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She Almost Agreed to Sell Everything. But Then She Overheard the Truth Outside the Door…
She was almost ready to hand over everything. Then she heard the truth behind the door
What do you mean sell?! Sophie Andrews cried, bewildered, staring at her son. Where will I live? In the hallway? At the station? Have you decided to turn our home into a retirement home?
Mother, why are you starting this again Kevin sighed.
Do you want to offer me a washingmachine box? she snapped, voice higher. Have you lost your mind, Kevin?
Dont shout. Im just suggesting we discuss the options
Whats there to discuss? A house isnt a trinket you can pawn when times are hard! she snapped, pulling herself away from the table. I was born here, you grew up here. And you you want to put it up for sale!
At that moment the neighbour, Lydia Barnes, slipped in without a knock.
Sophie! Why are you sitting there like a statue? You promised youd plant all the beds this year. After last winter you nearly collapsed! Where are your garden plans?
Lydia, I tried, honestly Sophie lowered her gaze. The seedlings have just sprouted, and my hand wont lift to uproot them
Dont think about uprooting! I gave you Ians number a month ago, the farmer from Hawthorne. Hed plough the whole field for you and make it fruitful. Plant something useful, not just admire roses in your twilight years
Kevin said maybe his friends will come in summer. Barbecue, fire pit. And I have lilacs, roses
Those roses of yours! Lydia scoffed. In the last five years your son has visited three times. And always with a crate of beer, never a grill.
He works. Hes got plenty to do
Remember the winter when the snow blocked everything? No food, no medicine! Good thing I dropped by. And where was your busy son? You couldnt even get a call!
He always comes when I call
Sophie, youre like a childbelieving and waiting. Time slips by. You must think with your head, not your heart. You need beds, not rose bushes!
Maybe Ill finally make the beds. Where the lilacs have already fled
Exactly. And what news from your daughter?
Nothing new. Kevin chats now and thenbirthday, New Year thats it.
The less Kevin appears, the fewer worries. I dont mean to rush you, but things will only get quieter
Sophie Andrews lived in the hamlet of Briarfield, near York. Shed been alone for twenty years after her husband died on the motorway. Their first child, Emily, was sensible, learned early to wash and cook. Kevin arrived later, when Sophie was over forty, becoming her comfort. Fifteen years separated them. Different eras, different upbringings.
Emily left first.
Mother, I want to marry.
For whom? That Rory from the village? I wont allow it! He has no trade, no education, no culture!
This is my life, Mum. Im already eighteen.
Did you see his gut? Theres no soul in therejust fat!
Its not about looks; hes kind, smart. He got a job in the city.
And youll go with him? Leave me alone?
Ill study. Ill live.
Sophie wept, begged. Yet Emily, gathering a bundle, leapt out the window and vanished. No letters, no callsonly occasional rumours through acquaintances.
Kevin stayed long with his mother. He turned the garden into a leisure yard: a gazebo, swing, barbecue, lawn, flowers. No beds, no potatoes.
Mother, why do you need beds? A shop opened in Briarfield! Everythings therepotatoes, courgettes, greens. No need to bend your back.
Its our way to keep whats ours
That was once the way! Its the twentyfirst century now!
Sophie consented. She lived modestly, but cosy. Kevin brought food, medicine, took her to doctors. Then he met a girl, Marina, married her. Sophie accepted Marina, but their temperaments clashed. She never hid her disdain for country life, especially toward her motherinlaw.
During another visit Kevin, as always, embraced his mother, laid out groceries, sat down.
Mother, I want to talk. I have an idea Very profitable.
Business again?
Sophie, developers want to buy the land in Briarfield! Theyll build a little cottage town, full infrastructure. If we sell the house with the plot, we could buy a nice onebed flat in York and have startup capital left.
Wait what about me? Where will I live?
You could think of a retirement home or rent a flat. Not on the street!
You want to move me into a flat? From a yard where every stone is family? Are you mad? This is our family home!
Its just a house, old and awkward. As long as the price holds, we must sell.
Never! Sophie clenched her fists. As long as I breathe, the house stays. I wont put you in my will!
Kevin snapped up his keys and left without a goodbye.
Sophie stepped into the yard. A rosebush, halfbloomed, stood on the flowerbed. In one hand a spade, in the other an axe. She decided to turn the flowerbed into a garden but couldnt shift it.
Still stuck? Lydia called from beyond the fence.
No strength. Neither in my hands nor my soul.
Its too late! The seasons wasted. And Kevin may never return.
What would you advise?
Think clearly. Arrange everything rightyoull have a onebed flat in York, a clinic nearby, a shop, warmth, neighbours. Civilization.
Sophie lay awake all night, turning the thoughts over. At dawn she boarded a bus to York, to Kevins flat, to negotiate calmly.
She rose to the third floor, paused at the door.
From inside a voice shouted:
Vera, she wont sell! Stubborn as a bulldozer!
Then go be a porter! How am I to keep a business? Were on the brink and you whine! Let it rot in Briarfield!
Sophie froze, then with fury hammered the door.
Mother?! Kevin answered.
Thank you, son, for already burying me! Her voice trembled. I came to talk, to make peace. Now know this: I will never sell! Never! Id rather be buried than hand this over to your scheme!
Mother
Get out with your devil! Let her parents sell apartments! My house is not yours to touch!
Sophie turned and walked away. She spent the night at the station, returned home at first light. For three days she lay low, then gathered the axe, yet could not approach the rosebush.
In the morning someone knocked at the gate.
Whos there?
Its me, Mother. Emily.
Emily?! Sophie froze. My daughter
Mother, how are you?
Its her voice quivered.
Kevin called. He says youve gone mad, wont sell the house. I told him to go away. He thought youd already given up but Ive realized its time to return.
Child but we
When was that? I have three children now. And I understand you perfectly!
Children?
Two daughters and a son. And Rory is lean, sporty, working in tech.
And you?
Well come over the weekend. Ill bring food and everything you need. Were close now, Mother.
What about the beds?
You dont need beds anymore. Grandchildren will be your garden.
Sophie wept and embraced her daughter.
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