Jean and Frank took turns to sleep in the transom. Michael and Annie sat side by side in the double passenger seat. He ached to put his arm around her, take her head and all its sorrows on to his shoulder. In the end it was he who nodded off and slumped towards her, and woke when the lorry bumped over a railway crossing and knocked their skulls together. It broke them out of their gloom. Frank started singing the only song he knew. ‘One man went to mow …’ Annie joined in. They giggled and sang the rest of the way home. When they got back, Annie helped Michael to carry haynets and water buckets around the yard. While she was kissing Bandit good night, an idea occurred to him. ‘Why don’t you stay here?’ ‘Your mum said she’d drop me home.’ ‘No, I don’t mean tonight. I mean next week. When your mum’s away.’ She looked up at him. He could tell she wanted to. ‘What about your folks?’ ‘Oh, they’re cool. They like you. It won’t be a problem.’ ‘I might,’ she said.
