Free Annie's Room by Amy Cross Page B

together, even if he doesn't say as much. As I settle and prepare to eat, however, I can tell that he's troubled this evening, to the point that he seems to have lost his appetite.
    I wait, hoping his mood will recover.
    “If you don't like the food,” I say finally, “I can -”
    “It's not the food.”
    “Well...” Pausing, I try to work out what I've done wrong. “Is it... If I've displeased you in any way, Father, I would rather know at once, so I can remedy my behavior. Mother never really taught me very much about managing the house, I suppose that's another of her failings but I'm sure I can learn if you just...”
    My voice trails off as I watch him close his eyes. Whatever's wrong, he's clearly very troubled indeed.
    “What is it?” I ask, getting to my feet and making my way around the table. Stopping behind Father, I put my hands on his shoulders, and immediately I can feel the tension. His muscles are rigid, especially on the right side, and I can't help wondering whether all his recent exertions have left him injured. I'm sure there are plenty of simple cures for such things, but I wouldn't know where to start. If only Mother had taught me properly, I'd be better placed to take over her duties. Still, I saw her massaging his neck and shoulders once or twice, so I start trying to do the same.
    “Go back to your seat,” he says after a moment, rubbing his face as if he's tired.
    “I know you didn't sleep well last night,” I tell him, keeping my hands on his shoulders. I'll go to my seat if he tells me again, but for now I would prefer to stay close, to maybe find a way to help him. “Was that my fault? Did I move too much during the night and keep you awake?”
    “It wasn't that.”
    “If you wish,” I continue, “you could strap me down so that I -”
    “It wasn't you,” he says again, with just a hint of irritation in his voice. Reaching up, he pushes my hands off his shoulders. “Quit doing that, girl, and quit talking so much. You're giving me a headache.”
    “I'm sorry,” I tell him. “I'm just... Mother really should have taught me what to do.”
    “I will go back to sleeping in the other room tonight,” he replies. “I think it might be best.”
    “But why?” I ask, shocked by the idea. In just a few nights, I have become accustomed to having Father next to me during the night. “Father, if I'm doing something wrong -”
    “You're not,” he replies, “I just...”
    He sighs.
    “Let me show you that I can be better,” I tell him, looking down at the back of his head. “Let me prove myself to you.”
    “Annie -”
    “You should be in my room,” I continue, trying not to sound too panic-stricken as I try to think of a solution. “People should sleep near each other, it's only right. I mean, for warmth if nothing else, but also for safety. Or... I could be in your room, I suppose.”
    “Your room is for you.”
    “It's for both of us,” I point out. “If you wish, we could add your name to the door and -”
    “I'm going to bed,” he says suddenly, getting to his feet and pushing past me. Stopping in the doorway, he glances back at me with tired, labored eyes. “I usually take a plate down to your mother after dinner, but tonight I'm too... You'll have to do it. No cutlery, she's not allowed that. God forbid that woman gets hold of a fork in her current state. Tell her I'll be down to talk to her in the morning. I think it's time we start thinking about bringing her back up.”
    “But you said -”
    “I think she's most likely learned her lesson by now.”
    “You can't be sure of that,” I reply, feeling for some reason a hint of concern at the thought of Mother returning. The truth is, I've rather liked having her out of the way, and the idea of bringing her back up feels like a defeat. “Don't rush things, Father.”
    “Take her some food,” he mutters, turning and heading out into the hallway and then up the stairs.
    Making my way to the door, I stop and