The Young Lady

I watched a young woman step off the bus with a little girl clutched to her chest, pausing to read the sign that read Littleford, Village of Littleford.

Emily! a tearful voice called out. It was her grandmother, her hair a silver bun beneath a white headscarf. Give me Katie, love.

The villagers glanced at the strangers, but the old Mrs. Green, together with Mary, hurriedly carried the child and a suitcase straight to the cottage, never looking back. Once inside, the grandmother slammed the gate shut and rushed into the house.

Emily!

The grownup granddaughter sobbed at the kitchen table, hugging Katie tightly. Marys tears fell without end.

I ran away from my husband, Grandma!

What on earth?

Hes cruel, says the most awful things, orders me around. He threatened to take our daughter away. I cant breathe near him, cant laugh, only hear his constant grumbling Im exhausted.

The old Mrs. Green stared at her, frowning.

Only three years of marriage and its already fallen apartwhat a change of times.

Mary stopped crying, lifted her head and met the grandmothers eyes.

Grandma if you wont understand me, Ill go, Ill leave, love. I left my own mother because she never got me, kept shouting, bear it, a bad husband wont hurt you. But how do I live when Im being crushed?

Mrs. Green kept her frown but wrapped her arms around the girl, stroking her hair.

Stay then. I wont ask for anything more. All I have left is you by my side, and this house for you alone. My girl, my beauty

Mary, a city girl, had forgotten her hometown. Rumours swirled that shed once married a banditshe herself had let a slip of the tongue. Thats why she fled to her grandmothers village with a suitcase and a baby, seeking refuge. She held herself with dignity, found work delivering post, and quickly won the locals over with her good nature.

The Greens are all smiles and help, whatever you need theyre there, a neighbor remarked. Lovely.

In the garden, Mary showed Katie the berries. Dont be shy, love, you can pick and eat them. Heres a red strawberry, a yellow one, and over there blackcurrants.

The girl in her dress reached for the bushes. A patch of dock stirred, and a cheeky black dog with white spots lifted its ear, glanced at the mother and child, and barked.

Thats a dog, Mary laughed.

More rustling, and a curlyhaired boy appeared. Katie stared at him wideeyed.

Tom! a voice called, and an elderly man shuffled up the fence. Good day.

Good day, Mary replied.

Tom, the curly boy, gathered courage and stepped closer, grabbing his hands together as he looked at Katie, a few years older than her.

Come here, lad. Weve got berries. And Katie will love playing with you.

The boys grandfather smiled, leaning on the fence and speaking kindly to Mary.

I didnt know you had a Katie. Our Tom has no friends, wanders the yard alone. Luckily we have a dog, Spot.

Mary beamed.

Our Katies feeling lonely. Come over, Tom!

Tom didnt need a second invitation; he darted through the fence, the dog trailing behind. The children became fast friends, their laughter echoing until night fell.

Toms father, a quiet man named John, visited on weekends. He gave Mary lingering looks, never taking his eyes off her, bringing flowers and small gifts each time. He ferried her to the river in his old Ford, doting on the single mother.

Mrs. Green approved.

Oh Mary, what a good lad. He left his wife, who was unfaithful, took our son, raised Tom himself. Hes diligent, doesnt drink, works hard, lives in the city because his jobs there and hes got a flat.

Mary felt a flutter. She liked the man, but fear crept inwhat if her exhusband found her? Legally, he was still her husband. She confessed her worries to John, who promised to wait for her as long as needed and bring her to the city when the time came.

Im leaving tomorrow, John said, looking straight into her eyes. Watch over Tom. Im getting old, cant keep an eye on the lad. Taking him to the city would be risky, his exwife still circles around him, hoping for a claim.

Ill look after him, Mary replied, smiling. Travel safely, love, and dont worry.

Years passed slowly. Mrs. Green grew frail, and Mary tended to her, feeding her from a spoon; Katie started school. No word came from Marys former husband, and she finally settled into her new life. Tom grew into a mischievous teen, often skipping school, while his grandfather fell ill and stopped leaving the house.

Mary ran between two cottages, caring for the elderly. John still visited each weekend, brightening the days with rare trips, and Mary loaded his car with homegrown veg as a token of affection.

Later, Mary escorted her grandmother on her final journey and lived like a free bird.

Her teenage daughter, now full of rebellion, would vent at Mary, making her cry into her pillow. As for Tom, he was headstrong and often shouted back, leaving Marys voice hoarse from scolding. Meanwhile, the grandfather rested on the sofa, wrapped in a newspaper, while a new old lady, Mrs. Hart, moved in, feeding him porridge. Mrs. Green often frowned at Mary, sometimes even barred her from the house.

Johns visits grew sparse, then monthly, emptyhanded, his face creasing, his voice low.

You know I work, Mary. Mortgage eats my whole salary, I cant even buy trousers for the boy.

Mary understood.

I get it, love. Just take care of yourself, eat well, dress for the weather. Well manage here.

His warm words lifted his spirits, and he left feeling lighter.

One afternoon, Mary shouted across the yard, Katie! Come here, you little rascal!

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

Why did this happen? Mary gestured toward the chicken coop.

Whats wrong? the teenage daughter snapped.

Cant you see, Katie? Marys voice rose.

Katie pouted, walked closer, and sighed.

I dont know, Mum, I have lessons to study.

And what will we eat in winter? The chickens are gone, nothing left.

And why didnt you close the coop?

Did I close it, love?

I know, Mary rolled her eyes, tears streaming.

The garden was a mess: trampled beds, a gaping hole in the fence, the fence itself leaning.

Tom, I need to speak with you, Mary called, climbing through the hole. Tom stood tall with his friend, laughing. She paused by the dogs kennel, peering inside.

Looks like Spots snout is all fluffy. Hungry, Spot?

What are you on about, Aunt Mary? Tom sneered. Talking to dogs now?

The boys burst into laughter.

Tom, your dog knocked over my coop

It wasnt Spot, love. Our chickens roam free, never touched them.

Mary stared, bewildered, at the boy whod turned from a shy child into an indifferent teen.

Sometimes Mary phoned her own mother, who seemed a stranger.

Mary, speak quicker, Im busy.

What are you busy with, love? Your new family? Your stepdads health? Or my grandchildren?

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

Ive never had a mother, Mum

Then stop calling. Bye.

Mary bit her lip, angry, tears welling again. She finally gathered enough courage, shouted at her rebellious daughter, told her to watch the house, hopped on a bus and headed back to the city, wanting to surprise John. Shed learned the address from Tom, went straight from the station, knocked on a door.

Hello, were the Browns. Im with John.

And who are you to him? the woman asked, surprised.

His wife, of course.

She smiled smugly, Marys heart sank, and she turned to leave.

John arrived that weekend, called Mary out for a chat, saying, Whats this about you being a child? I live with Jane, why should I be lost?

What about me?

Youre always busy with your chores.

My dear, why are you treating me like this? Mary began to sob.

John grimaced, Enough, Mary. Im fed up with my first wifes drama. Go back to your life. Im heading back to the city.

Their neighbours relations soured. The grandfather whispered to Mary, pretending deafness, while Mrs. Hart brought grandchildren for summer, who tore down fences and trampled Marys beds, grazing in the overgrown raspberry patch.

Katie, tighten that scarf, Mary called.

What, Mum? Katie answered, finally smiling and offering tea.

Katie, my head aches, turn down the music.

Your head always aches, take a pill.

Katie, we need to pick raspberries. The neighbours kids will steal them.

Do it yourself, I dont eat jam.

Something cracked inside Mary. She lingered by the window, silent, occasionally fixing the broken fence the children kept toppling.

John stopped coming to Littleford. He had no reason; Tom was finishing school, and without John, life seemed easier for Mary. No more planting, no need for a man to stock up.

As Mary emerged from her gloom, Katie, now calmer, often came close, hugging her mother. It seemed the girl had simply grown up. With the school term ending, Katie confessed, Mum, I feel sick in the mornings, no strength, my stomach hurts after anything, my moods swing every minute.

You need a doctor. Youre not pregnant, so whats causing this? Mary asked, meeting her daughters anxious eyes.

Maybe I am.

Marys mouth opened in surprise.

Where did that come from? she asked.

You dont even have a boyfriend.

Are you joking?

They left the clinic, hand in hand.

Whos the father? the doctor asked.

Tom, of course, Katie blurted. I never imagined this could happen.

Mary wept, then steadied herself.

She knocked on the Browns gate; no one answered, only Mrs. Hart peered out, clenched a fist. Mary slipped back through the hole in her own fence.

Tom!

He stood in the yard with a friend, laughing. Mary approached the dogs kennel, peering inside.

Spots nose is all fluffy, huh? Full?

Whats this, Aunt Mary? Talking to dogs again? Tom snorted, the boys laughing.

The dog knocked over my coop

It wasnt Spot. Our chickens roam free, never touch them.

Mary stared, bewildered, at the boy whod become indifferent.

Occasionally, Mary called her own mother, who acted like a stranger.

Mary, speak quickly, Im busy.

What are you busy with, love? Your new family? Your stepdads health? Or my grandchildren?

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

Ive never had a mother, Mum

Then stop calling. Bye.

Mary bit her lip, angry, tears welling again. She finally gathered enough courage, shouted at her rebellious daughter, told her to watch the house, hopped on a bus and headed back to the city, wanting to surprise John. Shed learned the address from Tom, went straight from the station, knocked on a door.

Hello, were the Browns. Im with John.

And who are you to him? the woman asked, surprised.

His wife, of course.

She smiled smugly, Marys heart sank, and she turned to leave.

John arrived that weekend, called Mary out for a chat, saying, Whats this about you being a child? I live with Jane, why should I be lost?

What about me?

Youre always busy with your chores.

My dear, why are you treating me like this? Mary began to sob.

John grimaced, Enough, Mary. Im fed up with my first wifes drama. Go back to your life. Im heading back to the city.

Their neighbours relations soured. The grandfather whispered to Mary, pretending deafness, while Mrs. Hart brought grandchildren for summer, who tore down fences and trampled Marys beds, grazing in the overgrown raspberry patch.

Katie, tighten that scarf, Mary called.

What, Mum? Katie answered, finally smiling and offering tea.

Katie, my head aches, turn down the music.

Your head always aches, take a pill.

Katie, we need to pick raspberries. The neighbours kids will steal them.

Do it yourself, I dont eat jam.

Something cracked inside Mary. She lingered by the window, silent, occasionally fixing the broken fence the children kept toppling.

John stopped coming to Littleford. He had no reason; Tom was finishing school, and without John, life seemed easier for Mary. No more planting, no need for a man to stock up.

As Mary emerged from her gloom, Katie, now calmer, often came close, hugging her mother. It seemed the girl had simply grown up. With the school term ending, Katie confessed, Mum, I feel sick in the mornings, no strength, my stomach hurts after anything, my moods swing every minute.

You need a doctor. Youre not pregnant, so whats causing this? Mary asked, meeting her daughters anxious eyes.

Maybe I am.

Marys mouth opened in surprise.

Where did that come from? she asked.

You dont even have a boyfriend.

Are you joking?

They left the clinic, hand in hand.

Whos the father? the doctor asked.

Tom, of course, Katie blurted. I never imagined this could happen.

Mary wept, then steadied herself.

She knocked on the Browns gate; no one answered, only Mrs. Hart peered out, clenched a fist. Mary slipped back through the hole in her own fence.

Tom!

He stood in the yard with a friend, laughing. Mary approached the dogs kennel, peering inside.

Spots nose is all fluffy, huh? Full?

Whats this, Aunt Mary? Talking to dogs again? Tom snorted, the boys laughing.

The dog knocked over my coop

It wasnt Spot. Our chickens roam free, never touch them.

Mary stared, bewildered, at the boy whod become indifferent.

Eventually, the village of Littleford whispered about Marys bandit past. Rumours said shed brought a massive guard dog that set on the neighbors pooch, Spot.

It was him, I saw it from my window! shouted old Mr. Brown.

No proof, though. Maybe theres a camera?

Spot ended up with a missing ear, the dog of the Smiths suffered a mental blow, cowering in his kennel. Mr. Brown lost sleep, worrying about his grandson Tom, who hadnt returned from school. He called the constable, desperate for answers.

Then Tom emerged from a black van, the bandits vehicle, and opened the back door. Out hopped a woman in a white dress, hair neatly done.

Granddad, Katie and I are heading to the town for dinner, dont lose me, Tom called.

Mrs. Brown stared, What does this mean? You said you didnt want Katie!

Tom looked pale, I never said that!

Mrs. Brown shouted, Youre lying!

Mary intervened, Enough, Im not staying, the Smiths are fine.

The scene grew chaotic, the guard dog snarling, the neighbours dog whimpering.

Later, Tom sat in a restaurant, answering his new fatherinlaw, Leonard Hart, who complained, I thought you didnt want to marry.

No, I love Katie, Tom replied, Id have gone to the registry if I were eighteen.

Leonard scoffed, Your old man opposes?

Mary stepped in, Leave the boy alone.

Their wedding was hastily arranged after Katies pregnancy was confirmed. Mary watched, doubtful, but wished them well.

Will they get along? she wondered.

Leonard, now an older gentleman, walked past Marys fence, newly built, sturdy, no expense spared.

Mary, will you comeHe raised his glass, smiled at Mary, and said, Welcome home, lovethis is where you truly belong.