Winter's End Read Online Free Page B

very round and fat, and . . .”
    Still stroking Helen’s head, Paula told the story of the hedgehog, then another anecdote about a lost purse, and then yet another. She never told you what you should or shouldn’t do in life. She just told stories. A moment came when Helen felt herself falling asleep. She didn’t want to. She hauled herself up and buried herself in her consoler’s bosom like a small child. Paula put her arms around her and sang songs that flowed into each other with a sweet, dreamlike sound.
    “Helen, are you asleep? You’ll have to go back now.”
    “I wasn’t asleep.”
    The clock said eight thirty. She slowly shook off the lethargy that had come over her and went to get her coat.
    “Can I have something for Milena? And the end of the tart that we kept for her?”
    “I’ll put it all in a basket. Just leave the basket at the library and I’ll collect it tomorrow. When will you be coming back to see me?”
    “I don’t know. I’ll try to wait until January for my second outing. I hope there won’t be too much snow to get up here then.”
    They stood on the doorstep in each other’s arms for a long time. Helen breathed in Paula’s scent: her apron, her sweater, her hair.
    “See you soon, Paula. Thank you. Give Octavo a kiss for me.”
    “See you soon, my beauty. I’ll always be here for you.”
    Helen hurried along the village streets, carrying the basket. It was still drizzling, and hard to see. She hurried into the library, looking forward to seeing Milena enjoy her baked potatoes. She’d just have time to eat them and the pear tart before they set off to go back to the boarding school.
    But when Helen entered the room, she stopped short. It was empty except for the end of a log burning out in the stove.
    After the first moment of shock, Helen thought her friend might be upstairs. There was a door at the back of the room, and probably a staircase beyond it.
    “Milena! Are you up there?”
    She tried to open the door, but it was locked.
    “Where are you, Milena?”
    Terror rose in her. Why would Milena have gone back ahead of her? Was she afraid of being late? They had plenty of time.
    Then she saw a book on the table with a piece of notepaper folded in half sticking out of its pages. Helen snatched it up. Milena’s elegant handwriting covered just four lines:
    Helen, I’m not going back to school. Don’t worry. I’m all right. Ask Catharina Pancek to forgive me.
    Milena
    (Please don’t hate me.)
    Helen stood in horror for a full minute, unable to react. Then she felt rising anger. How could Milena do such a thing? How cowardly to leave like that, without any explanation, either! She felt betrayed. Tears of rage came to her eyes.
Please don’t hate me.
How could she not? At that moment she really did hate her friend. Selfish and irresponsible, that’s what she was! What could she do? Go back to Paula and tell her what had happened? That wouldn’t be any use. Run away? Not go back to the boarding school hersel f? After all, she might as well take her chance, because little Catharina would be put in the Sky anyway. But where would she go? And suppose Milena came back after all? Then she, Helen, would be to blame for Catharina’s imprisonment. Questions came thick and fast in her mind, but no answers.
    She put the note in her pocket and left, leavingbehind the basket containing the plate of baked potatoes, still warm and wrapped in a cloth, and the slice of pear tart.
    As she carefully walked back in the dark, it occurred to her that this would cause a sensation: never in living memory had any girl at the school not returned. If they were allowed out from time to time, it was because of the certainty that no girl would dare to condemn another perfectly innocent comrade to the torment of the Sky. The most cruel punishments stipulated in the school rules sent you there for a few hours, but never for days or weeks.
You might even die there,
thought Helen.
    She retched with