Early spring
My fouryearold neighbour, Poppy, was staring at the newcomer that had just appeared in our courtyard. It was an elderly gentleman, silverhaired, sitting on a bench. He held a wooden walking stick, leaning on it like a wizard from a story.
Granddad, are you a wizard? Poppy asked.
When I heard the answer was no, she looked a little disappointed.
So why do you have that staff? she pressed on.
It helps me walk, makes it easier, the man replied, introducing himself as George Whitaker.
Does that make you very old then? Poppy asked again, curiosity bright in her eyes.
In your eyes, maybe. By my standards Im not that old yet. My legs been hurting since it broke a while back I fell badly so Im using the stick for now.
At that moment my mother, Margaret Hargreaves, came out, took Poppys hand, and led us toward the park. Margaret greeted the new neighbour with a smile, but the real connection seemed to form between George and Poppy. While waiting for her mother, Poppy would often slip out a bit early, coming into the courtyard to report the latest news: the weather, what her mother had cooked for lunch, and what her playmate had been ill with the week before.
George never failed to bring Poppy a nice chocolate sweet. Each time she thanked him, unwrapped the treat, bit off exactly half, and tucked the other half back into the wrapper, slipping it into her coat pocket.
Why dont you eat the whole thing? Not enough for you? George would ask.
Its delicious, but I must share it with my grandma, Poppy replied.
Touched, George next time presented two sweets. Yet Poppy again took just a half and hid the rest.
So who are you saving it for now? George asked, amused by her thrift.
Now I can give some to mum and dad. They could buy their own, but theyre always happy when I bring them a treat, Poppy explained.
Got it. You have a very closeknit family, George guessed. Youre lucky, girl. You have a kind heart.
And my grandma does too, Poppy began, but Margaret was already stepping out of the hallway, reaching for her granddaughters hand.
By the way, George, thanks for the sweets, but we shouldnt have any more sugary things. Please excuse us, Margaret said.
What should I do then? Im in a bit of a bind what can I bring you? he asked.
Theres plenty at home, thank you, nothing needed, she smiled.
No, I cant just leave it. I do want to treat you, and Im keen to build a good neighbourly relationship, George replied.
Then lets switch to nuts. Well eat them just at home, with clean hands, alright? Margaret suggested to both George and Poppy.
Poppy and George nodded, and soon Margaret found a few walnuts or hazelnuts tucked into Poppys pockets.
Oh, my little squirrel, carrying nuts, Margaret chuckled. These days nuts are a bit of a luxury, and old George needs his medication, you see hes a bit unsteady.
Hes not that old nor unsteady. His leg is getting better, Poppy defended, and he wants to get back on his skis by winter.
Back on skis? Margaret raised an eyebrow. Well then, good on him.
Could you get me a pair of skis, please? Poppy begged. Then I can go skiing with George. He promised to teach me.
Later, while strolling through the park, Margaret spotted George walking briskly along the path, no longer using his stick.
Granddad, Im right behind you! Poppy called, matching his lively stride.
Wait for me then, Margaret called after them.
The three of them started walking together, and soon Margaret enjoyed the rhythm, while for Poppy it became a lively game. She could dash, dance along the path, hop onto a bench to greet Margaret and George, then rally them with:
One, two, three, four! Keep a firm step, look ahead!
After their walk, Margaret and George would sit on the garden bench while Poppy played with her friends, always receiving a few nuts from George before they said goodbye.
Youre spoiling her, Margaret whispered. Lets keep this tradition for special occasions only, please.
George shared that he had been a widower for five years and had only now decided to sell his threebedroom flat, splitting the proceeds into a oneroom flat he moved into and a twobedroom for his sons family.
I enjoy it here. Im not one for crowds, but you do need mates, especially neighbours.
Two days later, there was a knock at Georges door. He opened it to find Poppy and Margaret holding a tray of pies.
Wed like to treat you, Margaret said.
Do you have a kettle? Poppy asked.
Of course, come in! George ushered them in.
Over tea the atmosphere was cosy and warm. Poppy examined Georges modest library and his collection of prints, while Margaret watched the delight on her granddaughters face as George patiently explained each picture.
My grandchildren live far away, already at university. I miss them, George added, but your grandmas still spry!
He handed Poppy a pencil and a sketchpad.
Ive only been retired for two years, and theres no time to be bored, Margaret said, her eyes on Poppy, and my daughter is expecting her second child. Were lucky to live in adjoining blocks, makes it easy to help each other.
All summer the neighbours kept in touch, and by winter Margaret, as promised, bought a pair of crosscountry skis for Poppy. The trio began training on the local parks snowcapped trail, which was always wellgroomed.
George and Margaret grew so close they almost walked only together. Poppy, who didnt attend nursery, spent most of her time with Margaret, so the three met daily. Then George had to travel to his relatives in London.
Poppy missed him terribly, asking Margaret constantly when hed return.
Hes away for a while. He said hed be visiting for a month. Were looking after his flat while hes gone, as friends do, Margaret explained. Margaret and Poppy both missed their friendly neighbour, his jokes, his smile, and his helpfulness fixing sockets, replacing a burntout chandelier bulb, anything.
A week passed and the empty bench where George used to wait felt oddly quiet.
On the eighth day Margaret stepped out of the hallway, hurrying to Poppy, and saw George back at his usual spot.
Hello, dear neighbour, she exclaimed, surprised. Werent you away longer?
Oh, I got fed up with the citys hustle. Everyones busy at work. I didnt want to wait alone for them. I missed you lot, youre like family now, George said, smiling.
Granddad, what did you give your grandchildren? Sweets? Poppy asked.
The adults laughed.
No, dear sweets arent good for them. Theyre grown now. I gave them a bit of cash instead they need it for studies, George admitted.
Thats great youre back, feels like you never left. All our things are here, Margaret added.
Poppy hugged George, moving him deeply.
Weve got plenty of pancakes today, with all sorts of fillings. Not worse than pies, very light. Lets have tea, and you can tell us about London, Margaret suggested.
Londons fine, bustling as ever. Ive brought you some little gifts, youll see George took Margarets arm and Poppys hand, leading them inside just as the first spring rain began. The thaw came early, unexpected.
Whys it so warm today? George asked, looking at Margaret.
Because springs near! Poppy answered. Soon itll be Mothers Day, and Grandma will host a tea, inviting everyone, including you, Granddad.
I love you all, dear neighbours, George said, climbing the stairs.
After the pancakes, they handed out little souvenirs: a bright wooden nesting doll for Poppy, and a silver brooch for Margaret. The three stepped back out onto the familiar worn path George liked to call the welltrodden route. Snow turned grey, soaking like a sponge, revealing the footpaths. Poppy hopped over the drying slabs, delighted by the milder air:
Grandma, Granddad, catch me! One, two, three, four! Keep a firm step, look ahead!
