Anna by Sammy H.K. Smith

Author:Sammy H.K. Smith [Smith, Sammy H.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing Ltd
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The following two days rolled into one, and Sunday, usually my one day a week to spend away from everything and everyone, was instead crowded with rowdy celebrations, screaming and cheering children and raucous laughter. The main street in the town was alive with people – over three hundred – and I sat at the children’s table, with Alan to my left colouring in and drawing. Groups formed and split away; the early twenty-somethings sat by the cider barrels playing cards; the builders kicked a football around further down the road, while the off-duty Enforcers stood by the food tables and systematically made their way through the piles of pies, sandwiches, cakes and salads. Old Tom sat on a deck chair at the end of the road, sleeping in the sun with his filthy hat covering his eyes and the top of his nose.

Since the trial I avoided the Henleys as much as I could. I didn’t want to speak to Roger. He wasn’t the man I thought he was.

A long extension cord stretched from my table to a generator behind a block of garages and a stereo blared out a compilation CD of old songs, reminding me of my teenage years spent in the middle of a field, staring up at the sky and laughing with friends. Sipping my water I eyed the cider, and patted my bump: not long.

“Kate?” I looked down at Alan, who had stopped drawing and was holding his hands together on his pad. He stared gravely back at me, his big brown eyes wide and his mouth smeared with jam.

“Yes?”

“Is that really a baby in your tummy?”

I tried not to smile. He was so serious all the time.

“It is.”

He nodded, picking up his felt tips and drawing again. He fastidiously coloured within the lines of the pad and replaced the lids to his pens with care when he changed colours.

“That’s very good.”

“It’s okay.”

I struggled to think of something more to say and instead we both remained quiet. I went back to watching the townspeople. It was just gone two p.m. and the handful of elderly churchgoers walked out of the vicarage and made their way to the party. The young vicar trailed behind, stopping to talk to everyone who smiled and waved to him. He scanned the crowd and made eye contact with me. I dropped my gaze and watched Alan again who had discarded the colouring and moved back to drawing.

“What are you drawing now?”

“Me and you,” he replied, cocking his head to one side, sticking his tongue out and concentrating on the pad. I watched as he coloured my brown hair on the page. I was alarmingly round, but I was smiling and holding what I presumed was his hand. He was smiling too.

“You look happy in that picture, Alan.” I pointed to his grin and smiled at him, ruffling his hair.

“It’s because you and me are going home and we are going to bake a cake and then read and I’ll make you some hot chocolate.

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