Free Annan Water by Kate Thompson

first.’
    ‘It’s good advice,’ said Frank. ‘I can’t help you, though. You can take a spin on her now, if you like. Or come and ride her at our place. Every day for a fortnight, if it suits you.’
    The man shook his head and walked away. Michael watched as, out of earshot, he entered into a long argument with his daughter. Eventually they came back and took Frank’s name and address. Frank winked slyly at Annie.
    Bandit, cheered on frantically by Annie, went clear in the first round. He went clear again in the jump-off, but hopelessly slowly. It wasn’t enough to get him in the money, but he collected a pink ribbon, which Michael gave to Annie.
    She couldn’t have been more thrilled if she had won it herself. ‘I’ll hang it on the cow’s horn,’ she said. ‘My first departure into pink.’
    ‘Do you want a red one instead?’ Michael asked her.
    ‘Not unless Bandit won it,’ she said.
    ‘That’ll be the day,’ said Michael.
    He let her ride Bandit back to the lorry.
    ‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘I mean, just look at me! I’m at a horse show, riding a horse. I just can’t believe it!’
    Michael was besieged by a series of vivid images. Annie jumping Bandit over cross-poles. Annie jumping in shows. Annie beside him in the yard, in the house, around the fire …
    His thought process stalled. He had been glacial for far too long. The sudden meltwaters threatened to carry his mind away on their tide.
    ‘You look great up there,’ was all he said. ‘You look the part.’
    The Menace was still lame. Jean had only one to go in the Open, and he was already off the lorry, getting warmed up. Michael and Annie got the others settled with their haynets and went into the little groom’s compartment. There were sandwiches and chocolate bars and flasks of sweet, milky coffee in there.
    ‘This is brilliant,’ said Annie. ‘You could live in here.’
    ‘You could, I suppose,’ said Michael, glancing at the bunk above the transom.
    ‘I could,’ said Annie. ‘Maybe I’ll rent it off you. How much?’
    Michael laughed, but something had happened. A shutter had fallen behind Annie’s eyes. She was miles away from him, as dark and distant as the first time he had seen her.
    ‘I’m not staying at home, anyway,’ she said. ‘Not once my dad comes home.’
    ‘Your dad?’ said Michael. ‘Why? Where is he?’
    Her right knee was suddenly in frantic motion. The heel of her black boot hammered on the frayed matting. She looked up at him. Ravens lurked in her dark eyes.
    ‘He’s in prison,’ she said. ‘I put him there.’
    Michael couldn’t believe he could come down so quickly. Even the sky seemed to be collapsing outside the open door, as the mist and the night fell together.
    ‘Why?’ he said. ‘What did he do?’
    Annie didn’t answer. She was so far gone from him that he needed her name to call her back.
    ‘Annie?’
    She looked up, hard still.
    ‘Are you OK?’ he said.
    She shrugged. Her knee had stopped jerking. She sighed, softened a bit. ‘I’m supposed to go down there for a couple of days next week with my mum. Counsellors and all that crap. I’ve been there. Done that. No way am I going again.’
    ‘Maybe you should go?’ said Michael. ‘Tell them how you feel.’
    She shook her head. ‘I want him to come back. He’s promised to look after Mum. She wants him back so I don’t have to be tied down because of her MS. She thinks if he comes back I’ll forgive him and we’ll all be a happy family again. I won’t, though. I’ll never forgive him.’
    Michael’s head was full of questions that he didn’t feel he could ask. How long had he been in prison? What had he done to her?
    ‘Will you really leave?’ is what he said.
    Annie nodded. ‘I won’t set foot in the house once he comes back. Never.’
    ‘Where will you go?’
    ‘I dunno. Out of Scotland, anyway.’
    The mist seemed to be pushing in through the door, but Michael couldn’t seem to find the will to close