If you grab it with your teeth, you’re getting married.’ She gnashed her little white teeth together to push home the point.

Viola blinked. ‘Very well. But if I can’t grab it, you have to let me cut it.’

‘Of course — because we need to see the initial anyway, don’t we?’ the girl said, grinning. ‘Go on. Try the game first, though.’

Viola laughed and shook her head. She ducked down and aimed at the apple, not expecting to get a bite at all now she was in company — her luck was like that! She had played this dozens of times at home, even with the dangerous addition of lit candles stuck to the tops of the apples, and she knew the best way for her to attack the fruit was to put her arms behind her back and go from beneath. She rarely missed if she attacked it logically.