They judged Margaret in the village on the very day her belly began to show beneath her cardigan. At forty-two years old! A widow! The scandal of it.
Her husband, Samuel, had been in the churchyard ten years now, and yet here she wasexpecting at her age.
Whos the father? the women hissed at the well.
Who knows! Always so quiet, so proper and now this! Carrying on, she is.
The girls are old enough to marry, and their mums the one gallivanting about! Disgraceful!
Margaret kept her eyes down, returning from the post office, a heavy bag biting into her shoulder. She simply pressed her lips together and stared at the ground, never meeting a souls eye.
Had she known how it would all turn out, perhaps shed not have got involved. But how can a mother turn her face away when her very own child sits weeping in shame?
But it hadnt started with Margaretit began with her daughter, Mary.
Mary was no ordinary girl; she was striking, a perfect image of her late father, Samuel. He too was once the most handsome lad in the villageflaxen-haired, blue-eyed. Just as Mary was now.
The whole parish watched her with admiration. Her younger sister, Catherine, was a different storydark-haired, brown-eyed, serious, quiet like her mother.
Margaret adored both her girls. She poured her heart into them, working two jobs to providecarrying the post through rain and shine by day, scrubbing the dairy at dusk. It was all for them.
You girls must study, Margaret would urge. I dont want you ending up like me, a lifetime dragging bags through the mud. You need to go to the city, make something of yourselves!
So Mary set off for the city, bright as a bird escaping its cage. She got into the trading college and quickly caught everyones attention there.
Shed send home photographsat fancy restaurants, draped in fashionable dresses. She had a beau, toothe son of some bigwig. Mum, he promised me a fur coat! shed write.
Margaret beamed with hope. Catherine grew sullen, staying in the village after school ended, working as an orderly at the surgery. She dreamed of being a nurse, but there simply wasnt enough money.
The whole of Margarets widows pension and every penny she earned went to Marys city life.
***
That summer, Mary came homenothing like her usual vibrant self laden with treats and chatter. She was quiet, frail almost, hiding away for two days straight. On the third, Margaret found her sobbing into her pillow.
Mum Mum Ive ruined everything
The story came out. The golden fiancé had his fun and left her behindnow she was four months gone.
Its too late for anything now, Mum! What will I do? He wants nothing to do with me! The college will throw me out! My lifes over!
Margaret sat, thunderstruck.
You mean you didnt keep yourself safe, love?
What does it matter now? Mary wailed. So what are we to do? Hand him over to the orphanage? Leave him out in the woods?
Margarets heart nearly failed her. The thought of her own grandchild sent away
That night, Margaret paced the house sleepless. By dawn, she sat at Marys bedside.
Well see it through, she said steadily.
Mum! How can we? Theyll all know! Itll be a scandal!
No one will know, Margaret decided firmly. Well say hes mine.
Mary stared in disbelief. Yours? Mum, do you hear yourself? Youre forty-two!
Hes mine, Margaret repeated. Ill go stay with Auntie in the neighbouring county, saying Im there to help her. Ill have the baby, stay on for a while. You go back to your studies, Mary.
Catherine, sleeping just behind the thin wall, heard it all. She bit into her pillow, tears streaming down her face for her motherand in bitterness toward her sister.
***
A month later, Margaret left. The village muttered and then forgot. Six months would pass before she returned, not alone, but with a tiny blue bundle.
Here you are, Cathy, she told her pale younger daughter. Meet your little brother Michael.
The villagers gasped. Oh, quiet Margaret! The widow! With child!
Whos the father? they whispered anew. Could it be the churchwarden?
Hes much too old! Perhaps the farmhandthe single one, you know!
Margaret said nothing as the gossip flew. Life became near unbearable. Michael was a fretful child, demanding, loud. Margaret nearly collapsed with exhaustionher postal bag, the dairy, and now, sleepless nights.
Catherine helped wordlesslywashing nappies, rocking her brother. But inside, she seethed.
Mary wrote from the city: Mum, how are you all? I miss you so much! Theres no money yetIm struggling myself. But Ill send something soon!
A year later, some money arriveda single hundred pounds. A pair of jeans for Catherine, two sizes too small.
On they managed, Margaret and Catherine together. Even Catherines life suffered; no young man wanted to look twice at a bride with such a dowrya mother fallen from grace, a brother born in shame.
Mum, Catherine said quietly when she was twenty-five, maybe we should tell the truth?
No, love! Margarets fear rose. It would ruin Marys life! Shes married now, a good man, settled.
Indeed, Mary had landed on her feet. She finished college, married a businessman, and moved to London. Photos arrivedher in Egypt, Turkey, abroad and elegant as a lady from a magazine.
She never asked after her brother. Margaret wrote, Michaels started schoolbrings home top marks. In return, Mary sent costly but utterly useless toys for village life.
The years passed quickly. Michael turned eighteena tall, blue-eyed lad, cheerful and full of promiseso like Mary. He adored Mother Margaret and Catherine too.
By then, Catherine had settled in herselfworking as a senior nurse at the county hospital.
An old maid, people whispered. Shed resigned herself to it, her whole life spent for her mother and Michael.
Michael finished school with distinction.
Mum! Im off to London! Going to make my mark! he declared.
Margaret felt her heart squeeze. Londonwhere Mary lived.
Why not try the county university? she suggested timidly.
No, Mum! I need to push on! You and Cathy just waitIll give you a palace, youll see!
And then, on the day Michael sat his last exam, a gleaming black car rolled up to their gate.
Out steppedMary. Margarets breath caught. Catherine froze, a tea towel in hand.
Mary, nearly forty but looking like a magazine coverslim, gold-clad, expensively dressedswept in.
Mum! Cathy! Hello! she sang, pecking a stunned Margaret on the cheek. Wheres
She caught sight of Michael, who stood wiping oil from his handshed been tinkering in the shed. Mary faltered. She stared and her eyes began to brim.
Hello, Michael greeted politely. Youre Mary? My sister?
Sister Mary echoed numbly. Mum, we need to talk.
They sat inside.
Mum I have everythingmoney, home, a husband But Im childless.
Mary dissolved, smudging her expensive mascara across her face.
Weve trieddoctors, everything. Nothing works. My husbands angryhe wants a child. I cant bear it any longer.
Whyve you come, Mary? Catherine asked, voice hollow.
Mary raised her streaming eyes to Catherine.
Ive come for my son.
Have you lost your mind? What son?
Mum, dont shout! Hes mine! Mine! I gave birth to him! I can give him everything! Ive got connectionshell get into any college, we can buy him a flat in London! My husband knowsIve told him all!
You told him? Margaret gasped. Did you tell him about us? How I wore the mark of shame? What Catherine suffered?
Oh, Catherine! Mary waved a hand. Shes spent her life in this backwatershell die here! But Michaelhe has a chance! Mum, you saved my life thenlet me now have my son back!
Hes not a parcel to be passed around! Margaret erupted. Hes mine! I raised him, cared for himhes my boy!
Just then, Michael entered, pale as a sheet, overhearing it all. He stood at the doorway, looking between them.
Mum? Cathy? Whats she talking about? What son?
Mike! Son! I’m your real mother, do you see?
He stared at her as though seeing a ghost, then turned to Margaret.
Mum is it true?
Margaret covered her face and broke down in tears. Catherine finally snapped.
Catherine, always quiet, strode to Mary and slapped her so hard Mary reeled against the wall.
You fiend! Catherine criedeighteen years of humiliation and anger at her wasted life boiling in her shout. Mother? You left him like a stray! You knewbecause of you, mother couldnt show her face in the village! You knewbecause of your sin, I had to live alone! No husband, no children! Now you think you can just come back and take him?!
Cathy, enough! Margaret whispered.
No, Mumnot this time! Weve suffered enough. Catherine turned to Michael. Yesshes your mother. She left you to my mother to raise while she ran off to the city for her life. And this, she pointed at Margaret, is your grandmother. She ruined her own life for you both!
Michael stood silent for a long time, then knelt by the weeping Margaret and held her close.
Mum, he whispered. Mum.
He raised his head and looked at Mary, still leaning on the wall, clutching her cheek.
I have no mother in London, he said softly but firmly. I have one motherhere. And a sister.
He rose, took Catherines hand.
And you, madam go.
Mike! Son! Mary wailed. I can give you everything!
I have everything I need, Michael replied. I have a wonderful family. Youve nothing.
***
Mary left that very night. Her husband, who had watched from the car, never even got out. Rumour had it, by the following year, hed left her for someone who bore him a child. Mary was left alone, with her money and her fading beauty.
Michael never did go up to London. He enrolled at the county college, trained as an engineer.
Mum, Im needed here. Well build ourselves a new house, he said.
And Catherine? That night, when she finally let her feelings out, it was as though a cork had popped loose. She came alive, bloomed at thirty-eight. Even that very farmhand the village had once gossiped about began to take an interesta decent man, a widower.
Margaret watched them both, tears streaming down her facethis time, only from happiness. Sin, after all, does leave its mark. Yet theres nothing a mothers heart wont endureor forgive.
