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AUTUMN
“Yum, sheep sorrel!”
Freya pounced on the tiny leaves half-hidden in the short grass, and picked one leaf off each of several plants before stuffing them in her mouth. The delicious, sour tang was one of her favourite flavours. Certainly, better than the dreadfully bitter dandelion salad their Mum had made last week. They’d been supplementing the family’s now-single income by foraging for food, led by Danae, who had substituted herblore for their usual after-school lessons with barely a blink.
“Freya, leave some for me.” Tammy shoved her sister aside to gather her own mouthful.
“Don’t be greedy, I’m hungry too, you know.”
“You’re always hungry, even after we’ve had a charity food box delivered,” Tammy said.
“I’m growing faster than you.” Tammy couldn’t argue with that, thought Freya. Tammy hadn’t gained height in a year.
“Outwards, yeah.”
“You’re not one to talk.”
The sisters’ casual bickering was interrupted by a distant call.
“Freya. Tammy. Make sure you bring something home.”
They sighed as one.
“Yes, Mum.”
“OK, Freya, back to the job then. If you can keep yourself from eating everything,” Tammy said.
Freya picked just one more tangy leaf to soothe her empty stomach. She loved food foraging when she wasn’t hungry, but there hadn’t been any food in the community pantry yesterday, so there had been nothing for breakfast this morning. A handful of sheep sorrel was tasty, but hardly filling. She dutifully picked a few leaves for her bag. She looked ahead along the flat country road they were following, overhung with shrubs, and was rewarded with a much tastier sight.
“Look, wild walnuts!”
“Hardly wild if they’re beside a road leading to the local hall,” Tammy said.
“I don’t care, they’ll taste good.”
A car approached from the distant town, and Freya averted her eyes, pretending to be just enjoying a country walk with her family.
Nothing to see here, we’re not freaks eating wild food.
Freya hated people thinking she was odd. It was bad enough being odd.
Once the car had passed, Freya ran along the road towards the leaning old walnut tree, which had evidently kept growing after being partially blown over in some earlier storm. It was pinning a fence almost to the ground, in addition to overshadowing the road they were following.
“Thank goodness it’s autumn, I don’t think I could have waited for the nuts to fall if we’d found this tree in summer.”
“In summer we had a house and a garden. And normal food.”
“Well, yes. But walnuts are pretty normal. Hazelnuts, too.”
Freya gave up on arguing with Tammy, putting her efforts into collecting as many of the smooth, green-husked nuts as she could. The high winds last week had obviously blown a lot of walnuts off the tree, as the husks were beginning to split, revealing glimpses of a pale, wrinkled brown shell underneath. Freya pulled the husk off one nut, and cracked the shell between her teeth before prying out the nut meat. Tammy asked her dryly,
“You know they have to dry before they taste good, right?”
“This tastes good even if it’s not ripe yet.” That wasn’t quite true, thought Freya, grimacing at the faintly bitter skin around the nutmeat, but she was hungry enough not to care. Walnuts, even not-quite-ready walnuts, were much more filling than sorrel. She noticed that Tammy had also paused to open a nut.
“This takes me back.” Their mother’s voice was bemused. Both girls turned to see their Mum had caught up to them. “We went foraging all the time during the pandemic.”
Freya sighed to herself.
Here we go again.
“We know, Mum. You’ve told us a million times, that’s why you know how to forage, you would have starved without whatever that book was. Blah, blah, blah,” said Tammy.
“Don’t be rude, Tammy. And aren’t you glad of it now? We’d be much hungrier if I hadn’t taught you how to find your own food,” said Danae. There was a wobble in her voice that made Freya’s insides squirm.
“I suppose. But it’s not a pandemic now, we just lost our house. And couldn’t we have called on a house hob or something? They’re supposed to keep the occupants of their houses fed, aren’t they?” Tammy said.
“Well, if we had a permanent house that might work.” Danae’s voice had a sarcastic edge now as well as a wobble. Freya wished Tammy hadn’t mentioned anything. But her Mum continued, voice rising.
“If you don’t mind being fed on earthworms, then yes, I suppose we could have done that. Personally, I prefer not to rely on a supernatural being with badger taste buds, that we don’t even have around right now.”
Danae turned away, her lips so firmly pressed together that Freya was sure she was trying not to cry. After a moment in which Freya could hear her breathing heavily, she turned back, apparently pretending nothing had happened.
“And I’m just as glad it’s not a pandemic again, it was so crowded with foragers back then. Plus of course, there were people getting ill everywhere so we had to be extra careful with washing our gleanings. With just us out here, we have more to choose from, and we’re unlikely to get ill unless some angry demi with pestilence in their past curses us. Here, fill this bag with nuts, this tree could keep us in protein all winter if it comes to that.” Danae thrust a large paper bag at Tammy.
Freya shuddered. She hoped it did not come to that, however much she liked walnuts. The last few weeks had made her acutely aware of how much she liked regular, store-bought food. In contrast to her daughters, their mother seemed to be revelling in the opportunity to revive her old skills, and she reminisced constantly.
“You know, now is one of the best times to be foraging for food. There’s so much still available. Now spring, that’s the real hungry season. You wouldn’t think so, would you? But it’s too early for most things to be ready, just a few greens and suchlike. I never thought I’d be sick of asparagus, but I was that year. Now, look, here’s another treasure!”
A little way past the walnut, Freya saw her mother reaching over a fence to a short bush with large leaves and small brown roundish things on it. “What’s that one?” asked Freya warily. Treasures these days were not always what they seemed.
“It’s a medlar!” Her mother smiled. “Something sweet to eat, if we wait for the fruit to blet.”
“What does blet mean when it’s at home?”
“Er... hmm. To soften with age.”
“You mean rot, don’t you?” Freya scowled at the innocent-looking brown fruit.
“Well, in a way. But it’s good. I’ve had it before.”
“Mum, that’s so disgusting. You want us to eat rotten fruit, now? Ugh!”
Tammy made exaggerated retching noises. Freya snickered. While she didn’t want to eat rotten - no, bletted fruit either, Tammy’s reaction was so typically overstated.
“What if that wildlife-tending friend of yours offered you bletted medlars. Would you eat them then?” she asked Tammy.
Tammy lifted her chin airily.
“Dan wouldn’t offer me rotten fruit in the first place. He has higher standards.”
“Well, Miss high standards, how about Freya finishes collecting walnuts while you and I get those hazelnuts further along. They should be ready by now. If you are lucky, we’ll find some pheasant berries too. You can be the taste tester. If you’re extraordinarily lucky they’ll be ripe. And meanwhile, how about you tell me about this Dan character? I don’t believe you’ve introduced me.”
Tammy looked daggers at Freya for bringing up Dan in front of their mother. Freya looked the other way, and continued collecting walnuts. She wondered what pheasant berries were like. It sounded like an unripe one would not be a treat. She could hear her Mum and sister arguing as they advanced towards the hazelnuts. She didn’t like Tammy keeping secrets from their parents, but she didn’t want to be a snitch, either. Tammy had explained several times in the past that such actions were frowned upon, especially by big sisters.
“Dan’s just someone I met at school, Mum,” explained Tammy.
Freya opened her mouth to protest this lie, but shut it again. Tammy would definitely call her a snitch if she told her Mum that.
“And what sort of demi is Dan, then?” Danae’s voice was alert.
“He’s not a demi. Or a were, or a troll. Just a human.”
“Well, that’s a rarity. I hope he’s a nice boy, not hanging with vamps or anything?”
“Ooh, Mum, I would never go out with someone who was ‘hanging with vamps’. Anyway, no-one says that anymore. You’re so out of date.”
“Well, what do they call it now? Update me.”
“It’s called bleeding up, Mum. And anyway, I don’t know anyone who does that. It’s a gross idea, who wants to be food?”
“I’m glad to hear we are in agreement with that, at any rate. So, speaking of food, that’s all the hazelnuts picked.” She called out to Freya. “Have you got the walnuts?
“Yes, Mum.”
“Good. Freya, have we got enough salad leaves yet? No? Then everyone on the lookout for fathen or nettles, we can have cooked greens at least. Though it’s a bit late for nettles. And there could be apples in the hedgerow, that would be better than pheasantberries.”
“You want us to eat nettles now? That’s taking hunger a bit far, isn’t it?”
“Do you want to eat or don’t you, Tammy?” Danae asked.
“I want to eat real food.”
“This is as real as food gets.”
“Then I want fake food. In a packet,” Tammy said.
Near the damp ditch, Freya had found something else that looked familiar. She picked the frondy leaves on their crunchy stem and waved it proudly.
“Look Mum, celery. We could have soup with this, right?”
Freya quite liked soup, it was a comforting food, especially with fresh bread to go with it. Now, she held out the vegetation she’d found for her mother to inspect.
“Not that one! Freya, that’s not celery. That’s deadly poison. Hemlock water droplet. Put it down and we’ll find somewhere to wash your hands. But better look closely at it so you’ll see the difference, next time. I don’t want any of that ending up in our soup! We’d all be in hospital or worse.”
Freya dropped the offending plant as though she’d been burned, a curdling anxiety forming in the pit of her stomach at the thought that she had almost poisoned her family. Though the crisis had been averted, the feeling stuck with her, a nagging guilt that spoiled her enjoyment of the day.
The small family trudged on through the chill autumn day, gathering and gleaning. It took several hours before they had enough food to satisfy their mother, by which time they’d ventured far through the countryside beyond the town, and it took them another hour to get back to the holiday home they’d moved into after their time at the bed and breakfast had run its course. The chalet was a slight improvement on the mouldering bed and breakfast, but only in that they no longer all had to squeeze into one room. The owner of the chalet had explained that the reason they were having it cheap was because it was the off season, and they’d be cleaning the shared toilet block themselves. Freya thought the holiday park owner was definitely part troll - or possibly a descendant of Charon. He certainly seemed miserly enough to be a descendant of the stingy river-guarding god.
***
