“Mary asked. “Tansey,” said the woman. It was the day after the first time they’d met, and the woman was suddenly there again, walking beside Mary, in the same dress and the same big boots. The boots were mucky, but the muck looked clean and shining, as if the boots had been painted to look mucky. There she was, and Mary suddenly remembered that they’d met the day before. She’d completely forgotten. “Tansey?” said Mary. “Is it, like, short for something?” “It is,” said the woman. “Well,” said Ma...ry. “What is it short for?” “Anastasia.” Mary stopped walking and looked at the woman—Anastasia. The name seemed old-fashioned too, like everything else about her. She was smiling at Mary. It was cold, but she wasn’t wearing a jacket or even a jumper. “I’ve heard that name before,” said Mary. “Sure, it’s only a name,” said the woman. “I suppose,” said Mary. “Have you moved into Ava’s house?” “I have not,” said the woman. “And who’s Ava when she’s at home?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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