TWO SISTERS… Once upon a time there were two sisters. The eldest, Valerie, was beautiful, successf…

TWO SISTERS

Once upon a time, there are two sisters living in England. The elder, Grace, is admired by everyonebeautiful, prosperous, and wealthy. The younger, Molly, is the opposite: an embittered alcoholic. By the time of this story, at thirty-two, Molly looks more like an ancient crone than a young woman. Shes painfully thin, her face swollen and blue-tinged so her eyes can hardly be seen, and her dull hair, neglected for years, sticks out in greasy tufts.

Grace has done all she can for Molly, pouring both time and money into trying to rescue her from her addictionwhether its taking her to fancy rehab clinics or seeking out village healersnothing works. Grace buys Molly a comfortable little flat in Leeds, but keeps the ownership in her name, worried Molly will sell it for booze. Six months later, all thats left of the furnishings is a filthy mattress, where Molly lies dying when Grace comes to say goodbye. Grace is about to move permanently to Australia, her bags already packed. By then, Molly can barely speak; she only manages to half-open her swollen eyes and make out Graces silhouette against the grimy, never-washed window.

Empty cider bottles, shared liberally by local drunks, lie scattered about. Grace cant bring herself to abandon Mollyhow could she live with herself? Her conscience would haunt her. Hoping to ease her guilt, she decides to take Molly to their aunt Ruth, who lives in the countryside. The sisters hardly know Aunt Ruth, their late mothers older sister, who used to visit them years ago, always bringing country treats: crabapple jelly, fragrant apples, and jars of dried wild mushrooms.

All Grace remembers is the name of the villageRosewood. She thinks, They didnt invite us to her funeral, so Auntie Ruth must still be alive. Grace asks a male friend for help, wraps Molly in a blanket, settles her in the back of the car, and they drive out to Rosewood. The village is tinyjust four cottages. They find Aunt Ruths home easily. Molly, swaddled in her blanket, is laid on her aunts bed. Grace places a wad of £50 notes on the table. Shes dying, Aunt Ruth, and I have to go abroad. Its for the funeral, if she passesmaybe Ill be back someday, just to find her grave. Grace also hands over the key to Mollys flatwho else would she trust? She refuses a cup of tea and drives away.

Aunt Ruth, a sprightly 68-year-old widow, uncovers Molly, checks shes still breathing, and goes to light the kettle. While it boils, she slices up dried herbs from linen sacks, adds a handful of berries, and lets everything steep in a thermos. For three days, she feeds Molly herbal infusions laced with honey, carefully dripping them into her mouth with a teaspoon every half-houreven during the night.

On the fourth day, she starts adding warm milk from her own goat, Violet. Again, a spoonful at a time. Next is vegetable broth and homemade chicken stock. Ruth keeps a flock of seven hens, and doesnt feel bad sacrificing two to save her niece. After a month, Molly can sit up on her own. Ruth pulls her on a little sledge to the bathhouse (its winter), bundling her up in a thick woollen scarf and blanket. There, Ruth bathes her with herbal infusions. Afterwards, she brushes Mollys hair, leaving it fragrant and shiny.

Ruth pours all her patient, unspent love into her niece, saving her life, a teaspoon at a time. Fancy clinics and quacks couldnt cure Molly, but her aunt did. Gradually, Molly regains her strength, nourished by Violets clover-scented milk and delicate morning omelettes of fresh eggs. Her hair becomes silky and gleaming. Colour returns to her cheeks. They discover that, beneath it all, Molly is a beauty with sparkling blue eyes.

Slowly, she starts to help Ruth about the place, learning to milk Violet and gather eggs each morning. They cook simple food, almost everything grown in their own little garden. Molly, back from the brink, never looks back on her old lifeshe cherishes this new beginning. Every morning, she notices the sun rising, clouds drifting across the sky, and spring flowers blossoming in the hedgerows.

Down by the riverbank, a wild duck appears with her ducklings, and Molly brings them bread to feed. She discovers a surprising talent for crochet, taught to her by Aunt Ruth. Molly begins with doilies, and soon they go into town and buy stacks of colourful wool. Before long, shes crocheting lush, intricate shawls. Commissions flood in for her beautiful work, and Molly starts earning a tidy sum.

Three years later, stunningly transformed, Molly moves her beloved aunt Ruth from the remote village of Rosewood to a peaceful town by the warm southern coastBournemouthwhere, having pooled Ruths savings and her own, she buys a cosy cottage with a little garden. On a gentle morning, Violet the goatwhose journey in a special lorry was covered by Graceplucks another apple from the trees low branches, chewing as she gazes thoughtfully at the waves. In the sea, not far from the shore, two women she adores greet the morning with a swim.

And you know the most wonderful thing about this story? Its true.