To Catch a Rabbit by Helen Cadbury

Mackenzie?’ she said.
    He nodded. ‘Do you know him?’
    ‘Of course.’
    He followed her gaze out over the field.
    ‘You work here?’ he said and pictured her picking potatoes like her ancestors in the Polish countryside.
    ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I work here.’
    It seemed miles from anywhere and there was no sign of a car or even a bicycle. The tea was cooling in his mug but he felt reluctant to drink up and leave. The girl continued to watch him with incredibly green eyes, ringed with hazel. Her hair was bright red. He was no expert, but he guessed it was dyed. He drained the mug and handed it to her.
    ‘That was great. I’d better go.’
    ‘Okay,’ she shrugged.
    She was still staring at him as he walked back to the van and got in. He turned the engine over and put it in reverse, he didn’t fancy backing all the way down to the quarry road, so he pulled forward towards the trees in order to turn round. He shifted into reverse again and put his foot on the accelerator but the van didn’t move. A fountain of mud was being thrown up from the spinning front tyres.
    ‘Shit!’ The rear wheels were still on the stony track but the front wheels were on the soft, wet grass. He pulled the handbrake on and got out to take a look. The girl was coming over and he was relieved to see she wasn’t laughing at him.
    ‘You want I push?’ she said.
    She didn’t look strong enough.
    ‘Can you drive?’ he said, but she shook her head. ‘Maybe if I show you what to do, then I can push and you can put your foot on the pedals and steer.’
    ‘Is very dangerous. Through the trees is quarry side. Is very steep.’
    ‘You’ll be going backwards, so it’ll be okay.’
    It was about ten metres to the edge of the trees and he would be in front of the van. If it lurched forwards instead of backwards, he’d have to jump clear and hope she could stop it in time.
    She looked doubtful but came closer. He helped her up into the driver’s seat.
    ‘Put your left foot on the clutch, that’s that pedal, okay? Now I’m going to move the gear stick. That’s reverse; don’t change it, whatever you do. Keep your left foot down. Then put your right foot on the accelerator and bring your left foot up when I say go, but not before. Got it?’
    She nodded, her jaw clenched with concentration and he was distracted for a moment by the line of bone that traced her cheek. He would have liked to run his finger along it.
    ‘So?’ she said, ‘I’m ready.’
    He went to the front of the van and braced himself, hands above the radiator grille. He could see her through the windscreen, behind a reflection of spindly-armed trees and a cloudless sky, staring straight ahead as if she was preparing for a cavalry charge.
    ‘Ready and go!’
    The engine whirred and the mud sprayed in his face but as he put all his weight into the van it lurched back, stalled and stopped with all four wheels back on the track.
    ‘We did it!’ she called.
    ‘Yes, we did.’ He wiped a fleck of earth from his lip and went to help her down. She laughed at him, exhilarated by her success.
    ‘Is very powerful, to make an engine to go. I would like to drive, I think.’
    ‘You should learn.’
    She lifted her hand and he almost flinched, but then she wiped his cheek with her fingertips. He felt a pulse in his groin and tried to ignore it. She took his hand and jumped down.
    ‘I’ll be back this way later on,’ he said. ‘I’ve got another load of stuff to bring down, so if you need anything?’
    ‘Okay.’ she said. ‘Yes. Something to eat. I am so bored with cup of soup.’
    She asked for a sandwich and he promised he’d be back. The van rattled more than ever on the track and it was a relief to pull on to the smooth surface of the dual carriageway. He decided to risk the cassette player again and pulled a new tape out of the bag. He turned at the third roundabout on to the motorway and put his foot down as Jackie Wilson’s ‘I Get The Sweetest Feeling’