“Who are you here for?” Margaret Wilson stepped onto the porch with Nicholas, both eyeing the unexpected visitor. “Im here for Margaret Wilson! Im her granddaughterwell, great-granddaughter, actually. The granddaughter of Anthony, her eldest son.”
Margaret sat on the sunlit bench, soaking in the first warm days of spring. At last, winter had passed. Only God knew how shed made it through this one.
“One more winter like that, and I wont last,” she thought, exhaling in relief. She wasnt afraid of death anymore. In fact, shed been waiting for it. Shed saved up her pennies, bought her funeral clothes. Nothing tied her to this world now.
***
Once, shed had a big familyher husband, Frederick Wilson, a tall, sturdy man, and four children: three boys and a girl. Theyd lived happily, helping one another, hardly ever arguing. One by one, the children grew up and scattered like leaves in the wind.
The two eldest sons went off to university, then settled in different cities for work. The middle boy had struggled in school, but hed built a successful business that eventually took him abroad, where he stayed. Her daughter hadnt lingered in the village eithershed flown off to London and married soon after.
At first, the children visited often. They wrote letters, and when mobile phones became common, they called. Grandchildren came one after another. Every now and then, Margaret would dust off her old, battered suitcase and travel to one of her childrens homes to help with the little ones.
Slowly, even the grandchildren outgrew her care. The calls became fewer, the invitations rare. The thought of visiting their childhood home seemed to slip their mindstoo busy with work, their own families, their own growing children.
The last time theyd all gathered was for Fredericks funeral. Hed seemed so strong, like hed live to a hundred. But life had other plans.
After burying their father, the children went their separate ways. At first, they called their mother, but bit by bit, even that faded.
Margaret tried calling them herself but quickly sensed she was an afterthought. So shed lived the last ten years alone. Once a year, one of them might remember her, and that phone call would keep her smiling for a week.
One afternoon, as Margaret sat on her bench lost in thought, a young mans voice startled her.
“Afternoon, Aunt Margaret!” He stood at the garden gate, grinning. “Dont you remember me?”
Margaret squinted.
“Nicholas? Is that really you?”
“Yes, Aunt Margaret!” He stepped into the yard, beaming.
Nicholas was the son of the neighbors, a couple who couldnt go a day without a drink. For as long as Margaret could recall, hed been a perpetually hungry child. Out of pity, shed fed him, given him hand-me-downs from her own children, and let him sleep over when his parents were too drunk.
His parents hadnt lasted long with that life. When they passed, Nicholas was taken away, and Margaret hadnt seen him sincethough shed missed him terribly.
“Whereve you been all this time, lad?” she asked, her face lighting up.
“Foster care at first, then I joined the army, then went to college. Now Im backready to rebuild my hometown!”
“Rebuild what?” Margaret waved a hand. “Everyones gone.”
“Doesnt matter! Well manage!”
And just like that, Margarets life changed. Nicholas got a job with Mr. Thompson, the biggest farmer in the village. In his free time, he patched up his parents old cottage and helped Margaret with chores. She brightened up, calling him nothing but “my boy.”
They lived like that for three happy years.
“Ive got to go, Aunt Margaret,” Nicholas said one day, looking sheepish. “Mr. Thompsons turned rottenwants us to work for nothing. Im off to find better pay. Dont be cross with me!”
“Cross? Never, lad! Go with Gods blessing.”
And so Margaret was alone again. Sometimes, the loneliness made her want to weep. She passed her days waiting for the end, though something still kept her here.
***
“Afternoon, Aunt Margaret!” A familiar voice snapped her from her thoughts.
She turned to the gate, eyes widening. “Nicholas? Is it really you?”
“Its me!” A tall, well-dressed young man stepped into her yard. “Im backfor good!”
“Oh, what joy!” Margaret fussed. “Come in, come in! Ill put the kettle on!”
“Tea sounds perfect!” He chuckled. “Ill just nip home firstdidnt know Id find you, forgot the gifts!”
Half an hour later, Margaret and Nicholas sat at the table, sipping tea from her best china, talking nonstop.
“Id nearly packed my bags for the next world, you know,” Margaret admitted, wiping a tear.
“Dont even think it!” Nicholas wagged a finger playfully. “Now that Im back, were going to live properlymake everyone jealous! Ive saved up, going to start my own farm. Youre not going anywhere!”
“Hello? Anyone home?” A bright voice interrupted them. Margaret peered out the window to see a young woman in a short coat and heels standing in the yard.
“Who are you here for?” Margaret and Nicholas stepped onto the porch.
“Im here for Margaret Wilson! Im her great-granddaughtergranddaughter of Anthony, her eldest son.”
Margaret and Nicholas exchanged glances.
“I tried calling, but your phone was off! So I took a chance and came anyway!”
“Well, come in then!” Margaret flustered, while Nicholas hurried to take the girls suitcase.
Margaret and Nicholas watched as VictoriaVicky for shorthappily devoured the treats set before her, chatting away.
“I hate the city. I want to live in the countryside! But my parents dont get it. Grandad Anthony suggested I stay here a few monthssaid if I tried village life, Id lose the urge to go back. He called you. So did Dad. And me. But we couldnt get through. Sorry about that! I wont be a burdenIve got money! And I brought gifts from Dad and Grandad. Ill stay till my examsI study remotelythen head back.”
“Stay as long as you like!” Margaret finally said. “Its no trouble at all!”
A month passed. Margaret sat on her bench, watching Vicky skillfully tend the garden. Youd never guess shed grown up in the city.
With Nicholass help, Vicky had dug up the neglected plot, divided it into beds, set up a greenhouse, and bought seedlings from neighbors. She planted everything with glee.
Nicholas wasnt idle either. With his savings, hed started building a modern farm, hired workers to fix Margarets roof, and installed central heating in place of the old stove.
Margaret was overjoyed. She smiled constantly. She wasnt alone anymore.
Only sometimes did a shadow cross her facewhen she remembered Vicky would leave soon. Shed grown so fond of her great-granddaughter. But time flew, and before long, Vicky packed her bags.
“How will I manage this garden alone?” Margaret sighed, wrapping up pies for Vickys journey.
“Oh, Gran, just remember to fill the water barrel. Nicholas will handle the rest! And Ill be back to weed!” Vicky grinned.
“Youre coming back?” Margarets face lit up.
“Of course! I cant stay away! Ive grown to love you with all my heart. And Nicholas proposed! Were getting married in autumn! What kind of farmers wife would I be if I didnt come back?”
A year later, Margaret basked in the sun, gently rocking the pram where her great-great-grandson slept. Vicky and Nicholas were at the farm, which thrived and brought life back to the whole village.
Margaret looked down at the baby, then smiled to herself.
“Not yet,” she thought. “Ive still got work to do.”
