The Little Apple

Apple of My Eye

“Youre just like your mother!”

“In what way, Grandma?” Katie found herself raising her shoulders defensively, then checked herself. Who was she protecting herself from?

“You always have your own mind! She never listened to anyone, and youre no different!”

“What am I supposed to be hearing?”

“Me! You ought to listen to me! And show respect! Im older and know more about life, is that clear?”

Katie stared in astonishment at the slightly dishevelled, flushed woman wagging her finger under her nose.

How odd! Who gave her the right to demand everyone listen to her? She appeared one day, and she wont be brushed away.

Katie flexed her fingers as if they held a fatty eraser; if only she could tidy up this day! Take away some shadows here, brighten it there She wished for nothing gloomy. She never did care for quarrels or shouts. Her mother never spoke to her this way. Mum always insisted that decent people knew how to listen, truly listen.

“Open your ears, Katie-love, and pay close attention! Like little rabbits! Do you know why rabbits listen so well? Because the fox walks ever so quietly. If the rabbit gets distracted and isnt careful, the fox might gobble him up!”

“Dont!” little Katie would draw close to her mum, gazing up in fear.

“Exactly, lets not! Thats why rabbits are clever. They listen so keenly and run so fastno fox will catch them!”

It was all so long ago. Katie had nearly grown up, but remembered every story and lesson her mother ever shared.

Strange when Katie was smaller, she thought Mum exaggerated or muddled things. Now though, she realised her mother had been absolutely right.

Take Grandma for instance. Katie hadnt met her until last year. Shed lived with Mum in a little seaside town on the southern coast. She went to nursery, bickered with Molly and Lucy, made up and dashed away for ices on the pebbly promenade. Then came school, Peter, first kisses on the shingle at sunset.

And Mum was with her then

Katie habitually squeezed the fat, fake turquoise bead on her bracelet, the one her mother made.

“Fake, perhaps. But look how pretty it is! Do you know, sweetheart, true things can sometimes be bitter and difficult and never warm you, however you turn them. But replacements can be lovely all the same.”

“Hows that?”

“Well, tell me, why was it you and Molly had that falling out last month?”

“She said we were poorbecause you didnt buy me real branded trainers, but fakes. She insisted she knew what the real ones looked like.”

“She was quite right. Uncle Rupert made your trainers. But no one ever said they were branded, did they?”

“No.”

“But theyre good leather, and made with love. You know Uncle Rupert wouldnt have it otherwise. Do you like your trainers?”

“I do!”

“Then what difference does it make? Things like labelspeople only invented them to seem superior. See, I have this special thing and you dontso Im better! But is that really true? Really right?”

“No.”

“Exactly! Its the inside that counts, not the label on the outside. Some folk care for tags and brands, and others are happy with what they have. I promise youthose happy with their lot are richer by far than those who measure all by labels.”

Katie had pondered it deeply. She even managed to clean the floors in both her own and her mums room while thinking. At last, she went to the kitchen where Mum stirred her favourite apricot jam.

“Mum, does that make Molly not my best friend after all? Shell say nice things and then, wham, she says something nasty. But Im certain she liked my trainers. She just didnt say so.”

“How do you know?”

“Lucy told me. Said Molly threw a tantrum at her mum wanting even better trainers than mine.”

“Oh, Katie!” Her mum, Irene, put down her wooden spoon and hugged her. “Dont judge too harshly. Shes still as much a child as you are”

“Im not a child, Mum!”

Katie wriggled free, head up, eyes blazingthough Irene knew she was cross with herself for thinking poorly of her mate.

“Youll always be my little one,” Irene said gently. “Yours and Mollys mums will always see their children as little ones. Is that so bad? My mums been gone for ages, and I wish every day I could be little againso someone would comfort me But theres no one left.”

Irene frowned a bit and kissed Katies hair.

“Never mind! We were talking about you and Molly. Give her time, Katie. Just remember how she carried you home after you tumbled from the swings? I saw her frightshe was more worried for you than herself. She grazed her knees as she jumped after you, and cried so much the nurse at the surgery nearly gave her an injection too, for company. Remember?”

“Yes”

“Or when she gave you her new felt tips her dad brought back? Just handed them over, because you were ill and I wouldnt let her in. She wanted you to draw her the finest picture, to hang on the wall until you were better. Remember?”

“I do”

“So all this about trainersits nonsense! Youll all be grown before you realise how empty those concerns are. Just dont lose what you have before then.”

“Shes already been round.”

“Why?”

“To make up. She asked me to forgive her.”

“And did you?”

“I told her I didnt want to see her and that were not poor!”

“Were you cross?”

“Very!”

“And now?”

“Still, but not so much”

“Wait till your anger wears itself out, then forgive her. If you go now, you wont let go of the grudge, and you might fall out for good.”

Oh, how Katie missed her mother now She would have known what to say, what to doespecially now, with Grandma around.

Grandma turned up out of the blue.

Katie had no idea Mum was unwell, nor that shed reconnected with her old mother-in-law and asked her to visit.

“Well, Irene! Never thought Id see the day!” The plump, sweaty woman closed the garden gate behind her and leant back, gasping. “Absolutely stifling! Ill never get used to this heat!”

“Hello, Mary!” Mum replied, her voice oddly pitched.

“Is this Katie?” Mary looked Katie up and down, sighing. “Not a chip off the old block, is she sure shes Alexs daughter?”

“Some things never change,” Mum replied with a laugh, and Katie relaxed a little inside. Perhaps things wouldnt be so dreadful.

Katie didnt much care for Grandma. Loud, fretful, meddlesomeshe brought commotion, rushing about with little real purpose.

“State of things as ever! Cant you keep order, Irene?! Youve a child! A girl no less! Shell never make a wife at this rateher husband will throw her out the first day, and rightly so!”

Why didnt Mum answer? Shed just smile faintly as strange Mary charged about, laying down her standards, but never objected or interfered.

The cats, used to lolling where they pleased, slunk away, and Grey, the dog Uncle Rupert had given Katie, wandered outside and lay beneath the arbour with a discontented growl whenever Marys voice hit fever pitch.

“The dogs the only sensible creature in this house! Knows theres no place for him indoors! Animals belong outside!”

The cats, hearing the dreaded mop and seeing Mary advancing, bolted for safety.

That was the first time Katie really stood her ground. She caught her favourite cat, Crumpet, and marched him under her arm to her room, shutting the door.

“Whats this now?!” Marys shout roused Grey to bark in the garden.

“Im keeping her with me!” Katie turned lazily, fixing her grandmother with a stare. “The cats are staying inside. And so is Grey! They were here long before you. Order, you say? Then mind itthis is our home, and you are just our guest.”

Mum gasped, hand over mouthnever had she heard her daughter speak to an elder that way.

But Mary wasnt offended at all. She narrowed her eyes, smirked, and announced, “Stubbornness runs in the family, I see. Not bad! Apple doesnt fall far, Irene! You could have raised her better, mind!”

She left the cats alone after that, shooing them a bit but never throwing them out.

But then everything changed. Events sped along so swiftly that Katie felt as if she could see the old clock hands whirling on the dresser, desperate to make them stop.

Why was time hurrying by? Why? Mum was so young, and so needed! This was just not right.

But time is no respecter of wishes. It marches on, minute by minute, hope fading with each tick.

Doctors, medicines, the hospital

Irene slipped away on a fresh spring morning.

The night before, Katie had flung the windows open, letting the sea breeze wash through after the long winter.

“Mum, your cherry tree will blossom soon. See, any day now!”

“Ill try, Katie-love I want so much to see it,” Mum had whispered.

When Katie heard her mother was gone, she broke the branch that reached to Mums bedroom window. Why should it grow if there was no one left to watch it bloom?

Mary didnt stand on ceremony. She scooped her into a mighty hug, pulled out a handkerchief more the size of a tea-towel, and ordered,

“Go on! Cry it out, shout if you must! Let it all out. You couldnt have done anything, darling We all have our time”

How did she know just what to say? Katie blamed herself. Mum worked too hard, rested too littlefor her sake. She wanted Katie to go to college, get an education

And Katie? Off adventuring with Peter and the girls, ignoring her books, barely scraping her marks by. She tried to catch up, but Mum never got to know. She didnt want to trouble her.

Mary only gave Katie the letter from her mother on the fortieth day.

“Here. Nows the time. Read carefully. Your Mum left you her words.”

“Whys the envelope been opened?” Katie turned the plain, unmarked letter over in her hands, seeing only her name in Mums handwriting.

“Who do you think I am? I may be a dragon but Id never read someone elses letter.” Mary shook her head. “Go on, off you go. Ive cleaning to do! Come help if you want, Im busy.”

She was hurt, Katie realised, as Mary turned away. Not cross, for oncejust stung, hiding her face and closing the door. Katie pressed her forehead to the doorway scarred by old pencil marksher Mum used to chart her height here.

“My, Katie, look how you’ve grown! Such a big girl now!”

Her mothers voice was so clear that Katie flinched.

Grown ha! If only she were cleverer more thoughtful.

She shut her bedroom door, sat cross-legged on the floor, the envelope on her lap, reluctant to open it. There was so much unsaid, so many answers shed never receive now.

The envelope was wriggling, stuffed with sheets covered in familiar neat handwriting, torn from a gridded notebook. Katie hugged Crumpet and began to read.

“Katie, stop those tears right now! Youre strong, love. Life is beautiful and so full of wondertreasure it! Dont waste precious time mourning what cannot be. Youll say our time together was too short. But I say, we were given so much more than you think! But you cant know that yet Let me tell you everything. You deserve to knowthis is your story.

Lets start when I met your father. He was remarkable. The moment I saw him, I was in love. My friends laughedBut hes ginger! How could you?they didnt see that he was sunshine itself, and just as warm. You take after him, though you dont look like him. Only the freckles, eyes, and noseeverything else is mine. When you were born, he studied you, wishing youd have his mums curlsyour Grandma Mary.

Shes a good woman, Katiedont take her bluntness to heart. Shes always been boisterous, a little rough, but steadfast and kind at her core.

Youll wonder why you never met her until now. That, love, is my fault. I was young, foolish, too slow to understand her. Forgive me.

Your father and I were happyuntil he found another love. That happens, Katie.

It wasnt that he stopped loving us. He just met someone who became his world.

Youll ask, what happened to the world we had? Well, it vanished. I loved him more than he loved me, I think. He stayed for your sake, but when love goes, it cant return. When he met her, he couldnt keep lying. He was always honest.

I see it now, but then, it hurt so much I could hardly breathe. And then Mary came bursting in.

Now I know she meant to set her son straight and save our family. But she started in with her Wheres the order here? and I snapped. We said dreadful thingspetty, cruel, things Im ashamed of. She shouted, accusing me. I shouted back, blaming her and your father. I blurted out that you werent her grandchild

Oh, Katie, how foolish I was! Mistakes are made in a moment, and they take so long to mend.

If only Id remembered how, when I was pregnant, the doctors feared youd not make it, and she dropped everything to help. She brought me food every day, put my flat in perfect orderso much so that I couldnt find my things! She only went home once sure wed be alright.

I didnt know then that shed met your fathers new love, tried to reason with her, even nearly cursed her, claiming shed never accept her. And yet, she didshe even loved their children as much as she would have loved you. Yes, Katie, you have a half-brother and sister. If you wish, Mary will introduce you. We agreed on this. Its hard to be alone, and the more kin you have, the better. That will make me rest easier, if you understand.

Think on it.

Now, about what comes next. Katie, study hard! I want you to have choicesbut promise me, make your own way. Dont let anyone push you into anything. Remember what we talked about? About which path suits you, how youve such talent, my love. Make use of it! Not everyone gets such gifts. If fate has been generous to youdont waste it. It wont be easy, but Mary will help you. I left you some savingsnot much, but enough for a year or two. Youve earned before; your painted bags and pictures always sold to tourists. Youll fare even better in Londonor even Brighton, perhaps. Dont let go of your dream, let it come true! I promise that someday Ill watch your exhibition from wherever I am. Ill be so proud, even if you cant see me.

I love you, Katie. I fear for you, but trust youll managemy bright, strong girl.

Now, dry your tears!

Mum.”

Katie set the letter aside, head bowed, tears running unchecked. Mum said not to cry

Crumpet was curled on the rug, twitching in his sleep, but Katie sat, lost in thought about what was next.

The answer came in the shape of Mary, poking her head in, flicking the light.

“Up you get! Enough sitting about in the half-light. Ill pour tea, and then well talk. Theres work to do, not tears to shed!”

Mary didnt take to Katies “artistic endeavours”. She railed, insisting that a sensible joblike accountancywould serve her better, but Katie would not be swayed. Mary, exasperated, called her a stubborn mule, just like her motheralways refusing to admit that one word could destroy warmth and kindness for years.

“All that silence! Never a note, never a word! And I looked everywhere, you know! Put out requests here and there! How was I meant to know your mum changed your name and made up a new surname? Not even her maiden name, but something new! How on earth did she manage that?”

“Uncle Rupert helped her.”

“Ill have words with himrobbed me of my hope to find you. Hell get what-for from me next time!”

“Dont! Hes a good man. Helped us for years. He asked Mum to marry him, you know.”

“And she?”

“Wouldnt have itsaid she loved Dad. I never knew Dad was alive! If Id known, Id have begged her to try again.”

“What a thing,” Mary sniffed, dropping a plate in front of Katie. “Eat! And think about what I told you! What kind of job is an artist anyway? Now, accountingthats work! Secure and steady!”

“Grandma! Not in front of others!”

“And why not? If you can handle other peoples money, youll one day have your own!”

“No. Its not for meyou see that, dont you?”

“I doubt it!”

“I dont mean to offend you! You must seeI want to do what I love. Mum said youre holding my money? In a month, Ill be eighteen. Give it me, and Ill go. No more bother, Ill be on my own from then!”

Mary was outraged, her infamous wagging finger at the ready, but changed her mind about arguing further. She studied Katie, grinned suddenly, and folded three fingers together in a gesture children know well.

“There! See that? Ill come with you! And make sure you become a real artist. I promised your mother not to leave youso hush now!”

Mary grumbled, pushed the plate closer.

“Eat up, I said! Its all cold anyway!”

And years later, in a small private gallery in Londona strange little group wander the rooms.

A ruddy-haired, energetic woman, a tall, clumsy young man in stylish glasses, and Katie herself, now cradling her little son.

“Well? What do you think?” Katie cant help but ask, though shes sworn not to, wanting her verdict from the one whod practically dragged her by the hand to this day.

Mary glances at Katie, sniffs, takes the little one from her, wipes his nose, settles him on her shoulder, and only then nods:

“Very well! The frames are smart, and it all looks proper. But the way you go through paint Lord save us! Katie! They might be smaller, though, yes? And will you sort your studio? Ive seen it this morningits a tip! Jim!” she barks at the youth with the glasses. “And you! What do you do about it?”

“What do you mean, Mary?”

“Shes got bags under her eyesterrible! Not getting enough sleep. Right! Im taking Samuel tonight! You rest and get yourselves sortedcome visit after. Understood? Right, then, were off! Arent we, little one?”

And as she shuffles past Katie, Mary pauses, strokes her cheek, and whispers,

“Your mother would be so proud of you, girl. I am too. You know that, dont you? Thats my apple my very own apple of my eye.”