З життя
Who Do You Think You Are?
Let me tell you about Mary Foster and her long, winding life on the little farm beyond the hedgerows of Norfolk.
Whos there? Mary asked, stepping onto the front porch with her neighbour, Nick, and peering over the wooden rail. Im here for Mary Foster! a bright young voice called. Im her greatgranddaughter, actually. Im the granddaughter of Alex, Marys eldest son.
Mary was perched on the sunwarmed bench by the garden gate, soaking in the first warm days of spring. At last the season had turned, and only God knew how she had survived the bleak winter that had just passed.
Another winter I wont get through! she muttered, exhaling a sigh of relief. She wasnt afraid of the cold any longer. On the contrary, shed been waiting for this moment. The peas were finally in the field, and shed bought the new dress shed been saving for.
Nothing seemed to hold Mary Foster back now.
***
Once shed had a bustling household: her husband, Fred Whitaker, a tall, solid man, and four childrenthree boys and a little girl. They lived together in harmony, helped each other out, and only sparred now and then. One by one the children grew up and drifted off to their own corners of the country.
The two oldest sons went off to university and then spread themselves across the Midlands and the North, taking jobs wherever opportunity knocked. The middle son had struggled at school, but later struck gold with a successful ownbusiness that eventually took him abroad, and he never returned. Their daughter left the quiet village for London, soon married, and set up a life of her own.
At first the children visited often, wrote letters, and when mobile phones arrived they called regularly. Grandchildren arrived one after another. Mary would pull out the old, battered suitcase now and then and make a short trip to stay with a child or two as a sort of nanny.
Gradually the grandchildren grew up and out of Marys care. Calls became rarer, visits even rarer. The idea of dropping by for a cuppa was forgottenpeople were too busy with work, their own families, and the endless demands of modern life.
The only thing that finally brought the family back to the old farmhouse was the news that Freds father, old Mr. Whitaker, had passed away. Hed seemed a sturdy fellow whod have lived to a hundred, but fate had other plans.
After the funeral the children scattered again. At first they kept in touch with Mary, but the telephone rings dwindled to nothing.
Mary tried calling herself, but quickly realised the younger generation had moved on, and she stepped back. Thats how the last ten years wentevery now and then a child would remember her and ring, and Mary would spend a week smiling to herself, feeling the echo of their voices.
One bright afternoon she was again on the bench, lost in thought.
Good afternoon, Aunt Mary! a young man called from beyond the garden fence, beaming. Dont you remember me?
Mary squinted.
Nick! Youre not?
Yes, Aunt Mary! he shouted, rushing into the yard.
Nick was the son of the neighbours, the farmhands who could never go a day without a proper roast. Mary remembered him well; hed always been a hungry lad, always begging for a bit more porridge. Out of pity, shed often fed him, handed over the handmedowns, and let him stay the night when his parents were out at a village dance.
His parents didnt last long. They passed away, and Nick was taken away to an orphanage, then later to the army, and eventually to a school. He returned to his native countryside, determined to rebuild the little village that had raised him.
What are you going to rebuild? Mary waved a hand dismissively. Everyones gone.
Nothing, Nick replied, eyes bright. I wont disappear!
And so a new chapter began for Mary. Nick found work with Mr. Whitaker, the biggest farmer in the valley. In his spare time he patched up the crumbling cottage that had been left to him by his parents, and he never forgot Maryhelping her with the garden and the chores. She never called him son outright, but the affection was there. They spent three good years together.
Im off, Aunt Mary, Nick said one day, almost apologetically, Mr. Whitaker has gone off the rails. He wants us to work for free, yet refuses to pay. Im heading off to find better work. Dont be angry, alright?
Off you go, Nick, Mary replied, Godspeed!
Again Mary was left alone. At times the loneliness threatened to bring tears, and she passed the days waiting for the inevitable end. Yet something always kept her tethered to the world.
****
Good afternoon, Aunt Mary! a familiar voice called. Mary turned toward the fence and saw a face she recognized.
Nick! Is that really you?
Im here, Aunt Mary! a tall, welldressed young man announced as he stepped into the yard. Ive finally come backproperly!
My word, what joy! Mary exclaimed, flurrying about. Come in, come in, Nick! Ill put the kettle on at once!
The kettle sounds perfect, Nick laughed. Im just on my way home. I didnt expect to find you, and Ive not even brought any biscuits!
Half an hour later the two were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea from delicate, heirloom cups, words spilling over each other.
Im ready to go to the other side, Nick, Mary said, a tear glistening.
Dont even think of it! Nick teased, waving a finger. Ive just arrivednow well live together, Aunt Mary! Everyone will be jealous! Ive saved some money, and Im starting my own farm. Youll be with me forever, thats a promise!
Just then a clear, girlish voice rang out, breaking their reverie. Mary glanced out the window and saw a young woman in a short coat and highheeled shoes standing in the yard.
Is anyone home? the girl called.
Mary and Nick stepped onto the porch together and looked at the newcomer.
Im here for Mary Foster, the girl said. Im her greatgranddaughter, actuallyAlexs granddaughter, Marys eldest sons child.
The woman and the boy exchanged a quick smile.
I tried calling, but the line was dead, so I thought Id just come by on a whim!
Come in, love! Mary replied, a little flustered, while Nick hurried to grab her suitcase.
Mary, Nick and the girl, whose name was Poppy, sat down as she unpacked a small basket of treats and began to tell her story.
I dont like city life. I want to live in the countryside! My parents dont understand. My grandfather Alex suggested I stay here for a few months, saying that if I live in the village, Ill lose the urge to return to the city. He called you, and my dad called, and I called too, but we could never get through. Please, Im not going to be a burden. I have some savings, and my dad and granddad sent a little welcome package. Ill be studying parttime, and Ill leave when the terms over.
Stay as long as you like, Mary said at last, smiling. Youre welcome to any lengthjust make me happy.
A month slipped by. Mary watched from her bench as Poppy skilfully worked the garden, and you wouldnt have guessed shed come from the city!
With Nicks help, Poppy turned the longneglected plot into tidy beds, raised a small greenhouse, bought seedlings from the neighbours, and began planting with gusto.
Nick, meanwhile, used the money he earned to start building a modern farm on the edge of the village. He hired a few hands to repair Marys thatched roof and replace the old coal stove with a proper central heating system.
Marys face lit up. She smiled constantly, feeling again that she wasnt alone.
Only now and then a shade of sadness crossed her features, thinking of the day Poppy would return to the city. Shed grown fond of her greatgranddaughter. But time flew, and Poppy was planning her departure.
How will I manage the garden on my own, Poppy? Mary said, packing a parcel of scones for the road.
Dont forget the water barrel, Auntie. Nick will water the beds! Ill be back before you know it! Poppy replied with a grin.
Youll really come back? Mary asked, hopeful.
Of course! I cant leave you completely! Ive fallen in love with you, Auntie, with all my heart. And Nicks asked me to marry himan autumn wedding! What would I do without a husband? Hes a proper country lad!
A year later, Mary was basking in the sunshine, rocking a cradle with her sleeping greatgreatgrandson. Poppy and Nick were running the farm together, and their combined effort was turning the place into a thriving hub that benefited the whole village.
Watching the little bundle of joy snoozing peacefully, Mary thought:
Ill never be ready to go just yet. I still have so much to give to these children.
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