The hammering at the door grew more and more insistent as I padded through the back room and into the hall, water dripping on the bare concrete floor. It was Phil Braithwaite, red-faced, a triangular patch of sweat on his t-shirt. He was an odd shade of grey and something in his eyes liquidised my insides. `There’s been an accident, at pit. Chance your Rob’s involved. I’ve come to get yer.’ He gestured to the red Ford Escort parked opposite and continued to speak, though I didn’t hear the words. `I’ll need to turn oven off,’ I said, waving him in. I staggered through the house to the garden, boneless. Mining was dangerous, everyone knew it. Dirty, risky work, even now. If it wasn’t the cause of Dad’s illness, it finished him off. But I’d never thought it would affect me again. Rob. There was an invincible quality to Rob, though he wasn’t tough. Not in the way that the Braithwaite brothers were. He seemed to have a protective shield, like those children in the Ready Brek adverts; it’s what attracted me to him, this glow. I’d never considered, not for one moment, that Rob would ever get hurt. I couldn’t believe it; not even now. The boys knew something was very wrong; they followed me without a protest, cry or word, to Phil’s car. `Chance your Rob’s involved.’ The words ricocheted round my head. So there’s a chance he might not be. `Is your mam at bakery? Can we drop lads there?’ Phil said, as the car screeched down the road. `Pit’s no place for them.’ `No.’ I agreed. Someone must have brought the news to Mum because she was waiting outside when we pulled up, face fixed with her cheeriest smile. `Ey up, lovelies. Look what Nana’s got for you.’ She waved a bag of goodies, crouched down, gathered all three boys in her arms and hugged them, nodding at me over Mark’s shoulder, wordlessly telling me not to worry about them, to get myself down to the pit. Back in Phil’s car, with the children dispatched, I found my voice. `What happened? What about Rob’s mum and dad? Have they been told? Are you sure it’s him?’ The questions poured out of me. `Steady on, Mandy. I don’t know owt meself. Other than there’s been an explosion, at coal face, some of men are out already. Me Dad’s down there an’ all. Was in same shaft as your Rob.’ `Jesus, Phil, I’m sorry.’ We drove the rest of the short journey in silence, the car heavy with the smell of fear.