‘Look, I got to say something,’ said Prodd. ‘I heard tell of folk who want kids and can’t have ‘em, sometimes they just give up trying and take in somebody else’s. And sometimes, with a kid in the house, they turn right round and have one of their own after all.’
‘Ah,’ said Lone.
‘So what I mean is, we taken you in, didn’t we, and now look.’
Lone did not know what to say. ‘Ah’ seemed wrong.
‘We got a lot to thank you for, is what I mean, so we don’t want you to feel we’re turning you out.’
‘I already said.’
‘Good then.’ Prodd smiled. He had a lot of wrinkles on his face, mostly from smiling.
‘Good,’ said Lone. ‘About Jack.’ He nodded vehemently. ‘Good.’ He picked up the scythe. When he reached his windrow, he looked after Prodd. Walks slower than he used to, he thought.
Lone’s next conscious thought was, Well, that’s finished.
What’s finished? he asked himself.