A noise rang out from the next room. Knocking over a pot, Agatha rushed in. The boy stood frozen, staring at the shattered vase.
«What have you done?» the old woman shouted, swatting her grandsons back with a damp tea towel.
«Nan, Ill clean it up!» He scrambled for the broken pieces.
«Ill clean *you* up!» The towel came down again. «Sit on the bed and dont move!»
She swept up the mess, then returned to the kitchenonly to find a puddle on the floor, potatoes scattered across it. At least they were still raw. She gathered them, washed them again, and shoved them into the oven. Sinking into a chair, she wiped her eyes, cursing her daughter in her head.
Why, of all people, did *her* family have to be like this? No husband for her, none for her daughter either. And now her daughter had gone to the train station in London, bringing home some prison guard shed never even metjust some pen-pal romance. Now *he* would be living under her roof. As if feeding her daughter and grandson wasnt hard enough! Well, shed make sure this son-in-law didnt last long. Hed be gone before he knew it.
«Nan, can I go outside?»
«Go on, then! But dress properly. And stay away from the riverthe icell break any day now.»
«Alright, Nan!»
A car pulled up outside. Agatha squinted through the window. The new arrival was scarred from head to toe. What was her foolish daughter thinking? A prison guard *and* a frightful sight.
The door creaked open.
«Fionas brought her man home.»
«Just the fellow I wanted to see,» chuckled the local constable. «Need to check his release papers. And see what sort of man your daughters landed herself.»
«Off you gotheyre having lunch. But hes no son-in-law of mine, and he never will be.»
***
Agatha went to fetch her grandson. Not that he was hard to findhe was racing about with the other boys. Still, she wasnt keen on going home yet. She lingered, chatting with the neighbours. Like it or not, she had to face the music.
She eyed the massive logs near the shed. No way she could split those. She grabbed an axe and started chipping at the smallest one. Just as she swung again, a strong hand caught the handle.
«Aunt Agatha, let me try.»
«Go on, then,» she muttered, eyeing her son-in-law.
He ran a thumb along the blade and frowned. «Got a whetstone?»
«In the workshopmy late husbands things are still there.»
***
Harrison stepped inside, his eyes widening at the tools lining the walls. The grindstone still workedhe sharpened the axe, then picked up the splitting maul beside it.
Outside, he set to work, cleaving the logs in two before chopping them into firewood. By evening, every piece was stacked neatly in the shed.
Agatha watched, arms crossed. For the first time, something like a smile flickered across her face.
«Aunt Agatha,» Harrison said, pointing, «those logs by the fence»
«No good. Rotten through.»
«Come with meIve got one just like it. Maybe between the two, we can salvage something.»
They went to see old Henry, whose chainsaw was battered beyond repairexcept for the sprocket and chain, still in decent shape.
«Take it all,» Henry grinned. «If you get it running, you can cut my logs too.»
***
A neighbour leaned over the fence. «Listensplit mine too, and haul em to the shed.» He shoved two fifty-pound notes into Harrisons hand.
When the job was done, Harrison laid the money on the table. «Aunt Agatha, take this.»
She hesitated, then nodded, a rare satisfied glint in her eye. Cash was a rare sight in the villagebarter was the usual trade.
***
The next day, Harrison tinkered with the rotavator. Planting season was near. Then a boy came sprinting into the yard, wild-eyed.
«We were sliding on the icebut Jason got swept away! He couldnt jump back!»
Agatha and Fiona bolted for the river.
The ice floe carrying the boy drifted further from shore, midstream now. Worse yet, massive sheets of ice bore down from upstreamsomewhere, the jam had broken.
Fiona screamed.
But Harrison was already in the freezing water, swimming hard. He clawed onto the floe just as a crushing slab of ice loomed.
«Listen, Jase,» Harrison panted. «Youre a tough lad, yeah?»
«When that big one hits, we jump onto itor were done. One chance. Ready? *Now!*»
He hurled the boy onto the advancing ice, then hauled himself up, gasping as his leg scraped raw. Blood soaked his trouser leg. Jason stared at his own scraped palms, trembling.
The current quickened, dragging them toward the bend.
***
Onshore, the villagers watched in horror.
«Theyre done for,» someone muttered.
«Maybe not,» the constable said. «The river turns sharp up aheadand Harrisons no fool.»
Then he sprinted for his Land Rover.
Harrison held the shivering boy close. «Next test, lad. That floes going to smash into the bank. We move to the far side*now!*»
The impact sent them skidding across the ice, straight onto the pebbled shore.
«Alive!» Harrison hoisted the boy up.
«Arm hurts. Leg too.»
«Bahyoull live.»
«But youre bleeding!»
«Walk it off. Weve got to find the road.»
Jason sniffled. «Stings.»
«Quit whinging. Youre a bloke, arent you?»
***
Minutes later, the Land Rover skidded to a halt beside them. The constable jumped out.
«Still in one piece?» Harrison grinned weakly.
«Christ, you look rough. Get inhospital, now.»
***
Fiona sobbed on the bed. Agatha paced by the window. The phones ringtone made them both jump. Fiona snatched it up*Constable Davies* flashed on the screen.
«Are theyare they okay?» she cried.
«Jasons here, patched up proper. Hang on»
«Mum?»
«Sweetheart! Youre alright?»
«Course! Im tough, aint I?»
«See, Fiona?» the constable cut in. «All sorted.»
Agatha yanked the phone away. «Jimwhat about Harrison?»
«Getting stitched up. Hold onhes here.»
«You alright, Harry?» came the muffled reply.
«Right as rain.»
«Aunt Agatha,» the constable said, «Ill bring your lads home shortly.»
Agatha sagged with relief. She jerked her chin at Fiona. «Enough carrying on. Those menll be starvingdoubt theyve eaten all day. She wiped her hands on her apron and moved to the stove, stirring the pot of stew. Put the kettle on, she said. And fetch the good bread from the pantry. Fiona stared. The *good* bread? Agatha shrugged. Just do it. Outside, the first snow of winter began to fall, soft and steady, covering the rivers edge where the ice had broken.
