A Young Woman’s Journey

A young woman, cradling a little girl, stepped off the omnibus at the sign that read Willowmere Village of Willowmere.

Mary! cried a tearstreaked voice as her greyhaired grandmother, Mrs. Green, hurried forward, her white kerchief fluttering. Bring the child in, dear.

The villagers stared at the stranger, but Mrs. Green and Mary moved swiftly, a trunk in one hand, the child in the other, and did not look back. When they reached the cottage, the old woman slammed the gate and rushed inside.

Mary!

The grownup granddaughter sobbed at the kitchen table, clutching Lucy. Mary’s own tears fell unceasingly.

I’ve fled my husband, Grandma! she wailed.

What happened?

Hes a brute. He shouts vile things, orders me about, threatens to take my child. I cannot breathe in his presence, nor laugh. He only growls, leans on me, and I am exhausted.

Mrs. Green stared at her, frowning.

Three short years of marriage and its already crumbledsuch are the ways of men these days.

Mary lifted her head, wiping her face.

Grandma if you cannot understand me, I shall go away. I left my mothers house for the same reason; she scolds me, tells me to endure, says a foolish husband will not speak ill. How shall I live, if I am constantly suppressed?

The old ladys frown softened as she pulled Mary into a hug, smoothing her hair.

Stay, my dear. If you wish to go, I will not speak a word. You are all I have left, and this home shall be yours alone. My little girl, my beauty

***

Mary, once a city girl, had forgotten her London roots. Rumours swirled through the village that she had once married a notorious ruffian, a tale she herself inadvertently fed. She fled to her grandmothers cottage with a trunk and a baby to hide. Mary earned honest work delivering post, and her gentle spirit soon won the hearts of the locals.

At the Greens, they are all cheerful and kind. Ask for anything and theyll run to help. Lovely lot.

One afternoon, Mary sat in the garden with Lucy, pointing out berries. Dont be afraid, little one, you may pick and eat them. Heres a strawberry, red and sweet, and over there, blackcurrants.

Lucy, in a frock, tiptoed to the bushes and touched the berries.

A rustle in the hedgerow revealed a mischievous black and white spotted collie, ears perked, which barked at the mother and child.

A doggy, Mary laughed.

Soon a curlyhaired boy poked his head from the fence. Tom! a male voice called, and an elderly, silverhaired man approached. Good day.

Good day, Mary replied.

Tom, a bit older than Lucy, edged forward, clasped his small hands, and stared at the girl.

Mary called him over. Come here, lad. We have berries. And Lucy will gladly play with you.

The old man, Toms grandfather, leaned on the fence and spoke warmly to Mary.

I didnt know you had a Lucy. Our Tom wanders the yard alone, looking for friends. Fortunately we have a dog, Spot.

Mary beamed. Our Lucy feels lonely. Come into our garden, Tom!

Tom, eager, slipped through a gap in the fence, Spot bounding after him. The children became fast friends, their laughter echoing until dusk.

***

Toms father, a taciturn man named Ian, visited on weekends. He regarded Mary with a surprised, lingering gaze, and began courting her. He brought flowers, small gifts, and ferried her in his battered old Ford to the riverbank. Mrs. Green approved.

Oh, Mary, what a fine fellow. He left his wife, who ran off; he raised Tom alone, works hard, never drinks. He grew before my eyes, and now lives in the city because his job requires it.

Mary felt her affection blossom, yet fear gnawed at herwhat if her former husband discovered her? In the eyes of the law, John remained her husband.

She confessed her anxieties to Ian, who promised patience.

I will wait, Mary, as long as it takes. When the time comes, Ill bring you back to the city.

Youre a dear, she whispered.

One morning Ian asked, Im leaving tomorrow. Could you look after Tom? My father is old and frail; I fear he wont watch him properly. Taking Tom to the city is risky with his former wife prowling about.

Ill mind him, Mary assured, smiling. Travel safely, love.

Years slipped by. Mrs. Green grew weaker; Mary tended to her, feeding her with a spoon. Lucy went to school. No word came from John, and Mary settled into a new rhythm. Tom grew mischievous, often skipping school; his grandfather fell ill and stayed indoors. Mary shuttled between two cottages, caring for the elderly. Ian still visited on weekends, though less frequently, bringing homegrown vegetables in his battered boot.

Time moved on, and Mary escorted her grandmother on her final journey, feeling like a freeflying bird.

Lucy entered her teenage years, rebelling fiercely; Mary wept into her pillow. Tom became defiant, and Marys voice grew hoarse from shouting. Grandfather Green, now a silent figure, spent his days reclined on a sofa, a newspaper draped over him, while Mrs. Zahara, a neighbour, tended his porridge. Their gazes toward Mary grew cold, at times denying her entry.

Ians visits dwindled to once a month, arriving without gifts, his face lined with worry. Mary, you know I work. My mortgage takes all my wages; I cant even buy trousers for my son.

I understand, Ian. Keep healthy, dress for the weather, and well manage here.

His words warmed her, and he left feeling uplifted.

***

One afternoon Mary shouted into the yard, Lucy! Come here, you naughty thing!

What do you want? Lucy muttered, slouching on the steps.

Mary gestured toward the henhouse. Why, Lucy? I just stepped out for work and now this.

Whats the matter? the teenage girl snapped.

Dont you see? Marys voice trembled. Someone has broken into the henhouse. The chickens are gone, the fence is ripped, the whole garden is a mess.

Lucy rolled her eyes, I have lessons to study.

Mary, eyes swollen, whispered, Im sorry, love.

In the garden, the fence lay broken and the beds trampled.

Tom, I need to speak with you, Mary called, climbing through the hole. Tom stood tall, flanked by a friend, giggling. She paused at the dogs kennel and saw Spots muzzle dusted with feathers.

Whats this, Spot? Youve had enough? Tom sneered.

Your dog crushed my henhouse, Mary protested.

It wasnt Spot. Our chickens roam freely; Spot never touches them.

Mary stared, bewildered, at the boy who had once been a shy, curlyhaired child.

She often phoned her mother, who seemed a stranger.

Mary, what do you want? Im busy.

What are you busy with, Mother? Your new family? Your stepfathers health? Or some strangers grandchildren?

Theyre not strangers, Mary! If you keep speaking like that, forget you ever had a mother.

And I have no mother anyway.

Then stop calling.

The line clicked dead.

Mary bit her lip, anger rising. She saved enough money, slung a coat over her shoulders, and, in a sudden burst of resolve, boarded a bus back to the city to surprise Ian. She learned the address from Tom, knocked, and a young woman answered.

Yes, were the Carters. Im with Ian.

And you are? Mary asked, eyes narrowing.

The wife, of course.

The woman smiled smugly; Mary felt the urge to flee.

Ian arrived in the village, unbothered, and called Mary to talk.

Whats this fuss? I live with Jane now, whats the point of a grown man wandering?

You youre always busy with your farm.

Dont you dare speak to me like that! Mary began to sob.

Ian sneered, Enough, Mary. Ive had my fill of my first wifes drama. I must return to the city.

The gate slammed shut, echoing his final words.

***

Relations with the neighbours soured. The old grandfather, feigning deafness, argued with Mary, while Mrs. Zahara brought her greatgrandchildren to summer, who trampled the garden and feasted on the raspberries.

Lucy, pull your scarf tighter, Mary called.

Mother? Lucy answered, stepping out, hoping for a smile and a cup of tea.

Lucy, my head aches, turn the music down.

Your head always hurts, take a pill.

Lucy, we must pick the berries. The neighbours children will leave us none.

You pick them, I wont eat jam, Lucy replied.

Something within Mary cracked. She spent long hours at the window, silent. Sometimes she would repair the broken fence, tying it with rope, only for it to collapse again the next day, and she would rebuild it once more.

Ian stopped coming to Willowmere entirely. Tom, now finishing school, grew into a solid young man. Without Ians shadow, life seemed lighter; there was less need to tend the garden or endure a domineering husband.

Lucy, once withdrawn, began to cling to her mother, seeking comfort. The months slipped by until the end of term approached.

Mother, I need advice, Lucy said one evening, I feel sick in the mornings, weak, and every bite makes me gag. My moods swing wildly.

You should see a doctor, Mary replied, Youre not pregnant, so theres no reason for these ailments.

Lucy stared, I think I am pregnant.

Marys mouth fell open. What? You have no boyfriend!

Its a joke, Mum!

The doctors office later confirmed the truth: Tom was the father.

Tom? How could this happen? Lucy blurted, tears streaming.

Mary, heart breaking, pressed a hand to her cheek. Well get through this, love.

She knocked on the Carters gate, but no one answered. Only Mrs. Zahara peeked from a window, fist raised. Mary slipped back through the hole in the fence.

Tom! she called, spotting him with a friend, laughing.

Mrs. Green, youre bold, climbing over fences.

I need to speak with you. Send your friend home.

An elderly neighbour, Mr. Thompson, emerged, eyes flashing.

You think you can run your life like this, Mary? Youll pay for it.

He lunged, shouting, Youre a disgrace, you old Green!

Mary retreated, heart pounding, and fled the yard.

Later, in a dream, the late Mrs. Green whispered, Let it go, Mary.

Months later, Mary returned from a train journey with a gentleman shed met in the city. Lucy set aside her book and welcomed him.

Lucy, this is your father.

Father? Where did you find him?

Lucys eyes widened at the tall, kindly man. He examined her gently.

Youre grown now I dont know where to start. Mary, you stole my child, youll have to answer for it.

Life has already punished me, Leonard, Mary shrugged.

The whole village of Willowmere buzzed about Marys bandit husband, who indeed arrived with a massive guard dog, immediately turning it on Spot.

This is the dog he sent! I saw it from my window! shouted old Mr. Grayson.

No proof, someone muttered. Maybe theres a camera?

Spot was beaten badly, an ear torn off, and the guard dog of the Carters suffered a deep psychological wound, cowering in its kennel.

The Carters grandfather, frantic for his grandson, called the local constable, and when he finally saw Tom arrive in the bandits van, the boy leapt out with Lucy, dressed in a white gown.

Grandpa, were heading to town for dinner, dont lose us, Tom called.

The old man ran to the broken fence and shouted, Whats this? You said you didnt need Lucy!

Tom looked pale, I never said that!

A heated argument erupted, the Carters shouting, the Greens defending, voices rising like a storm.

Tom, cheeks flushed, later sat at a restaurant answering his new fatherinlaws questions.

Leonard, Lucys father, slumped in his chair, I thought you didnt want to marry.

No, I love Lucy, Tom replied, Id have gone to the registry at eighteen.

The old mans against it? Leonard asked.

Hes just a stubborn old man.

Mary intervened, Leave the boy alone.

The scene turned absurd, yet the wedding was arranged quickly after Lucys pregnancy was confirmed. Mary watched the young couple, shaking her head.

Will they manage? she thought.

Leonard, now a sturdy farmer, erected a new fence in Marys yard, a tall, handsome structure that cost a small fortune.

Now no Carters will trouble you, Mary.

He approached his former wife, running a hand through her hair. Will you come with me, Mary?

No, she replied, You have a wife.

He chuckled, Youre a fine woman, my daughters mother.

Two rivers cannot be crossed at once, Mary said.

He shrugged, If you stay, keep me posted; Ill be there in a heartbeat if trouble comes.

Lucy, now pregnant, asked, Mum, where did you find him?

I found him when I needed him. I was a foolish young girl, and he was the same. Im grateful I ran away, or he would have broken me. Weve become old acquaintances now.

Does that happen? Mary asked.

There are worse things in life, dear.

They sat on the porch, arms around each other.

Forgive me, Mother, for the pain I caused.

No harm done. I waited for you to understand. You are my Green, and the Greens are gentle.

If Pashka ever hurts you, Ill drive him out myself.

You try, Lucy. Were stronger together.

Ian rolled into town soon after Leonard left.

Mary! he banged on the door. Open up!

What do you want?

They say you married my son, Tom, without permission?

What permission? Mary scoffed. I raised your son; Im not a stranger.

Ive decided to take Tom to the city.

He wont leave his wife. Besides, your flat is a single room, and your girl would object.

Ians shoulders slumped. Im alone now.

Dont you think so? Few fools wait as I do.

Enough. Our grandchildren will soon be grown; we should unite.

No, Mary said, arms crossed. Never. You Carters have become accustomed to the Greens feelings. From now on, the son stays with us, and you must go.

He shouted, Dont be foolish, but the gate slammed shut with a deafening clang, sealing his fate.