A clatter rang out from the next room. Upsetting a saucepan, Agatha rushed toward the noise. A boy stood frozen, staring at the shattered vase.
«What have you done?» the woman shrieked, swinging a damp tea towel at her grandson.
«Nan, I’ll clean it up!» He scrambled for the shards.
«I’ll clean *you* up,» she muttered, bringing the towel down hard on his back. «Sit on the bed and dont move!»
She swept up the mess, returned to the kitchen, and found a puddle on the floor, potatoes scattered like lost marblesat least they were still raw. She gathered them, scrubbed them clean, and shoved them into the oven. Then she sat and wept, cursing her daughter silently:
*Why, why does everyone else have a normal family? But me? No husband of my own, and now my daughters gone and done the same. Just when I thought things might settle, off she goes to the train station, bringing home some prison guard to land on my head. Says hes a good one. Three years of letters, love blooming through inknever once laid eyes on him. And now hes moving in. As if feeding her and the boy wasnt enough, now Ive got *him* to feed. Well, Ill see to it he doesnt last long. Hell run off quick enough.*
«Nan, can I go outside?»
«Go on, then! But wrap up warm. And stay away from the riverthe icell break any day now.»
«Alright, Nan!»
A car rumbled outside. Agatha peered through the grimy window. The man stepping out was a patchwork of scars. *Whats that fool girl thinking? A prison guard and a face like a bad omen.*
The door creaked open. In they came.
«Fionas brought her beau,» someone muttered.
«Ah, just who I wanted to see,» smirked the local bobby. «Got his release papers to check. See what sort of man your new son-in-law is.»
«Go on then. Theyre just sitting down to lunch. But hes no son-in-law of mine. Never will be.»
***
Agatha went to fetch the boy. Not that he was hard to findcharging about with the other lads. But she dawdled, chatting with the neighbours. Like it or not, home called.
She eyed the huge logs stacked by the shed. *No splitting those.* Still, she grabbed the axe and started chipping at the smallest one.
A strong hand caught the axe mid-swing.
«Aunt Agatha, let me have a go.»
«Try, then,» she scowled at her new son-in-law.
He ran a thumb along the blade and shook his head. «Got a sharpening stone?»
«In the workshop. My husbands old things are still there.»
***
Harrison stepped inside, and his eyes widened. Tools, bits of machineryeverything but order. He flicked on the grindstone. It whirred to life. Soon, the axe was sharp, and he hefted the splitting maul beside it.
Outside, he split the logs clean in two, then quartered them with the axe. By dusk, every log was chopped and stacked in the shed.
Agatha emerged, arms crossed. A flicker of a smile escaped her.
«Aunt Agatha,» Harrison said, «those beams by the fence»
«No. Theyre done for.»
«Come with me. Ive got the same problem. Maybe two broken saws can make one working one.»
They visited old Bert, who had a chainsaw held together by rust and hopebut the sprocket was sound, and the chain still bit.
«Take it,» Bert grinned. «If it runs, you can cut my timber too.»
***
Then the neighbour piped up: «Listensplit mine too, and haul ’em to the shed.» He shoved two fifty-pound notes into Harrisons hand.
The job done, Harrison laid the money on the table. «Aunt Agatha, take this.»
She shook her head, but a pleased grin cracked through. Cash was rare in the villagefavours were the usual currency.
***
Next day, Harrison tinkered with the rotavator. Time to plough the gardens. Then a boy came sprinting, wild-eyed:
«We were sliding on the ice, and your Jeremy got swept awayhe cant jump off!»
Agatha and Fiona burst out, all of them racing for the river.
A slab of ice carried the boy further and further from shore. Upstream, massive floes bore downsomewhere, the jam had broken.
Fiona wailed.
But Harrison was already in the water, swimming hard. He hauled himself onto the ice. The crushing floe loomed.
«Listen, Jerry,» Harrison crouched low. «Youre a proper lad, yeah? When that big one comes, we jump. Or were flattened.»
They had seconds.
«Ready? *Now!*»
He hurled the boy onto the oncoming ice, then leaped after, smashing his leg on the edge. Blood seeped through his trouser leg. The boy stared at his scraped palms.
The current took them.
***
Onshore, the crowd watched the ice shrink downstream.
«Theyre done for,» someone muttered.
«Maybe not,» mused the bobby. «River bends sharp ahead. Harrisons no fool.»
He sprinted for his Land Rover.
Harrison hugged the shivering boy.
«Listen, son. One down. Next: that ice wont clear the headland. Well hit it hard. Move to the far side.»
The bank rushed closer.
*Crash.* They skidded across the ice, landing on gravel.
«Alive!» Harrison hoisted the boy up.
«Arm hurts. Leg too.»
«Bah! Gone by your wedding day.»
«But its bleeding.»
«Tough it out. Weve a walk ahead.»
The boy rubbed his elbow. «Hurts.»
«None of that. Youre a man.»
***
Minutes later, they reached the road. The Land Rover skidded to a halt.
«Still breathing?» Harrison nodded.
«You look rough. Get in. Hospital, now.»
***
Fiona sobbed on the bed. Agatha paced by the window. The phones ringtone jolted them.
«Bobbys calling!» Fiona snatched it up. «Whats happened?!»
«Jeremys here,» came the reply. «Plasters everywhere. Hold on»
«Mum?» the boys voice crackled.
«Sweetheart, are you alright?»
«Sfine, Mum. Im not a baby.»
«See, Fiona? Alls well,» the bobby cut in.
Agatha grabbed the phone. «Tom, Tomwhat about Harrison?»
«Getting stitched. Waithere he is.»
«Aunt Agatha,» Harrisons voice was tired but steady. «Were fine.»
The bobby took over. «Bringing your boys home soon.»
Agatha sagged with relief. She jerked her chin at Fiona.
«Enough lying about. Theyll be starvinglikely had nowt since morning. She filled the kettle, slammed potatoes into a pan, and pulled the burnt stew from the oven. «Set the table,» she said. «And fetch the good platesthe ones with the blue trim.» Fiona blinked. «The ones Mum gave you?» «Aye. Them.» Outside, the wind howled, but the fire crackled steady, and the house, for the first time in years, felt full.
