Above the Harvest Moon by Rita Bradshaw

watching the father of the young family kicking a ball with his son, who couldn’t have been more than four or five, while his wife sat watching with a little baby on her knee. The man was in a suit and they looked well-to-do.
     
    ‘Do you ever think about leaving the pit and moving away, perhaps down south?’ She hadn’t meant to say it, it had just popped out as she watched the young husband.
     
    ‘What?’
     
    ‘Well, all this with the strike and everything and the pit being so dangerous, I just wondered if you’d thought about doing something else.’
     
    Adam stared at her as though she was talking double Dutch. ‘I’m a miner.’
     
    ‘I know. I just wondered . . .’
     
    He smiled. ‘You’re a funny little thing at times, you know that?’ And then his voice grew husky as he murmured,‘But bonny, so bonny. Aw, Hannah, you’ve no idea what you do to me.There’s not a lass in the country can hold a candle to you. I’m the luckiest man alive.’
     
    She melted when he said things like this. He kissed her again but when his hand slid under her coat and cupped her breast, she drew back quickly. ‘Don’t. Someone’ll see.’
     
    She watched his white even teeth drag at his lower lip for a moment, then his right shoulder moved upwards in a gesture that held irritation.‘We’ve been seeing each other over eight weeks now and I’m not made of wood.’
     
    ‘I know.’ She didn’t mind him touching her on the rare occasions they were alone, once or twice in his mam’s kitchen when everyone else had gone to bed and another time when he’d walked her home and stood in the darkness of the back alley. At least not much. At first it had just been a light touch on the outside of her clothes but the last time he’d tried to lift her jumper and his hands had been hard and insistent. She knew it was wrong. Her mam hadn’t told her much about the birds and the bees when she had started her monthlies two years ago, but she had been very clear that one thing led to another and that that had to be avoided at all costs. Quite what that entailed she wasn’t sure, but she knew it could lead to the worst fate that could befall a lass, that of having a baby without being wed.
     
    ‘I’m not going to do anything to hurt you.You know that, don’t you?’ Adam’s face had softened when he saw her distress.‘But I’ve been used to—’ He stopped, waving his hand as he said, ‘It doesn’t matter. But I know a thing or two. You wouldn’t have to worry, that’s what I’m saying.’
     
    She stared at him in silence, then moved her lips one over the other before she said, ‘I’m sorry.’ She didn’t want them to quarrel.
     
    ‘Aye, well, we’d better be getting back.’ And then, as she still looked at him with a troubled face, he smiled, drawing her into his arms again but this time just kissing the tip of her nose. ‘Don’t worry, I know you’re a nice lass. I wouldn’t be walking out with you otherwise, would I? We’ll take it slow if that’s what you want, all right?’ He kissed her again, warmly.
     
    Relieved, she kissed him back, and then as he drew her to her feet, she said again, but without really knowing why, ‘I’m sorry.’
     
    ‘It’ll be better once the strike’s over,’ he said, as though that had a bearing on the situation. ‘And you’ll love the Pally, they have some right good bands there on a Saturday night. By, some of the lads’ eyes’ll pop out of their heads when I walk in with you on my arm.’
     
    Her smile was more natural now. He was himself again. Everything was all right.
     
    ‘Aye, once the strike’s over we’ll paint the town red, lass. That’ll show ’em.’
     
    She wasn’t sure who it would show but she laughed anyway and they went home arm in arm.
     

Chapter 8
     
    Over the next weeks it became clear there was going to be no easy resolution to the lockout. And a lockout was what it was, in spite of most of the miners calling it a