Danny Boy by Anne Bennett Read Free Book Online Page B

of hours already, for it was a tidy tramp, and Danny told her the odd sheep often got into difficulties which they needed to sort out.
    Rosie didn’t envy them: the cold was intense. It was almost too cold to snow, though there had been a sprinkling in the night and this had since frozen solid and lay sparkling on the yard. Rosie rubbed her hands against the misty kitchen window and looked out. The world seemed hushed and still, the empty fields dressed with a covering of snow, and icicles hung like silver spears from the window’s edge.
    She turned with a shiver and Connie said, ‘Aye, it’s bonechilling cold, all right. They’ll all be glad of the stew I’ll have ready for them when they come in. Put new heart into them.’
    ‘Aye,’ Rosie said, rousing herself. ‘I’ll get some water in to wash the potatoes. They might be back soon.’
    ‘Are you all right, girl?’ Connie asked. ‘I can get it.’
    ‘Don’t fuss now!’ Rosie admonished. ‘I’ll not have you treat me like an invalid because I’m expecting.’
    ‘No danger of that,’ Connie said with a laugh. ‘You fetch in the water then, and I’ll make us a drink.’
    Rosie picked up the galvanised bucket from beside the door and went out into the wintry afternoon. The skies were heavy,grey and snow-laden, and the bitter chill caught in her throat and made her teeth ache. She wished she’d thought to lift her coat from the peg. As soon as Rosie stepped out onto the slippery cobblestones her feet began to slither. Gingerly, she made her way forward, but didn’t notice the sheet of ice that had formed around the pump where some of the water had dribbled out and frozen solid. As she stepped onto it she felt one leg slide from beneath her.
    In a panic, she fought to try and regain her balance, but as she did the other foot skimmed across the icy cobbles and she lost her footing completely. She fell awkwardly and clumsily, the bucket clattering beside her as her head slammed heavily against the ground.
    Connie was beside her in seconds. ‘Oh dear God!’ she cried. ‘Are you all right?’
    It was obvious Rosie was far from so. The very breath had been knocked from her body and she lay on the frozen yard and felt as if every bone had been shaken loose.
    Dear God, Connie thought, if Rosie was to lose this child before Danny even knew he was about to become a father! That would be dreadful altogether. But then, she chided herself, there was no need to look on the black side of things: the girl had had a fright, that was bad enough, and anyone would be in pain after falling in the yard. A hot drink and bed, that was best.
    She helped Rosie indoors, supporting much of her weight. The kettle had already begun to sing over the glowing turf and she sat her before the hearth.
    ‘You need tea with plenty of sugar to steady you after a shock like that,’ Connie said, pressing Rosie down gently in the armchair. ‘And then it’s bed for you.’
    She filled the teapot and while it brewed she lifted two air bricks from the back of the fire with tongs and wrapped them in flannels. ‘I’ll put these in the bed to warm it for you,’ she told Rosie as she hurried from the room.
    Rosie didn’t answer. She was feeling light-headed and muzzy, but her overriding fear was for the child she carried. She put her arm protectively on her stomach and groaned.
    Connie heard her as she came back in and her heart contracted in pity, but one of them at least had to stay positive. ‘Come on,’ she said, handing Rosie a cup of tea, which she’d also laced with a drop of whisky. ‘Drink this while it’s hot.’
    Rosie obediently took the drink, glad of its warmth for she felt chilled to the marrow, and Connie, aware of her trembling, gave the fire a poke to release some of the warmth. She wished Danny was there to fetch the doctor, for the whitefaced girl in front of her worried her half to death.
    Rosie was too weary and sore to undress herself, so Connie gently removed the