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"The grey one. The minute I have it fired up, you be there, got it?"Tamara gave her affirmation and waited. She watched Hannigan open the door and jump back. A shout sent him running back toward her. "Run! Up that way!"She followed him through the trees and up the steep hill behind the building, several minutes of running uphill had her quickly exhausted. Tamara stumbled, twisted her ankle, and cried out as she fell. Hannigan turned quickly, cursed, and helped her to her feet, bracing her with an arm under her shoulder. "Shit! Ok, this way!"They moved slower than he liked and he mumbled curses the entire time. Finally, they stopped near where a road cut around the edge of the mountain rising ahead of them. Tamara sat down and massaged her swelling ankle. Through her pain she asked, "what happened?" Guy sleeping in the car, pulled a gun when he saw me." Jesus." Yeah. Think we're ok, but we can't go back that way. No idea if he'd call the cops. Fuck! Hate leaving a mark like that. ”Annette prompted me. “Go on — what else did she call you?”“She called me ‘a little farmer’s boy with a little sickle’. She said she only wanted grown men with big scythes.”“Well, your little sickle has grown into a huge, wonderful, scythe, and she is the loser. What happened to her?”“An itinerant thatcher, Dennis by name, put her in the family way with his big scythe. She left Grantham for London, and was never heard of again.”“And what of the other love of your life, — Amy Fairfax — did she too berate you on account of the size of your sickle?”“She loved me as I loved her, and we became lovers.”“But you did not marry?”“She would not marry for love, but for position. She is now a Countess.”Annette got out of her armchair with feline grace and sat on my lap.She put her arms around my neck, and gave me a warm, embracing, comforting kiss, before gently drawing my head onto her breasts.“She was a fool — and probably regrets not having you in her bed at nights.”I lay there, my head.
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