Tatiana Ivanovna Sat in Her Cold Little Cottage, Where the Musty Smell of Dampness Lingered, Long Neglected Yet Still Familiar

Maggie Ellis was huddled in her chilly little cottage on the edge of Yorkshire, the air thick with that old damp smell you get when nobody’s bothered to tidy up for ages. It was her own place, the walls familiar, but all her energy went into worrying and she couldnt even decide where to start. Her heart felt tight from the hurt, the tears had run dry after a long day of sobbing. Maybe the walls will mend me, she thought, hoping time would smooth things over.

She sat in a coat and a warm hat, hands and feet still icy, and rested her head on the kitchen table, letting the memories drift by. The thing she loved most was her daughter, Ethel. From birth Ethel had been a frail little thing, and Maggies husband used to mutter, You shouldnt have had a child, you stay up at night, popping pills, youd be better off with a healthy baby! It was a nightmare Ethel barely made it to term, and at fortytwo Maggie finally gave birth, after losing two babies earlier in the pregnancy. She stopped hoping for any more happiness.

Soon enough the husband packed up and moved to the next village, found a new wife who already had a son, and never wanted to hear about his sick daughter again. Ethel grew stronger each year, prettier too, and Maggie barely noticed the girl turning into a woman. The farm work was honest but hard, and running the house alone was a battle. Ethel helped where she could, but without a man it was still tough in the countryside. When Maggies motherinlaw finally moved in, the house was bursting at the seams. A widower knocked on the door once, hoping for a second chance, but Maggie turned him down it felt shameful to bring a new man into Ethels life when shed already given her all for her daughter.

Ethel finished school, met a decent bloke, fell in love and got married. Two years later they had a baby girl, Lucy. Ethel didnt want to be stuck at home, and the mortgage was still coming due, so she begged her mum:

Come live with us, Mum. Itd cheer us up, and youd have company now the old grans gone.

Maggie answered, Ive got a cow, an old cat, a garden how could I leave my home?

Sell the cow, it hardly gives milk anyway. The neighbour, Mrs. Noreen, will take the cat. Well be waiting for you in a week! Ethel pleaded. Maggie couldnt say no to her own blood. The neighbour took the cow and cat, and promised to look after the house. So Maggie packed her few belongings and moved to the nearest town.

Ethel and her husband worked late, but Maggie still got to walk with Lucy, feed her, and even manage a quick dinner. Lucy looked just like her grandmother, and the two of them were inseparable, barely ever falling ill.

When Lucy turned four, Ethel sent her to nursery, thinking the little one needed to mingle with other kids. After that, the atmosphere at home shifted. The soninlaw, ever critical, kept complaining. Ethel started arguing with her husband, blaming the pressure from her mother. The grandma was doted on, and the little one grew a bit cheeky. One afternoon, Ethels husband snapped:

Youre not needed here, Mum. Go back home. Lucys in nursery, the mortgages paid, the twobed flat is cramped enough for us. Itll be better for you alone.

Maggie felt like shed been punched in the gut. She didnt expect her own daughter to say something like that. She gathered a few things, caught the bus, and tried not to burst into tears. Lucy clung to her, begging to go for a walk, but the soninlaw just dropped her off at the bus station, didnt even say goodbye.

Outside it started to rain, the chill deepening. As she stood there, a voice called out, rough but familiar. It was Mrs. Noreen, the neighbour, popping her head in the doorway.

Oh, Maggie! I thought someone was trying to swindle the place. Come on, dear, get up. My Nicky is frying pancakes, we havent seen each other in ages.

She practically hauled Maggie inside, chatting away:

My grandkids are in school, doing brilliantly. Your cow gave us a heifer this year well keep her at the farm. Look at her, lovely, cant let her go. You can have her if you like.

The kids ran over, the catMousiewas brought in, curling around Maggies legs, purring like shed never left. A warm tear rolled down her cheek, not from sorrow but from relief. The house buzzed with laughter, stories of the village, and no one asked why shed come back or gave her a hard time.

After dinner, Noreens son said, Our house is big enough for you, Aunt Maggie. Stay as long as you like, we wont let you go. Ill fix the roof, bring in firewood, tidy the stove, clear the chimney. If you ever want to move back, youre welcome, and if you like it here, you can stay for good.

The thin old woman smiled, feeling a warmth in her heart she hadnt felt in years. Life in Willowbrook had a way of pulling you back home.