She could hear the wind screaming in from the north and soon she’d feel it. She drew her scarf round her neck, turned up her collar. Would it be a white Christmas? ‘You shouldn’t have come, pet, it’s too cold for you. Sarah’ll be here next week. I could have come by myself.’ Annie looked at his strong hands on the steering wheel. Oh no, he couldn’t come by himself because what if he fell, damaged his false leg, damaged his stump? He could die in this cold, but to tell him that was to admit his limitations and that she must never do. ‘The thing is, my darling, she can’t bear to give up music and she has to give up something.’ They were turning into Rowen’s Track and she felt Georgie turn to her, then to the front again, wrestling with the wheel as the car lurched on the rutted ice-cracked tracks. ‘Oh I see.’ She could tell from his voice that he did. ‘These few years have given her so much Georgie, not just success with Buttons but time with you. She’ll have shared memories.’ They were approaching the farm gate, Georgie stopped the car whilst she leapt out, the force of the wind stopping her, taking her breath.
