Annie's Promise by Margaret Graham

jigged in the breeze. Yes, she would try when she had more time but this week there were garments to make up, deliver, sell, there were the days to get through while Georgie was down beneath the ground they were standing on.
    ‘Varies each time you know,’ Tom said in her ear, his arm creeping round her waist, his finger pointing to the broken-down cart in the farm-yard beneath the hill, the tractorsplashing its colour on the scene, the slipped tiles on the farmhouse showing up dark.
    ‘You should know, you’ve painted it often enough.’ Annie’s voice was cold.
    His grip tightened. ‘Don’t be cross, bonny lass. He wanted it.’
    ‘You needn’t have talked them into taking him, you needn’t have vouched for him, wriggled him in.’ Annie shrugged herself away from him and stood, watching the children playing tag on the hill, hearing Tom coming up behind her again.
    ‘No, I didn’t have to, but it’s what he wants. Stop sulking, if the wind changes you’ll stay looking like that and it’s not a pretty sight, Annie Manon.’
    Annie turned now, gripping Tom’s arms. ‘I remember you being smashed up beneath coal, I remember the lads in the hospital. You’re a bunch of kids, all of you, just a bunch of stupid kids but without the sense of that lot down there.’
    They both turned and looked at their children and again Tom put his arm around her and this time she leant into him. ‘Remember us, Annie, at their age, always together, always up to something, always just managing to rescue the situation. If you don’t, I do. I remember how you always looked after me so d’you think I’d not make it as safe as I can for him if he’s set on it – and he is you know. I’ve put Frank on with him and he’ll have the good seams, the easy seams. I took him into the lamp room, down the shaft to try and put him off but he just breathed in the air and said “Ambrosia”. Trust me, and for God’s sake put a smile on your face.’
    Annie watched Sarah being chased by Davy, was she going to get back to the stump, was she? Yes, she’d made it and Annie kissed her brother’s cheek. ‘You’re a good boy, Tom Ryan, and my daughter can run faster than your son, just like her mother.’
    She grinned at Tom because he was right, she must smile, she must rise at five, pack Georgie’s bait tin, watch himleave, wait for his return, and smile, just like every other woman in Wassingham had always done and always would do. But more than that, she must work.
    Sarah and Davy sat panting on the stump while Rob blew on blades of grass, his cheeks straining with the effort, the sheep nearby moving away as he did so.
    ‘Just look at your mam run,’ Davy said, coughing and pointing.
    Sarah shaded her eyes, holding her throat as her breath rasped in and out, in and out, she nodded but couldn’t speak, not yet. She had beaten Davy but she’d thought her lungs would burst out of her while she did so.
    ‘She’s faster than you, Sarah,’ Rob said, then blew the grass again.
    ‘Not as fast as Da though, look at him go,’ Davy was standing now, laughing. ‘Look he’s almost caught her. Your dad’s chasing them now, and Mam.’
    ‘Blimey, it’ll be Bet next,’ Rob said, standing too, no longer whistling, just shaking his head. ‘Parents are embarrassing. I mean, they’re too old.’ He looked around. ‘No one can see them anyway or you lot would never hear the end of it. Doesn’t matter to me. They wouldn’t hear about it at the grammar.’
    Sarah laughed now, her breathing easier. ‘Unless we told them.’
    Rob turned on her. ‘Don’t you dare. Don’t you bloody dare, it’s going to be bad enough without that.’
    ‘You worried then?’ Davy was sitting on the ground now, flicking grass at a stone.
    ‘Course not, it’s just new, that’s all.’
    Rob walked off, up to the crest of the hill, his hands in his pockets, his head down.
    ‘Spect your da feels the same too,’ Davy said watching his brother, then the