Instead of drawing closer, Tilla sat up and started chattering about next door’s cockerel. “He has stopped crowing at night now: Did you notice?”
He
agreed without thinking, and reached for her.
“I’m well rested. Come here.”
She dodged his hand and stood up, still looking more cheerful than
anyone who had been awake half the night had any right to be. Only slowly did it dawn on him that there might
be a link between the silence of the cockerel, Tilla’s smile, and the rather
stringy meat in last night’s stew.
He
was not going to ask.
(from Caveat
Emptor by Ruth Downie)
8½*/10. The complete review is here.
.
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