A young woman stepped off the bus, cradling a little girl, and stared at the wooden sign. Willowbrook it read the name of the tiny village ahead.
Mary! a voice cracked with tears. An elderly lady in a white kerchief hurried toward them. Give me Katie, love.
The locals watched the strangers with curious eyes, but Grandma Ethel and Mary rushed past, lugging a suitcase and the child without a backward glance. When they reached the front door, Ethel slammed the gate shut and fled inside.
Emily! the older granddaughter sobbed at the kitchen table, clutching Katie. Marys tears fell in a steady stream.
I ran away from my husband, Grandma! she blurted. Hes a tyrant. He shouts vile things, threatens to take my daughter away, and I cant breathe in his house. Im exhausted.
Ethel stared at her, brow furrowed. Only three years together and your marriages already in ruins. What a modern folly.
Mary wiped her face, lifted her head, and met Ethels gaze.
Gran If you cant understand me, Ill leave. I left my mothers home once, and she only scolded me, saying I should endure a bad husband. How are we to live when were crushed?
Ethel kept her stern look but pulled Mary into an embrace, stroking her hair. Stay then. I wont say a word if you go. I have little left, but I need you close. This house will be yours, my dear, my beautiful girl.
***
Mary, a city girl, had forgotten her own town. Rumours swirled that shed once married a local ruffian a story she herself let slip. Fleeing that man, she arrived at her grandmothers cottage with a suitcase and a baby, seeking refuge. She found work delivering post and quickly won the villagers affection with her good nature.
Mrs. Bakers farm is a haven, the townsfolk would say. Everyones kind, always ready to help.
One afternoon, Mary sat in the garden, showing Katie the berries. Dont be afraid, love. Pick these raspberries the red ones, the yellow ones. Over there are blackberries.
A black dog with white patches trotted out from the hedgerow, perked its ears, and barked at the pair. Good boy, Mary laughed.
A rustle in the fence revealed a curlyhaired boy. Katie stared at him wideeyed.
Tommy! a gruff voice called, and an elderly man shuffled over. Good afternoon.
Afternoon, Mary replied with a smile.
Tommy, now bold enough, slipped through the fence, clutched his hands together, and looked at Katie. He was barely older than her.
Come here, lad, Mary said, beckoning. We have berries, and Katie will love to play with you.
Tommys grandfather, a silverhaired farmer, leaned against the fence. We didnt know you had a Katie. Our Tommys a lonely lad, wandering the fields. Lucky weve got a dog Spot.
Marys heart lifted. Our Katie is bored. Come over, Tommy!
Tommy scrambled over the picket, followed by Spot. The childrens laughter rang out, never ceasing until night fell.
***
John, Tommys father, visited on weekends. He gazed at Mary with a mix of admiration and hunger, lavishing her with flowers and small gifts, whisking her and Tommy to the river in his battered old Ford. Grandma Ethel approved.
Mary, what a fine lad, she said. Hes a widower, his wife left him, and now he raises Tommy on his own. Hardworking, never drinks, and has a flat in the city because of his job.
Mary felt a flutter. She liked John, but fear clawed at her what if her estranged husband tracked her down? On paper, he was still her spouse.
She confided her worries; John promised to wait for her forever, to bring her to the city when the time came.
Tomorrow Im heading out, love, John said, looking into her eyes. Mind Tommy for me. Im getting older, and I cant watch over him all the time. Taking him to the city would be risky his exwife circles around him, hoping for a claim.
Ill look after him, Mary replied, smiling. Go safely, honey.
Years slipped by. Grandma Ethel grew frail, and Mary tended to her, feeding her with a spoon. Katie started school. No word came from Marys former husband, and she settled into the new rhythm. Tommy grew into a mischievous lad, often skipping school, while his grandfathers health declined.
Mary ran between two houses, caring for the elders. John still visited on weekends, his old Ford creaking as he arrived, and Mary loaded its back with homegrown veg as a thankyou.
Time marched on, and Mary escorted Grandma Ethel to her final rest, feeling as though the world had slipped through her fingers.
In her teenage years, Katie began to rebel, forcing Marys tears onto her pillow. Tommy, now a teenager, was defiant, and Marys voice grew hoarse from shouting. Meanwhile, old Mr. Baker, the grandfather, spent his days reclined on a sofa, a newspaper his shield, while Mrs. Harris, a neighbour, shuffled in with porridge and a cold stare toward Mary.
Johns visits grew sparse, then vanished. He claimed his mortgage swallowed his salary, leaving nothing even for a pair of trousers for his son.
Take care of yourself, love, Mary said gently. Well manage.
John, hearing her kindness, left with a heavier heart.
***
Katie! Mary shouted from the yard, anger flaring. Come here, you little pest!
What do you want? Katie snapped, slumping on the doorstep.
Mary gestured toward the chicken coop. How could you let this happen, Katie? I just left for work and look whats happened.
Whats happened? Katie retorted, arms crossed.
Cant you see? The chickens are gone, the coops open. You should have closed it.
I didnt know, Mum. I have lessons to study for.
The winters coming, love, and we have no food.
I didnt close it, you think?
My eyes are tired, Katie, Mary muttered, tears beginning anew.
In the garden, the oncetidy rows were trampled, the fence broken, a section collapsed.
Tommy, I need to talk! Mary called, crawling through the hole in the fence. Tommy stood with a friend, laughing.
She stopped at the dogs kennel, peering inside. Ah, Spots nose is all covered in fluff. Hungry, Spot?
What are you on about, Aunt Mary? Tommy scoffed. Talking to dogs now?
The boys laughed at her.
Tommy, your dog knocked over the coop!
It wasnt Spot, Tommy replied, defensively. Our chickens roam free; they never touch it.
Mary stared, bewildered at the boy who had become such a cold teen.
***
Occasionally, Mary called her own mother, who sounded distant. Mary, Im busy, she said. Whats going on?
My mother? Mary asked. Your new family? Your stepdad? Or my grandchildren?
Theyre not strangers to me, her mother replied sharply. If you keep talking like that, forget you ever had a mother.
Marys throat tightened. Youre not my mother anyway
The call ended with a click, and Mary felt the sting of abandonment.
Later, her wages fell short, and in a burst of frustration she yelled at Katie, demanding she watch the house while she hopped on a bus back to the city, hoping to surprise John. She learned the address from Tommy, went straight from the station, and knocked on a door.
A young woman opened, smiling. Hello, were the Harrisons. Im Lily, Johns wife.
What? Who are you to him? Mary stammered.
My husband, Lily replied, eyes glittering. Were married.
Marys heart hammered. She fled, running back to the village.
John arrived that weekend as if nothing had changed, demanding a conversation. Whats this I hear about you marrying my son? he asked, voice heavy.
What do you mean? Mary asked, eyes wide.
Youre always busy with your farm, how could you think youre free?
Love, why are you treating me like this? she sobbed.
John sneered, Enough of this drama. Ive had enough of my first wifes tricks. Im going back to the city.
Mary tried to calm him, Dont worry, love. Ill look after everything.
Months passed. Grandma Ethel passed, and Mary tended to her with a spoon, while Katie went to school. No word from Marys exhusband came, and she finally felt a sliver of peace. Tommy grew into a reckless youth, skipping school, while his grandfathers health faded.
Mary shuttled between two homes, caring for the old. Johns visits dwindled to once a month, his oncebright smile now a weary line. He would arrive without gifts, his shoulders hunched, muttering, Mary, Im working night shifts, the mortgage eats my whole wage. I cant even buy my son new trousers.
Mary held him gently. I understand, John. Keep healthy, dress for the weather, and well manage.
His eyes softened, and he left with a lighter step.
***
Katie! Mary shouted, frustration seeping through the garden walls. Come here, you little brat!
What do you want? Katie snapped, leaning against the porch railing.
Mary gestured toward the smoking chicken shed. How could this happen, Katie? I left for work and look what youve done.
Whats the problem? Katie replied, arms crossed.
The chickens are gone, the coops open. You shouldve closed it.
I didnt know, Mum. I have homework.
The winters coming, love, and we have no food.
I didnt close it, you think?
My eyes are tired, Katie, Mary whispered, tears welling.
The garden was a mess: trampled beds, a broken fence, and a gaping hole.
Tommy, I need to speak with you, Mary called, climbing through the fence. Tommy stood with his mate, grinning.
She paused at the dogs kennel. Spots nose is all fluffy. Hungry, Spot?
What are you on about, Aunt Mary? Tommy sneered. Talking to dogs now?
They all laughed at her.
Tommy, your dog knocked over the coop!
It wasnt Spot, Tommy defended. Our chickens wander freely, they never touch it.
Mary stared, bewildered at the boy whod become so indifferent.
***
One evening, after a bitter argument with Katie, Mary fled the village on a night bus, heading back to the city with a secret plan. She arrived at a modest flat, where Johns wife Lily opened the door, smiling.
Hello, were the Harrisons, Lily said. Im Johns wife.
Marys world shattered. She turned and ran back to the countryside, heart pounding.
John, furious, confronted Mary at the village green. Whats this I hear about you marrying my son? he demanded.
What? Mary asked, bewildered.
Youre always busy with your farm, how could you think youre free? he snarled.
Love, why are you treating me like this? she sobbed.
John spat, Enough. Ive had enough of my first wifes tricks. Im heading back to the city.
Mary tried to calm him, Dont worry, love. Ill look after everything.
Time moved on. Ethels funeral passed, Katie grew into a teenager, and no word came from Marys former husband. Tommy, now a lanky teen, still clashed with his grandfather, while the old farmer spent his days reclined, a newspaper shielding his eyes, as Mrs. Harris shuffled in with a cold stare toward Mary.
Johns visits became rare, his shoulders heavy with mortgage debts. He would appear, sigh, and say, Im working nights, the mortgage swallows my salary. I cant even buy my son new trousers.
Mary placed a gentle hand on his arm. I understand, John. Take care of yourself, stay warm, and well manage.
He left with a softer step, feeling a flicker of hope.
***
The village of Willowbrook whispered of Marys past, labeling her a bandit because she arrived with a massive guard dog that snarled at the neighbours mutt, Spot. Rumours flew: It was him, I saw it from my window! shouted old Mr. Harris, pointing at the battered dog whose ear lay torn. The poor animal hid in its kennel, trembling, refusing to leave.
Mr. Harris, sleepless and worried for his grandson Tommy, called the local constable, demanding answers. Finally, a rusted van pulled up, and Tommy emerged, opening the back door. Out stepped Katie, dressed in a white frock, hair neatly brushed.
Granddad, were heading to the town for dinner, dont lose me, Tommy called, waving to his grandfather.
Mr. Harris, baffled, ran to the broken fence at the Bakers garden and shouted, What does this mean? You said you didnt want Katie!
Tommys father, Leonard, stared, pale. I never said that! he stammered.
Enough of this! shouted Mary, her voice cracking. Stay off my land!
The guard dog barked wildly, leaping at the fence, and the old man, terrified, slipped into the hole, letting out a terrified scream.
Later, at a modest town restaurant, Tommy answered his new fatherinlaws questions. Leonard, a stern man, leaned back, eyes narrowing.
So you never wanted to marry? he asked.
No, I love Katie, Tommy replied, cheeks flushing. Id have gone to the registry as soon as I could. Im only eighteen.
My father opposes it? Leonard probed.
Its just an old man, rambling, Tommy shrugged.
Mary, watching from a corner, shook her head. What a mess, she muttered, sipping tea.
The next day, Leonard erected a tall new fence around Marys garden, sparing no expense. Now no oneespecially the Harrisonswill bother you, he declared.
Mary glanced at him, then at the fence, and whispered, Good. Ill be fine.
Leonard approached his former wife, a tired woman with hair pulled back. Will you come with me, Mary? he asked.
No, she replied, a faint smile on her lips. You have your own life.
He chuckled, Shes not really my wife, just a companion. Our daughter is grown now.
Two rivers dont flow into the same stream twice, she said, eyes softening.
They sat on the porch, arms around each other, sharing a quiet moment.
Forgive me, Mum, Katie said, tears in her eyes. Ive caused you so much pain.
Its alright, Mary replied, brushing a strand from Katies cheek. Youre my daughter, my Gurskova. Well get through this together.
If Tommy ever hurts you, Ill send him away myself, Mary promised.
Try him, love, Katie whispered, gripping Marys hand. Well handle him together.
***
One night, John knocked at the gate, breathless. Mary! Open up!
What do you want? she asked cautiously.
They say you married my son, Tommy. Who gave you permission?
What? Do I need permission for this? Mary snapped. Ive raised your boy; hes not a stranger to me.
Ive decided to take Tommy to the city, John declared.
He wont leave his wife. And your flat is a onebedroom; your girl will protest, Mary retorted.
Johns shoulders slumped. Im alone now.
Why are you saying that? There arent many foolish enough to wait for someone like me, Mary replied, bitterly.
Enough, he growled, Our grandchildren will be grown soon; we should unite.
No, Mary said, crossing her arms. You Garrisons think you can play with the Gurskys feelings. From now on, our son stays with us, and you go away. I dont need you.
Dont be absurd, John snapped.
The gate slammed shut with a deafening clang, sealing his fate.
