A loud crash echoed from the next room. Tipping over a saucepan, Agatha rushed in. The boy stood frozen, staring at the shattered vase.
“What have you done?” the old landlady shrieked, whacking her grandson with a damp tea towel.
“Granny, Ill clean it up!” he stammered, darting toward the shards.
“Oh, Ill clean *you* up!” The towel came down again on the boys back. “Sit on the bed and dont move!”
She swept up the mess, then returned to the kitchen. A puddle sprawled across the floor, potatoes scattered in itthankfully still raw. She gathered them, rinsed them off, and shoved them into the oven. Sinking into a chair, she wiped her eyes, cursing her daughter silently:
*Why, why does everyone else have decent families? Not me. No husband of my own, and my daughters no better. Just when I think it cant get worse, she trots off to the train station in Manchester and brings home a prison guard as her latest “husband.” Three years of letters, she calls it lovenever even met the man! And now hell live under my roof. As if feeding her and the boy wasnt enough, now Ive got him to feed too. Well, Ill make sure this son-in-law doesnt stick around long. Hell run soon enough.*
“Granny, can I go outside?”
“Go on, then! But dress properly. And stay away from the riverthe ices breaking any day now.”
“Alright!”
Footsteps crunched outside. Agatha peered through the window. From here, the mans scarred face was plain as day. *Whats that daft girl playing at? A prison guard, and ugly to boot.*
The door creaked open. In they walkedFiona with her “fiancé” in tow.
“Ah, just the man I wanted,” smirked Constable Yates. “Need to check his release papers. And see what sort of fellow your new son-in-law is.”
“Go on, then! Theyre just having lunch. But hes *no* son-in-law of mine, and never will be.”
***
Agatha went to fetch her grandson. Not that she needed to look farthere he was, racing about with the other boys. Still, she dawdled, chatting with the neighbours. Like it or not, home called.
Her eyes fell on the massive logs stacked by the shed. *No splitting those by hand.* She grabbed an axe and began chipping at the smallest one. A strong hand caught the axe mid-swing.
“Aunt Agatha, let me try.”
“Have at it,” she grunted, eyeing her son-in-law.
He ran a thumb along the blade and frowned. “Got a whetstone?”
“In the workshop, out back. My husbands old things are still there.”
***
Harrison stepped inside, and his eyes widened. Tools, spare parts, everything. The grindstone still worked. He sharpened the axe, then snatched up the splitting maul beside it.
Outside, he cleaved the logs in two, then chopped them into firewood. By evening, every log was stacked neatly in the shed.
Agatha emerged, shaking her headthough a faint smile tugged at her lips.
“Aunt Agatha,” Harrison said, “those beams by the fence”
“Rotten. Useless.”
“Come with me. Ive got one just like it. Maybe we can salvage one good saw from the two.”
At old man Alfreds place, they found a battered chainsawworn out, but its sprocket and chain still good.
“Take it,” Alfred grinned. “If you get it running, you can saw up my logs too.”
***
A neighbour called out, “Listensplit mine too and haul em to the shed!” He shoved two fifty-pound notes into Harrisons hand.
Job done, Harrison laid the money on the table. “Aunt Agatha, take this.”
She stared, then cracked a rare smile. Cash was a rare sight in the villagebarter was the usual trade.
***
The next day, Harrison tinkered with the rotavator. Ploughing season was near. Then a boy came sprinting in, wild-eyed.
“We were sliding on the ice, andand your Oliver got swept away! He couldnt jump off!”
Agatha and Fiona bolted outside, all of them racing toward the river.
A chunk of ice carried the boy further from shore, the current dragging him toward the centre. Upstream, massive floes bore downsomewhere, the jam had broken.
Fiona screamed.
But Harrison was already in the frigid water, swimming hard. He hauled himself onto the ice just as a crushing mass loomed.
“Listen, Ollie,” Harrison crouched low. “Youre a proper lad, yeah? When that big one hits, we jump onto it. One shot. Ready? *Now!*”
He hurled the boy onto the advancing floe and leaped after, his leg scraping the edge. Blood soaked his trouser leg. Oliver gaped at his scraped palms.
The ice carried them into the rapids.
***
On the bank, horrified villagers watched them vanish.
“Theyre done for,” someone muttered.
“Maybe not,” Constable Yates mused. “River bends sharp ahead. Harrisons no fool.”
He sprinted to his Land Rover parked nearby.
Harrison hugged the shivering boy. “Next test, mate. That floe wont clear the bankitll smash straight in. Move to the far side!”
The impact flung them onto the pebbled shore.
“Alive!” Harrison scooped Oliver up.
“My arm hurts. And my leg.”
“Ah, youll live,” Harrison grinned. “Be right by your wedding day.”
“But its bleeding!”
“Tough it out. Weve got a walk ahead.”
Oliver rubbed his elbow. “Stings.”
“Quit whinging. Youre a man, arent you?”
***
Minutes later, they reached the road. The Land Rover skidded to a halt.
“Still in one piece?” Yates called.
Harrison nodded. “Barely.”
“You look like hell. Get inhospital, now.”
***
Fiona sobbed into her pillow. Agatha paced by the window. The phones ringtone made them both jump. Fiona grabbed it*Constable Yates* flashed on the screen.
“Whatwhat happened?” she cried.
“Olivers here, bandaged up but chirpy. Hang on”
“Mum?” Olivers voice crackled.
“Ollie, love, are you alright?”
“Course! Im not a baby!”
“See, Fiona? All fine,” Yates cut in.
Agatha snatched the phone. “Yateswhat about Harrison?”
“Getting stitched up. Waithes out.”
A pause, then Harrisons voice: “Sorted.”
“Aunt Agatha, hes grand,” Yates said. “Bringing both your lads home.”
Agatha sagged with relief, nudging Fiona. “Enough lying about. Theyll be starvingbet theyve not eaten since morning. She pulled the potatoes from the oven, already browning at the edges, and set the table without a word. The kettle began to sing, and she poured the tea strong. When the headlights finally cut through the dark window, she didnt run. She just wiped her hands, straightened her back, and opened the door before they could knock.
