The Resistance

mustn’t stop fighting.’
    The auburn-haired woman frowned. ‘No, I won’t,’ she said forcefully. ‘I’ve got my rights. We’ve all got rights and we need to stand up for them, not let these people get away with it. I got a leaflet the other day, pushed through my door, saying we’re stealing energy from countries in Africa . . .’
    Anna felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Perhaps now might be a good time to go?’ the soothing voice said, and Anna looked up to see a kind face framed by grey hair, pulled into a chignon.
    ‘Yes,’ she said, pulling the pram back awkwardly. ‘Yes, I think you’re right.’
    She pushed through the crowd, doing her best to avoid sending the wheels over anyone’s feet; the grey-haired woman followed her.
    ‘What a lovely little boy he is,’ she said, a few moments later. ‘How old is he?’
    Anna started. No one had ever asked her how old Ben was; it was as if age had ceased to mean anything, even when it could be counted in months.
    ‘He’s nearly one,’ she said warily.
    ‘What a lovely age. And he’s so well behaved.’
    ‘Yes, I suppose he is.’ Anna’s only knowledge of babies had been gleaned from the Smalls’ floor at Grange Hall where the under-fives were left to scream until one of the staff couldn’t take the noise any more and reluctantly came to feed or change them. It was partly the memory of those scenes of horror that prompted her to lavish so much attention on Ben, to rush to his side at the first hint of a cry.
    ‘It’s Anna, isn’t it?’ the woman said suddenly. ‘You’re Anna Covey, aren’t you? I wonder, would you like a cup of tea? I only live around the corner. I’m rather an admirer of yours, I must confess. My name is Maria. Maria Whittaker.’
    She held out her hand and Anna took it uncertainly.
    ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘I should probably get back to my shopping.’
    ‘Of course,’ Maria said kindly. ‘Then perhaps I could walk with you?’
    Anna nodded gratefully. She didn’t usually seek company, apart from Peter and Ben’s; other people made her feel anxious, on her guard. But this woman seemed so nice, and after the run-in with the horrible auburn-haired lady, she welcomed the companionship. Together they made their way back through the high street, silent at first, until Anna couldn’t stop herself from asking the question on the tip of her tongue.
    ‘You . . . you said you were an admirer?’ She looked around hesitantly as she spoke, looking out for cameras, for police, for anyone who might be following her. But the street was clear.
    The woman laughed. ‘I have always admired the young,’ she said softly. ‘And when I heard your story, well, it touched me. You sounded very brave. You and your friend, Peter. And to look after your brother like that . . . I think it takes a great deal of courage, and, yes, I admire that. I admire it greatly.’
    Anna smiled awkwardly. Other than from Peter, she didn’t hear kind words very often.
    ‘It wasn’t very courageous,’ she said quickly. ‘Peter was the brave one, not me.’
    ‘I’m sure you were brave too,’ Maria said warmly.
    Anna found a little smile creeping on to her face. ‘You know,’ she said, as they turned a corner, ‘I might be able to have one cup of tea. If that would be OK.’
    Maria returned her smile. ‘It would be more than OK. It would be a privilege.’
    Maria lived in a modern apartment building just a few minutes’ walk from the high street. Her apartment was on the fourth floor, so they left the pram downstairs and Anna carried Ben up the winding staircase.
    ‘I’m so sorry about this. I’m afraid that the lift was decommissioned as part of an energy-saving exercise,’ she said, with a rueful smile. ‘It’s a nightmare with shopping too.’
    ‘Oh, it’s no problem,’ Anna assured her, pulling Ben to her and holding the banister carefully as she climbed.
    ‘So, do you take sugar?’ Maria asked when she’d opened the door to her apartment, revealing a small sitting room with a kitchen area just off it and a narrow corridor which Anna presumed led to the bedroom.
    ‘Yes. Yes, please,’ Anna said. ‘Just one.’
    She followed Maria into the sitting room and stood next to a sofa as Maria walked over to the small kitchenette in the corner and put on the kettle. On the mantelpiece were photos of children, and Anna stared at them curiously, looking away quickly when Maria handed her a steaming cup