The biting wind cut through young Ethan as he hauled the fallen pine on his sled, his breath fogging the frigid air. Old Tom, the village woodsman, had told him to wait till darkno one would notice then.
“Ethan!” A familiar voice rang out. There she wassharp-eyed Lily, his classmate, cheeks flushed with cold.
“What dyou want?”
“Let me help.”
She shouldnt have the strength, but somehow, side by side, the load lightened.
“Wheres the little ones?” Lily asked, panting.
“Grans with em. Mums at work.”
“I came by with your homework. Door was locked. Alfie told me youd gone to the woodssaid you told em to stay put.”
“Had to lock it…”
“She still running off?”
“Aye. Keeps sayin shes goin back to London, to her mum.”
“Poor thing. Sufferin herself, makin you all suffer.”
Ethan just grunted.
They dragged the wood home, their boots crunching on frozen ground.
“Ta, Lily.”
“Dont mention it. Fetch the sawwell cut it quick.”
“Nah, Ill manage.”
“Oh, aye? Youll hack at it all night, or we do it proper?”
Together, they sawed the pine into neat logs. Through the window, little Alfie and toddler Rosie watched, noses pressed to the glass. Ethan hefted the axe, splitting the wood with practised blows. Lily gathered kindling as he worked.
Soon, the fire roared, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The chill lifted.
“Let me make you stew. Your Auntie Janell be knackered after work.”
“Nah, were fine,” Ethan muttered, embarrassed. “Granll cook.”
“Oh, no, no!” Alfie piped up. “Let Lily do it! Remember last time Gran made that slop? Threw in cabbage, peas, even Mums dill seedssaid it helps when Rosie wets the bed. Was rank!”
“Ill cook,” Lily said firmly. “Alfie, help.”
“Whos this?” A frail voice croaked from the corner. Gran shuffled forward, wrapped in shawls, her mind adrift.
“Move closer to the fire, Gran,” Ethan said gently.
“Still cold, Billy…”
“Its Ethan, Gran. Your grandson.”
“Oh? Wheres Billy, then?”
“Gone… Hell be back.”
“Whos she talkin about? Uncle Bill?” Lily whispered.
Ethan shrugged. He hated the subject. Billhis father, Mums husband. Left before winter, took everything. The pigs, slaughtered and packed. The cow, the only lifeline they hadeven the calf, Daisy. Mum begged him to leave the calf, at least.
Hed laughed. “What sort of man comes to his new woman empty-handed?”
Ethan had hated him from that moment. Half the storehouse emptied, potatoes gone, even the cutlery divided. And Mum just stood there, counting the spoons he took…
When Jane returned, the children were at the table by the lamp. Ethan read to Alfie, Rosie slept thumb-in-mouth, and Gran dozed by the stove.
“Mum,” Alfie whispered, “its proper warm now. Ethan got wood, and him and Lily chopped it. Lily made stewits lush. Rosies asleep. Gran tried runnin off twicewe caught her.”
Jane smiled faintly, ruffling Alfies hair.
“Ethan… you do too much.”
“Salright, Mum. Eatthe stews good.”
After supper, Jane mended clothes. A knock rattled the door.
“See who it is, love.”
A round-faced woman bundled in scarves burst in, bringing a gust of icy air.
“Blimey, freezin out there! Jane, luv, brought you some cracklin and a bit o lard.”
“Ta, Val, but you shouldnt”
“Rubbish! Got flour?”
“A bit.”
“Heretwo pints o milk, froze since winter, and some eggs. Well manage till spring. Then the garden… itll get easier. Dont fret over seed potatoesJohn said well spare some. And…” She whispered in Janes ear.
“Val, what if they find out?”
“Not a soul comes ere, do they? Our sows due any day. Itll be alright, Jane. Well manage.”
Two nights later, Val smuggled in a piglet no bigger than a mitten.
“You mad? What if they know?”
“They wont. Hed have diedthirteen in the litter. Took the strongest.”
Next morning, Jane was summoned to the farm office. The foremanBills old matecouldnt meet her eyes.
“Take a piglet from Val. Tell her… make it a good one. Or two, if you fancy.”
“Howll I feed em?”
“Youve milk now. Come April, the co-opll give you a heifer. Take it?”
“Aye.” Her lips were dry.
“Jane…” He stopped her at the door.
“What?”
“Forgive me.”
“For what?”
“For Bill. Never thought hed… well, a bit o funs one thing. But leavin the kids, his own mum… takin everything. Only just heard from the missus. Why didnt you say? Got spuds?”
“Some.”
“Right. Well bring firewood too.”
So Jane carried onwith the kids, with Gran, whose mind flickered like a dying candle.
Ethan shouldered too much. Lilyforemans daughterhelped where she could. Alfie, too, did his bit. They survived.
The piglet thrived. Then two more, tails curled, snouts rooting.
One evening, a neighbour called out.
“Jane, luv…”
“Aye, Mrs. Clark?”
“Let Ethan fix me roof, eh? Ill paygot cracklin from last autumn…”
“No ta. Wont have him workin for scraps. Were not starvin.”
“Just heard from me cousinsaw your Bill with that hussy o his. Laughin on their sled, they were. Dont care his kids are near starvin…”
“Who says were starvin?” Jane snapped, walking faster.
“Aye, aye. Not starvin, just blue with cold, the lot o you. Not like Bill took everything…”
Jane fled to the shed, sobbing. A scratch at the door.
“Mum? You alright?”
“Jane… Im a burden. When Im meself, I know… wearin you down.”
“What? Whatre you” She snatched the rope from Grans hands. “How could you? Whatve I done to you, Mum?”
They wept together, Grans tears tracing the weathered lines of her face.
“Come inside. Well make tarts tonight.”
“Aye, luv.”
By spring, Gran took to her bed, calling for her son.
“Val, I cant fetch him meself.”
“Ill tell John…”
Bill never came. Sent money for the funeral, muttered it through John.
The village judged him, of course. But what did he care? Left for that fiery Bess, didnt he? Jane was too meekmarried her fresh from the city, little orphan thing. Bess? Now *she* was a woman.
Hed thought the kidsd manage. Theyd grow, same as he had. Bess promised him more.
But Ethans turned back cut deep. The little ones barely remembered him.
They called him a monster. Maybe he was.
At the fresh grave, Bill knelt.
“Forgive me, Mum…”
“She already did, Bill. Came to erself at the end.”
Jane stood behind him.
“You… whyre you here?”
“Brought you food. Christian thing, aint it? Have a drink… remember her.”
Silence.
“Ill go. You… talk to her.”
“Will she hear?”
“Shell hear, Bill. A mothers heart… it just does.”
Jane turned away.
“Lifes like that, Bill. Gets you spun right round…”
