Early Spring
Little Emily, a four-year-old girl, eyed the “newcomer” who had recently appeared in their neighbourhood. He was a silver-haired retiree sitting on a bench, leaning on his walking stick like a wizard from a fairy tale.
Emily couldnt resist asking:
“Grandad, are you a wizard?”
When he shook his head, she looked a bit disappointed.
“Then why dyou have a staff?” she pressed.
“It helps me walk, lovemakes it easier to get about,” explained George Wilson, introducing himself properly.
“So, youre really old then?” Emily asked, curiosity undimmed.
“By your standards, maybe. By mine? Not so much. Just a dodgy legbroke it recently. Took a nasty fall. So, the sticks my new sidekick for now.”
Just then, Emilys grandmother, Margaret, appeared, took her hand, and steered her toward the park. Margaret gave their new neighbour a polite nod, and he smiled back. But the real friendship blossomed between George and Emily. The little girl, always a step ahead of her grandmother, would dash outside early to update her elderly friend on everything: the weather, what Nan had made for lunch, and even how her best friend had been poorly the week before.
George never failed to reward these updates with a posh chocolate. He was baffled, though, when Emily would unwrap it, take precisely one bite, then carefully fold the rest back into its wrapper and stash it in her coat pocket.
“Not to your taste, love?” he asked once.
“Its lovely! But I save half for Nan,” she explained.
Touched, George started giving her two chocolates the next time. Yet again, Emily took a single bite and pocketed the rest.
“Whos the lucky recipient this time?” George chuckled.
“Now I can share with Mum and Dad. They could buy their own, but they like being treated too,” she clarified.
“Ah, I see. Youve got a tight-knit bunch, havent you? Lucky girl. And a kind heart to boot.”
“Nans kind too. She loves everyone loads,” Emily began, but Margaret had already emerged and was beckoning her.
“Oh, George, thank you for the sweets, but reallyEmily and I shouldnt be indulging. Doctors orders,” Margaret said apologetically.
“Well, now Im stumped. What *can* I treat you with, then?”
“Oh, weve plenty at home. Really, its sweet of you, but no need,” Margaret smiled.
“Nonsense. I insist. Besides, Im cementing neighbourly relations hereno shame in admitting it!” George grinned.
“Fine, lets switch to nuts. And well only eat them at home, with clean hands. Deal?” Margaret compromised, glancing between George and Emily.
Both nodded, and soon enough, Margaret was finding walnuts or hazelnuts tucked in Emilys pockets after their walks.
“My little squirrel, hoarding nuts! Dyou know these are frightfully expensive nowadays? And George here needs his medicinehave you seen his limp?”
“Hes not *that* old, and hes not *limping*,” Emily defended. “His legs getting better! He even said hell ski again by winter.”
“*Ski*?” Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Well, good for him.”
“Nan, can I get skis too? George promised to teach me!” Emily pleaded.
Over time, Margaret spotted George power-walking down the avenuestick-free.
“Grandad, wait for me!” Emily would sprint to catch up, marching beside him with gusto.
“Hold on, thenwait for me too!” Margaret would laugh, hurrying after them.
And so their trio was formed. Margaret soon grew fond of these brisk walks, while Emily treated them like a game, darting ahead, dancing on the path, or scrambling onto benches to greet them. “One-two, three-four! Heads up, march properly!” shed command.
Afterwards, Margaret and George would rest on the bench while Emily played with friendsnever leaving without a few nuts from George.
“You spoil her,” Margaret fretted. “Lets save this for special occasions, please.”
George confessed hed been widowed five years prior and had only recently downsized from his three-bedroom house to a modest flat, freeing up space for his sons family.
“I like it here. Not one for crowds, but a few good neighbours make all the difference.”
Two days later, George answered a knock to find Emily and Margaret bearing a plate of scones.
“Weve come to treat *you*,” Margaret announced.
“Got a kettle?” Emily added.
“Absolutelywhat a delight!” George ushered them in.
Over tea, Emily marveled at Georges bookshelf and art collection while Margaret watched, amused, as he patiently explained each piece.
“My own grandkids are off at uni. Miss em,” George admitted. “Your nans still young, though!” He handed Emily paper and pencils.
“Only two years retiredno time to mope,” Margaret said, nodding at Emily. “And my daughters expecting again. Lucky were just next door, really. Practically all under one roof.”
They spent the summer together, and come winter, true to her word, Margaret bought Emily skis. The trio took to the groomed trails in the local park, George leading the way.
He and Margaret grew so close they were inseparable, and with Emily often at her nans, the three met daily. But one morning, George left to visit family in London.
Emily missed him terribly. “Whens George coming back?” shed ask.
“Hes gone a full month, love. But well keep an eye on his flatthats what friends do,” Margaret said, though she missed him too: his little gifts, his cheerful grin, the way hed fix a loose socket or replace a bulb without fuss.
After a week, the bench felt emptier. On the eighth day, Margaret rushed outand there was George, waiting as usual.
“Back so soon?” she gasped. “Thought you were staying longer!”
“Ah, Londons too noisy. Everyones busy all daywhats the point? Saw the family, had a natter, job done. Truth is, I missed you two. Feels like youre mine now.”
“Did you bring your grandkids sweets?” Emily asked.
The adults laughed. “No, pettheyre too grown-up for that. Just gave em cash. Student lifes pricey,” George admitted.
“Glad youre back. Feels right, having everyone home,” Margaret smiled.
Emily hugged George, melting his heart.
“Weve stacks of pancakes todayall sorts. Fancy some tea? And you can tell us about London,” Margaret offered.
“London? Same as ever. But waitIve brought gifts!” George linked arms with Margaret and took Emilys hand as the first spring drizzle began. The thaw had come early.
“Whys it so warm today?” George mused.
“Cause springs coming!” Emily declared. “Soon itll be Mothers Day, and Nans having guests. Youre invited too, Grandad.”
“Oh, I do love you two,” George sighed, climbing the stairs.
After pancakes, he unveiled their presents: a bright wooden nesting doll for Emily, a silver brooch for Margaret. They ventured back out, retracing their usual route through the park. The snow had turned to slush, the paths clearing. Emily hopped over drying paving stones, chanting:
“Nan! Grandad! Catch me! One-two, three-four! Heads up, march properly!”
