Sweet Wrappers
My word, youre a real sweet wrapper, George! Someone ought to give you a proper thrashing, but theres no one to do it now, and its hardly fitting! Grown so old, yet never found your sense!
Old Martha spat at the boots of her neighbor and, leaning on her bad leg, hobbled away. Shed said all she needed; now let his conscience teach him how to live. If people couldnt talk sense into him, perhaps fate would find its way in.
Imagine! Scheming to put his very own mother off to a poorhouse! Has the world gone mad? Yes, Claudias bedridden now, but is he her son or just a cold-hearted stranger? It makes her blood boil! Had she the strength, she wouldnt think twice. Shed have taken her friend in with no bother. But what use griping? She could barely manage herself, let alone another.
And young HarrietMartha pitied her. Such a good girl, that one, but shes not a workhorse, to bear the load alone. Shed stayed behind in the village, gave up going off to college when her mother fell ill. Well, in truth, she did go at first, but came back in the end. Couldnt leave her mum or her gran, understood Martha wouldnt cope milling about after her daughter. Martha struggled to keep herself in order. Ever since her leg broke two years back, shed been worse off. Before that, shed only just managed, but now it was nearly hopeless.
Her younger daughter had offered to bring Martha to live in the city, but shed refused. What sense was there? The flat she had was tiny, barely enough room for everyone. Her son-in-law was a good sort but not a go-getter. Works and works, but it gets them nowhere. They had two children themselves, but money was tight. Martha was no help to them. She used to keep livestock and lend a hand to her girls with raising their own families, but now she was a shadow of herself Even Harriet chided her for speaking so, but whats the point in pretending otherwise? Her strength had ebbed away. Just getting out of bed of a morning was a trial: shed lie there, collecting her thoughts, willing herself to get up, bit by bitup and onward. There! She was up! Off to it!
It was a mercy Harriet, her granddaughter, was nimble as a young lamb. While Martha was stirring herself, Harriet had the house sorted, cared for her mother, and was gone to work. Such a lively soul! Always had been, from the cradle.
Martha had her eldest, Harriets mother, late in life. Never thought shed be a mum. Had given up hope for it.
Her first husband never forgave her emptiness, and he left. Martha grieved, but not terribly. She could see hed never truly loved her. She burned for him, but he
In her young days, Martha had been a stunning beauty, the prize of the whole county. Boys chased after her since schooldays, but she didnt encourage them; she was waiting for true love, you see. She thought itd come knocking any day, the one for whom her heart would leap. Time went on, but he never appeared. She stopped so much as peeping about, kept her head lower and lower under her own mothers scolding.
Stop being so picky! Youll end up an old maid! her mum said.
But how could she accept when all her heart rebelled at the thought?
Then one day, a young man demobbed from the army and moved in with his grandparents in a neighboring village. Martha hadnt known of him at all. He hadnt returned to his own parents, but to his granny and granddad. No one knew why at first, least of all Martha.
But when she saw Alexander just once, she lost sleep over him, head over heels in love.
And he didnt hang about, either. No sooner had he set eyes on Martha, he sent his people to arrange things. Marthas mum was over the moon. Whats to think about? The girl was considered long past her time for marriage, and here she still sat at home!
Their wedding was a grand, lively affair. Martha was so happy she didnt know where to look. She barely noticed at first the whispers among the guests. Only when her new mother-in-law took her by the hand and led her towards a woman in a dark shawl, standing next to a pram, did Martha begin to suspect all wasnt well.
Shed noticed this strange woman as soon as shed come into the courtyard, and when her mother-in-law gently nudged her towards the pram, Marthas heart stopped. It was all painfully clear.
Alexander, later that night, told her hed left a fiancée behind for the army, but hadnt believed it when folk said shed borne him a son, given the timeframes. His family insisted the dates didnt add up. Only later, under pressure from neighbors, Alexanders mother went to see the jilted girl, and there she found a little Alexander sleeping in his cothis fathers image. But by then, it was settled: Alexander had married another.
The girl whod borne his child refused to live with him. Wouldnt forgive the betrayal. And she didnt know her own mother had gone to her ex-fiancés wedding, baby in tow. The old woman had said she was just visiting her sister to show off the grandson.
Why? Martha asked, glancing up at the weary woman with tight, sorrowful lips.
So you know who youre marrying, was the reply.
What use that knowledge was, Martha never worked out. She loved her husband, and what came before was, well, hardly unusual. The worlds short on saints. Hed made mistakes, sure, but hadnt she?
Never did Martha forbid her husband to see his son. Not that Alexander ever showed much interest. Martha soon realized he knew only how to love himself; the rest of them were just the frame around his portraitfor show.
No one could fault him: good provider, a full house. But happiness seemed to pass her by.
In the sixteen years they spent together, never once did Martha feel the warmth of genuine affection from her husband. He was there, and somehow, not there at allechoes in an empty house.
She kept telling herself things would change once the children came. The mans heart hadnt woken just yet; it happened, she told herself.
But then, as carelessly as you please, he told her she wasnt even a womana useless log, since she couldnt bear him a child. Martha saw then her life was trudging a pointless road.
They parted quietly, so quietly some in the village didnt even realize the household had split. Only Martha remained.
Alexander left soon after the final papers were signed, leaving the house to Martha with an awkward apology.
Dont hold it against me. We both carry the blame, but I was meant to answer for it.
Martha never truly forgave him, but she felt some weight lift. This was fate, she thought. God gave her beauty in spades, but happiness? Not so.
For two years, Martha lived alone. She threw herself into work, walked about the village with her head held high, trying not to listen to the gossip. Times had changed! What did it matter if a husband left? Who really left whom, anyway?
But her heart ached nonetheless. She longed for a home filled with more than just her own footsteps.
She didnt fall in with Nicholas right away. She observed him a long whilethey were neither of them young, and he was a stranger in those parts. Who knew what he was like inside? He lived alone, never socialized much, only helped when help was asked, and never asked for help himself. Hed fixed up the old family house and kept his bit of land going.
He was a calm, gentlemanly sort, and started courting Martha. Shed forgotten what that was like, if shed ever known it truly. Alexander had only brought her flowers once, and that was the sum of it. She never gave much thought to romance while she was besotted, and later, shed had no time for such things.
Nicholas was different. Not showy, but always thoughtful, never empty-handed, always doing some little fix or helpful turn. Martha decided she could bear the gossipanything was better than howling with loneliness. At least now, her old age wouldnt be spent alone.
She had no great expectations from this second marriage, but fate took a turn and blessed her in a way that left her astonished.
She hadnt suspected she was pregnant with her first daughternot for months. Nothing was regular with her; shed always been that way. Felt fine, toonone of the nausea or fuss.
It was Claudia, her friend, who noticed something was off.
Surely youre expecting, Martha! Claudia declared one day, seeing Martha sway and shield her eyes from the sun.
Dont be daft! How could I be? Martha deflected. Im barren
My gran always said its not always the womans fault. Even doctors say so; sometimes its both. Perhaps Alexander was never meant for you, children-wise. You ought to see a specialist in the city. Who knowsmaybe theres happiness for you yet?
Martha returned from London a changed woman. People in the village stared after her as she strode home, beaming brighter than the sun, her joy plain for all to see.
She had two daughters in turn and no longer walked with her eyes on her slippers. There was nothing to be ashamed ofshe was finally a mother.
Martha dotes on her girls, and everyone marvels. Theyre always tidily dressed, white ribbons in their plaits, new frocks for each Sundaythough they, like all children, climbed trees and splashed through puddles and swam in the river come summer. Martha never once gave them a slap or cross word; shed set a basin of water, hand them the soap, and show them how to wash their socks. If they tore something, shed hand over the needle. Mend it yourselves. Ill teach you.
When Nicholas diedtaken in a motor accident after visiting their younger daughter in townMartha was shattered. If not for her children, shed have followed him. But she kept herself together. Within a year, her elder daughter had a child of her ownHarrietand Marthas world brightened again.
She lived for her grandchildren. Her younger granddaughter was far off, in London, only visiting for holidays. But Harriet was nearby.
The girl grew up the spitting image of her gransame beauty, same bearing, only stronger of will. Headstrong. Once she set her mind to something, that was that.
Martha was at her happiest when it was a matter of schoolwork. But when Harriet came to womanhood, the tears began.
Harriet had fallen head over heelsfor their neighbor, George. He was five years her senior, an adult, while shed only just turned sixteen. She hardly knew her own heart, but insisted she loved him, stubborn as ever.
George, for his part, never looked at her twice. She was just the girl next doora mere child. He was grown, in love elsewhere.
Lucy, the one whod caught his eye, was striking, if not a beauty. She dressed better than any girl in the village, thanks to her doting father. Only spoiling, truth be told, had made her proud and over-bold. Nothing pleased Lucy unless the world was at her feet.
George, at first, she kept at arms length. She seemed to be weighing him.
Then there was that strange business.
Lucy had a beau from the next village, also a pampered sort. He flirted with her out of boredom, and she was pleased enough to accept invitations for dances and such. One day, they went off on his motorbike but never made it to their destination. No one knew what happened, but Lucy came home at dawn, bruised, her dress in tatters.
Only Martha saw her that night. Sleepless, shed gone to the garden at first light and caught sight of Lucy sneaking along the edge of the fields.
Lucy didnt look at her, just stumbled past as if Martha were invisible.
A week later, the village was abuzzLucys parents were arranging her marriage, and in a hurry.
George was over the moon, but Claudia saw through it.
Martha, this isnt right. But how can I tell my son? He wont listen. Its his life. Whatever happened to Lucy, it wasnt out of joy she ran to another. Its not my place to judge. But I feel for George. Hes sick with love.
Martha nodded, keeping her silence. She told no one what shed seen, nor did she have time for gossip. Her own house was in turmoilenough to ask for sympathy herself.
Harriet was stricken. Shed weep for days, staring out at the neighboring house as everyone busied themselves over wedding preparations. Sometimes shed curl up facing the wall, crying wordlessly.
Martha had tried every coax and promise to get Harriet to go to London to her aunt. Her only hope was that the girl would stay there, study, find herself a husband in the city, and never have to see her unrequited love again. Martha knew even if the truth of Lucys night was told, it wouldnt make a bit of differenceGeorges heart
But Harriet wouldnt heed her mother or her gran. Her father was gone, and no one held sway over her.
What was she waiting for? Hoping things might change? No one knew.
She held on until the very day of Lucys wedding, arriving with Martha and her mother, surprising everyone with dry eyes for the first time in ages. She stood apart, didnt sit at the table or answer her friends questions, and then quietly slipped away.
Her mother soon noticed Harriets absence and rushed after, fearful what her daughter might do. But once again, Harriet surprised her. Shed packed a bag, hugged her mum and gran, and set off for the city. They wept, but blessed her and waited.
Time, they say, heals all.
Perhaps it mightve healed Harriets wounds, but fate had other designs. Shed scarcely settled in London when disaster struckher mother ended up in hospital and never walked out again.
So Harriet packed again, nowhere else to go. Martha was alone, her health too frail to care for an invalid.
Harriet feared only that George and his wife might still be next door, but fate showed mercytheyd moved away after the wedding.
She unpacked, tidied the house, made her mother comfortable, and set her mind to work at the dairy farmthere was nothing else in a country village. Shed never been one to shy from work or scrimp with animals. She started up a smallholding, for earning just from farm wages wouldnt do.
So they carried on. Harriet did all she could for Claudia, too. The poor woman had nearly lost her mind after her own husbands burial. Her son lived far off, news came rarely, and letters wrote little of himself or familyjust money and passing questions about his mothers health. All Claudia knew was Lucy had borne two children, a boy and a girl, but shed never met her grandchildren. Lucy refused to return to the village, or perhaps George was always away, lorry-driving, always chasing money. Claudia could read between the lines that things were hard for her son, though George never said anything outrightmothers always know.
Perhaps that worry for her son pulled Claudia down, but down she went all the same. Harriet arranged for her to be taken to the county hospital, visited often, and cried quiet tears on the lane home. The doctors gave little hope.
Martha wrote George as soon as Claudia was taken away. Whether the letter got lost or what, he didnt comeand not only didnt come, but sent no word. A second letter, and then Martha turned to Harriet and said,
Hes washed his hands of his own mother, he has! What a sweet wrappermakes himself look good, but hollow within. And I thought him a decent man!
Gran, wait a bit! Didnt you always tell me not to tar someone with a bad brush until absolutely sure? Even then, no need. It keeps your own soul cleaner. Hell answer to himself. What now?
I dont know, darling, I dont know. Never thought hed treat his mother such. He doted on Claudia Where does it all go?
Why do you call him sweet wrapper anyway?
Theres a story in that. Another reason I never dreamed George would turn out so heartless.
What story? Tell me!
Oh, its an old tale. He mustve been six or seven, thena right age for sweet wrappers. All the children collected them, made neat collections. Getting hold of them wasnt easy, mind! Times were tight. Sweets were for holidays only, and then only the plainest sort. If it came to buying sweets or shoes, well, the choice was obvious. So wrappers were prized like gold. Collectors swapped them, but only for something precious. Now thenClaudia had a pair of prize hens then; not any old hens, but show ones. Just two, but they were pure white, crowned with tufts, prettiest youve ever seen. Her husband procured them heaven knows where, and Claudia loved those chickens. She hoped to breed more.
Then, disaster. Georges best pal had a dog, rambunctious and wilful, a sort his father fetched from the citya supposed hunting dog, but who knows. You couldnt let it loose about the village, it went after anything that moved.
George had invited his pal round, and he brought the dog with him. Soon enough, white feathers flew round Claudias yard…
Gran, you dont mean?
Yes, Harriet, the dog killed both chickens. Poor Claudia wept, and wouldnt speak to anyone for days. She didnt scold her son, but her heart was broken. But do you know what George did?
What?
He gave his whole collection of sweet wrappers to another friend, whose father often journeyed to the city. That lad agreed to bring George along, and George spent his savingswas saving for a new bicycleso he could buy his mother a new show hen, just the same.
Good for him!
Didnt he just… Claudia was over the moon! Not just to have another henthough she loved them sobut because her son had shown his character. And now? Where does it all go in people, Harriet? Martha sighed heavily, brushing aside her granddaughters protest.
What manner of son lets his mother linger ill and never visits? Whats the world coming to?
But Martha was lost for words herself a week after Claudia came home from hospital. Harriet, with a little help from the village nurse, had arranged her return.
What else could she have done? Couldnt wait any longer, and she couldnt see Claudia put somewhere else without familys consent.
George arrived unexpectedlythe very day Harriet had gotten used to balancing two invalids. Shed tend to her mother, dash over to Claudia, help as she could. Not much, but enoughfor now. Martha worried the girl would wear herself ragged, but how could she not help? Especially not when it was Georges own mother…
Harriet was scrubbing Claudias floors when the front door opened and a small boy dashed through, muddying the freshly washed boards, planted himself before Harriet and asked,
Are you my mummy?
There was such innocence and sincerity in the question that Harriet stood dumbfounded, mop in hand.
Shes just our neighbour, George said, gently steering his daughter, greeting Harriet. Sorry for showing up so late. Im to blame. Max was in hospital and I couldnt leave him, and Id nowhere for little Millie to go.
What about Lucy? popped out of Harriets mouth before she could stop herself. What did it matter to her?
No Lucy anymore. She left us, ran off with some new man. I’m on my own now.
Not reallywhat about the children? Harriet found her voice again, her unease melting away now that she faced tall, sturdy George, with his big brown eyes and little girl pressing close to his leg.
True enough. What am I saying? Im not myself today, Harriet. Is she? Nodding toward the sickbed, George knelt and took off his daughters boots.
Shes sleeping. Poor womans worn outneeds more rest, the doctors said. But we all miss her bustling about. Claudia never sat still a moment. Lying abed must be a punishment.
All her sides must be sore! Claudia called from the other room, and Harriet hurriedly finished up, left a pan of fresh soup and milk on the table, and dashed hometoo tired for goodbyes.
Harriet would have thought her heart would have hardened in Georges absence, but no. And now she was frightenedhe was no longer the boy whod pulled her plaits over the low fence, nor was she the blushing girl whod flush if he merely said Hallo. Theyd both changed; grown older. Perhaps smarter? At least, different.
The next day, Claudia told Martha, whod hobbled round to visit, that she wanted to ask her son to take her to the almshouse.
Martha was so enraged she wouldn’t even listen. Where she found the energy, heaven knows! She marched onto the porch, called for George, spat at his boots, and hobbled away. Wouldnt see or speak of him! Didnt even let Harriet question her.
No making excuses for him! Hes a grown man! What sort of son would cart his own mother off to the poorhouse? Thats heartless! Martha could no longer hold back her tears.
Harriet, in her old housecoat, darted across the lane in her slippers.
George! George! Where are you? She flung open the door. Wild, angry, radiant, like a spring day. Whats this youre planning, then? I wont let you send Aunt Claudia away! Not a chance. Pack up and go, well manage on our own! If Im caring for one or two, it makes no odds. Well squeeze another bed in with mum and call it done! Oh, you! And to think I
She broke off, gazing as Claudia laughed and wiped away tears, and George smiled, too.
Save your fighting, Harriet! Calm yourself, dear! Claudia wiped her eyes. He wasnt going to ship me off! I wanted it. I told Martha, didnt want to be a burden to my boy. She wouldnt let me finish before storming off!
Im staying, Harriet. What am I, if not my mothers son?
Really? Harriet faltered, then caught sight, frowning, of his packed bag. Then whats all this for?
Ive to go settle things back homesort my job, fetch my things. The children are with me, and the nurse will watch over Mum for a spell.
And now Harriet showed her true mettle.
She walked up, stood before George, looked him in the eye, and declared,
No need to drag the children aboutlet them stay here. Ill see to them. And Im waiting for you. Understand?
I do, George said, gazing at her as if seeing her for the first time. How could I not see you before, Harriet? How did I miss it?
Get yourself some spectacles in the city, or youll keep missing things, laughed Harriet, picking up the little girl, who hugged her knees. Lets visit Grandma Martha, eh? Shes making pies. Are you fond of pies? Good!
And some years later, George would wheel Claudia out onto the porch, followed by his mother-in-law.
Well now, ladies! Gently does it. Look what Ive brought from the citydeckchairs! Sit, liejust as you fancy. The fresh air will do you good.
Helping Claudia to settle, George would listen for the children.
The little ones are awake! But Harriet isnt back yet. Ill go see whats the matter.
Will she be home soon?
Shes taking her last exam now. She promised to finish among the top five, then rush home. So shell be here soon.
A car would pull up at the gate. Children, perched in the old cherry tree, would tumble down, shrieking,
Mummy! Mummys home!
Harriet, no longer the timid girl before George, would sweep them up in an embrace, winking at her husband.
A* for Mum!
Whod have doubted it! George would grin and walk inside.
The twinsdutiful like their mother, but impatient: that much was from George. Mischievous, like sweet wrappersbright, shiny, but unpredictable. Real little sweet wrappers, those two.
