A Good Woman
What would we do without her? And you only give her two thousand pounds a month. Margaret, remember, weve put her name on the flat. Comedies
I eased myself out of bed and shuffled into the next room, the dim glow of the nightlight barely cutting through my aging eyesight. I squinted at Margaret, my wifestill sleeping, breathing softly.
I knelt beside her and listened. Everything seemed fine.
I straightened up and shambled into the kitchen, took a carton of milk out of the fridge, then visited the bathroom. At last, I returned to my own bedroom and lay on top of the blankets, my mind racing, unable to sleep.
Ninety years, the both of us, Margaret and me. How long have we managed? Soon enough, well meet our Makerand theres no one left beside us.
Our daughters are gone. Natalie passed before she even reached sixty. We lost Max as wellalways running around, that one. Our granddaughter, Rachel, moved to Germany decades ago. She hardly remembers her grandparents now; probably has children of her own who dont even know our names.
I must have nodded off without noticing.
I woke to a gentle hand on my shoulder.
William, are you alright? Margarets voice, only just audible.
I opened my eyesshe was leaning over me.
What is it, Margaret?
I couldnt hear you breathe, so I came to check.
Im still alive! Go back to bed!
I heard her shuffling footsteps fade, then the click of the light switch in the kitchen.
Margaret drank some water, plodded to the loo, and returned to her bedroom. Lying there, she began to ponder.
One morning, Ill wake and hell be gone. What would I do? Or perhaps Ill go first.
Williams already booked the funeral tea for the both of uswho knew you could arrange these things in advance? But I suppose its smart. Who else would do it for us at this point?
Rachels long forgotten us. Our neighbour, Jane, is the only one who checks in nowadays. She has a key for our flat. William gives her a thousand pounds from our pensions; Jane does our shopping and picks up whatever we need. We cant even manage the stairs from the fourth floor these days.
The next morning, sunlight poked its way into the rooma sign of summers approach. William wandered out onto the balcony, smiling at the sight of the chestnut tree bursting green outside.
At least weve made it to summer!
He went to find Margaret. She sat, pensive, on her bed.
Come on, Margaret, enough moping! Let me show you something.
Oh, Ive barely got the strength, she muttered as she struggled to sit up. What are you up to?
Come on then!
He helped her down the hallway, steadying her shoulders, all the way to the balcony.
Look, the chestnuts green again. And you said we wouldnt see another summer. Here we are!
Oh, so it is! And the suns shining, too.
They sat together on the old bench, looking out.
Remember when I invited you to the pictures? Back in school? The chestnut tree was in leaf just like this
How could I forget? How many years ago was that, now?
Over seventy seventy-five, in fact.
They sat for ages, reminiscing about their youth. So much slips from your memory as you grow oldeven things from yesterday can vanish, but your younger days never really leave you.
My wife finally got up.
Weve prattled on so long, weve missed breakfast.
Margaret, make us some proper tea, would you? Im tired of these bland herbs.
Were not supposed to.
Just a weak one, then, and a spoonful of sugar.
I drank my watered-down tea and nibbled on a little cheese sandwich, remembering when tea was always strong and sweet, and breakfast meant pastries or hotcakes.
Jane popped in from her flat next door, smiling kindly.
How are you two getting on?
What sort of business can two ninety-year-olds have? I quipped.
Well, if youre joking, you must be fine. Do you need anything from the shop?
Jane, would you mind picking up some meat? I asked.
Youre not supposed to have that, William.
Chickens permissible.
Alright. Ill get some and make you a nice noodle soup.
Jane tidied the kitchen, did the washing up, and headed off.
Margaret, lets sit on the balcony again, I suggested. Well warm ourselves in the sun.
Alright!
Jane reappeared and stepped out to join us.
Missing the sunshine already?
Its good out here, Jane, Margaret beamed.
Ill fetch you some porridge for now and then start on your soup for lunch.
Shes a treasure, I said as she left. What would we do without her?
And you only pay her two thousand a month, remarked Margaret.
Weve put her on the flat, you know.
She doesnt even realise that.
We stayed on the balcony until lunch. Jane brought chicken noodle souptender pieces of meat and mashed potatoes that tasted of home.
I used to make soup like this for Natalie and Max when they were small, Margaret remembered fondly.
And now, in our old age, its strangers cooking for us, I sighed.
I suppose thats our fate, William. When were gone, theres no one to mourn for us.
Enough gloom, Margaret. Lets have a nap.
You know what they say: Old age is a second childhood. Everythings like it was when we were kids puréed soup, afternoon nap, tea at four.
I dozed for a bit, but restlessness soon set inmaybe theres thunder in the air? I wandered into the kitchen, where Jane had left two glasses of juice on the table.
With a shaky grip, I carried them through to Margarets room, where she sat looking out the window, lost in her thoughts.
Why the long face, Margaret? I tried to smile. Juice for you!
She sipped at her glass.
You cant sleep either.
This weather, I said.
I havent felt quite right since morning, she said softly. I dont think Ive got long left. Promise me a proper burial, will you?
Dont talk like that, Margaret! What will I do without you?
One of us will go firstyou know its true.
Enough of that! Come onback to the balcony.
We stayed there till dusk. Jane brought in cheesecakes for tea. We ate, then watched tellyjust as we do every night. We couldnt follow the new films anymore, so we stuck to the old comedies and cartoons.
Tonight, only one cartoon before Margaret said, Im off to bed, Im exhausted.
Ill come too.
Let me have a good look at you, she asked suddenly.
Why?
Oh, just to remember.
We stood for a long moment, gazing at one anothermaybe each of us remembering days when all of life was still ahead.
Come, Ill see you to your bed.
Margaret linked her arm through mine, and we made our way together.
I tucked the blanket gently around her and made for my own room, a heaviness pressing on my chest. I couldnt find sleep all night.
I must have slept a little, because suddenly the clock read two oclock. I rose and walked to her room.
She lay there, eyes wide open.
Margaret!
I grasped her hand.
Margaret, whats wrong? Margaret!
Suddenly I couldnt breathe. I staggered back to my room, took out the documents Id prepared and set them on the table.
I returned to her side, gazed at her face, then climbed beside her, eyes closing at last.
I dreamed of Margaret, young and beautiful, just as she was seventy-five years ago. She was walking towards the light at the end of a long hallway. I caught up, took her hand.
In the morning, Jane entered the flat. She found us lying together, matching peaceful smiles on our faces.
At last, Jane phoned for the ambulance.
The doctor, when he arrived, shook his head in surprise.
Both together. I suppose they loved each other very much
They were taken away. Jane, exhausted, sank onto the chair by the table. Then she noticed the documentsa will in her name.
Jane rested her head on her hands and began to cryHer hands trembled as she lifted the papers, her breath catching. A soft, astonished laugh escaped her lips, turning almost to a sob. She looked around their quiet homethe teacups still warm, the morning sun spilling across the balcony bench where they had sat only yesterday, laughing and remembering spring.
She pressed a hand to her heart, overwhelmed by the hush, the air still holding their voices. On the counter, two roses bloomed in a chipped glass, Margarets touch still fresh on their stems. Jane wiped her cheeks and opened a window, letting in the song of sparrows. She stood for a moment, listening; somehow, the flat did not feel quite so empty.
That evening, she watered the chestnut tree and sat beneath its shade, watching the sky blush with sunset one last time from their spot. The city hummed, life carrying on as always, but now two more names lay gently inside its endless storywritten not in stone, but in kindness, memory, and the sunlight falling golden on green leaves.
Jane stayed awhile, watching the world turn softly forward. She would keep the flat, as theyd wished, and fill it with laughter and warmth for all the quiet souls who needed it. In time, she knew, shed tell their storytwo good people, together always, who left the door unlocked for someone to remember them.
And in that space, with the kettle whistling for tea, she felt their love lingerlight as the spring air, enduring as the tree outside, patient as hope itself.
