Moonlight and Ashes by Sophie Masson Page B

daughter’s dress –’ I stammered.
    â€˜Rosa would think exactly the same as me,’ said Maria firmly.
    â€˜But it’s her wedding gown –’
    â€˜She will wear it just as happily at her wedding,’ said Maria, briskly, ‘and no harm done.’ Suddenly, there weretears in her eyes. ‘Your poor, dear mother would have wanted this for you, I know she would.’
    â€˜Yes,’ I said, without thinking, ‘it is what she wants.’ Then, seeing Maria’s puzzlement, I added hastily, ‘I had a dream the other night in which she spoke to me . . .’
    â€˜You see,’ said Maria, returning to briskness. ‘If your own mother spoke to you in a dream, then you must listen. If she wants you to go to the ball, then you must go. And how else are you going to go, if not with this dress?’
    I would have told her about the hazel tree’s magic there and then but something stopped me. It was better Maria didn’t know, for her sake if not mine, just in case it ever got to the ears of the Mancers. But it did leave me with a dilemma – how was I going to explain I didn’t need to take the dress to go to the ball? And then quite suddenly it struck me, as I remembered what the girls in my mother’s village received on their sixteenth birthday aside from the hazel twig: honey, cream and roses – all of them on this dress! I had assumed the hazel tree would gift me a ball gown transformed from leaves, as it had done in my dream, but what if that was not what was meant to happen? What if this was intended instead?
    But in the magic miniature (which had long since faded and disappeared like the handkerchief) the girl had been wearing a court dress, not a charming muslin frock made for a country wedding. I looked at myself in the mirror, at the way the cream and honey and pale green set off not only the colour of my hair, but also my skin, which isn’t as pale as a lady’s should be but is touched with a hint of sun. I saw the way the gown flattered my too-thin figure, making it look slim rather than skinny, and I made up mymind. ‘Then I’ll borrow it, dear Maria,’ I said, and hugged her, ‘but only if you let me give you something in return.’
    â€˜I’ll tell you what you can give me,’ she said with a bright smile, hugging me back. ‘You can give me the pleasure of showing off my dress at such a glittering occasion and you can also give me the pleasure of hearing all about the ball, the dresses and whether the Prince is really as handsome as his pictures – that would be more than enough.’
    â€˜Oh, Maria!’ I said, and hugged her again.
    â€˜There are some underthings that go with it . . .’ she said and, after rummaging in the trunk, she brought out a ribbon-trimmed petticoat of fine, white cotton, and a camisole and knickers to match. She put them into the parcel too, and turned to me, her eyes shining. ‘Now you’ll have to do your hair nicely, perhaps put in some flowers – and some ribbon, too. Wait a moment, I’ll see if I can find some –’
    â€˜No, no, it’s all right,’ I said hastily, thinking she might give everything away. ‘I’ll find some ribbons at the house – my stepsisters have discarded so many. And there are flowers in the garden and the greenhouse. I’ll wear your locket, too, just as I am now. See how pretty it looks against the dress?’
    â€˜No, no,’ said Maria, shaking her head decisively. ‘The locket is pretty but it is not suitable for such an occasion. I remember your mother had a lovely pearl necklace that would do very well.’
    It would. But it was locked away in Grizelda’s jewellery box and there wasn’t even the ghost of a chance she’d lend it to me. As to trying to get it out of there without asking her, I didn’t fancy my chances at all. Seeing the look on