Sweet Wrappers
Well, youre a right one, George! You ought to be given a proper good hiding, if only there was someone still about who would do it! Youve lived this long and still not a lick of sense to your name!
Old Mrs. Smith spat at her neighbours feet, favouring her bad leg, and hobbled away home. Shed said her piece, and now it was for his conscience to show him how a man ought to live. If neighbours couldnt set him straight, perhaps fate itself would have a go.
Look at what he was planningpacking his own mother off to a council home! Where had decency gone? Yes, Claudia was bedridden now, but was he her son or merely some passing stranger? It made Mrs. Smiths blood boil. If she had the strength, she wouldnt have thought twiceshed have taken her friend Claudia to live with her, no matter what. As it was, though…
She pitied Emma. The girl was good-hearted, but she wasnt a carthorse; she shouldnt have to bear so much alone. Shed stayed in the village when her mother fell ill instead of heading off to college. Shed left, but then shed returned, unable to abandon her mother and grandmother. She was helpful, knowing Mrs. Smith couldnt keep up with her daughter any longer. After breaking her leg two years ago, everything had gone by the wayside. Even before that, she barely managed; now, it was all she could do to get by. Her younger daughter wanted Mrs. Smith to move to London to live with her, but shed refused. Whatever for? The flat was too small, everyone squashed in like sardines. Son-in-law was a kind enough fellow but not the pushy sort, always working away, but nothing to show for it. Theyd two children and struggled to get by; Mrs. Smith was no longer any help. Once, shed looked after the house, the garden, the chickenshelped her children, but now she was a shadow, a rundown old thing… Emma grew cross when Mrs. Smith called herself that, but what was the point of arguing when it was the truth? No health, and her strength dribbled away. Even getting out of bed in the morning was a burden. Shed open her eyes, lie there a while, gather herself up like embers on a dustpan, one little pile at a time. Up she got, off she went.
Thankfully, young Emily, her granddaughter, was sprightly as a young deer. By the time Mrs. Smith was up and about, Emily had already put the house in order, tended to her mother, and rushed off to work. Nimble thing! Always was, even as a child.
Mrs. Smiths elder daughter, Claudias mother, was a late babyMrs. Smith had almost given up hope of becoming a mother at all. Her first husband never forgave her for her emptiness and left. Mrs. Smith mourned, but not deeplyshed seen he never truly loved her. She was all passion, he was merely present.
Shed been a great beauty in her day, the prettiest girl in the countyfair as the sunrise. Boys had chased after her even at school, but she held herself aloof, waiting for love, for someone whod make her heart stir. But no one came. Time passed, and Mrs. Smith stopped looking around, bowing her head under her mothers constant reproaches.
Why are you so fussy? Youll end up an old maid!
What could she sayshe didnt want to look twice at someone she couldnt care for?
Then a chap from the next village came back from the army. Mrs. Smith had never known him. Hed lived elsewhere with his parents; only after army did he return, not home, but to his grandmothers. Why, no one knew at first, and he didnt tell Mrs. Smith.
But the moment she saw Alexander, she was smitten, lost sleep, fell in love. And he didnt drag things out. The moment he set eyes on Mrs. Smith, he sent word to his people hed found a bride. Mrs. Smiths mother rejoiced. What was there to think about? Her daughter was long past her time.
They had a big, jolly wedding. Mrs. Smith was so happy she hardly noticed the whispers at the reception. Only when her mother-in-law took her aside, pressing her palm, did she realise something was wrong.
The woman in the black scarf had caught her eye at once. When her mother-in-law nudged her towards a pram beside the stranger, Mrs. Smiths breath caught. It was plain.
Later, Alexander confessed hed left behind a sweetheart before going to the army. He hadnt believed shed had his childhis own family insisted the timing was off. Only through relentless neighbourhood gossip did Alexanders mother go to see the jilted womanfound there a small Alex, sleeping in the cot. Spitting image! What could be done now? Another girl had already been picked
The woman whod borne Alexanders son refused ever to live with himshe would not forgive betrayal. She didnt even know her mother had taken the baby to the weddingshed claimed to visit her sister instead.
Why? Mrs. Smith asked, touching the pram, meeting the sad, tired womans eyes.
So you know who youre marrying.
Mrs. Smith never quite understood. She loved her husband, and the past was past. Where are saints in this world? Everyone errs, but isnt he a man all the same?
She never forbade Alexander from seeing his son, but he showed little inclination. Soon Mrs. Smith realised Alexanders one great love was himself; the rest of them were just the frame to his picture.
He was a capable man, good at managing things, provided well, but still, there was something missingno happiness rang through their home.
During those fifteen-odd years together, Mrs. Smith received little warmth from her husband. She waited, thinking a child might bring them closer, telling herself it was merely temporary, that his heart hadnt woken yet. But when he offhandedly remarked that she was hardly a woman, just a block of wood, if she couldnt have a child, she realised her life was wasted.
They split quietly; not everyone in the village even knew the Smiths were no longer together. Alexander left for London as soon as the paperwork was done, leaving the house to Mrs. Smith at last.
Dont bear grudges. Were both at fault, but I must take the blame, he told her before going.
She never truly forgave him, but her heart eased a little. Life, it seemed, had given her beauty in abundance, but happiness was not so freely given.
For two years, Mrs. Smith lived alone. Head held high, working and paying no mind to gossip. Times werent what they used to be. Who cared if a woman had been left by her husband?
And yet, her heart still ached. She yearned not to return to an empty house, but to somewhere alive with anothers voice.
She and Nicholas didnt get together at once. There was careful watching, getting to know, after all they werent so young anymore. He was an outsider as well. Who could tell what he carried in his heart? Kept to himself, rarely visited others, but patched up his old cottage and ran a tidy garden. Hed help a neighbour but never asked anything in return.
He was calm, polite, and soon began to court Mrs. Smith with modest kindness. Compared to Alexanders single bunch of daisies in all those years, it felt remarkable. Nicholas never came empty-handed; hed do some little thing about the house, lend a hand. Mrs. Smith thought, Well, things couldnt be worse than before. Let them gossipanything was better than howling with loneliness.
She expected nothing from her new marriage, but fate, it appeared, had other plans. Soon, Mrs. Smith was amazed to find herself expectingshe hadnt suspected for months, had always had irregularities, so paid little mind. It was Claudia, the neighbour, who noticed first.
Are you sure youre not expecting, Mrs. Smith? Claudia had gasped when she saw her sway and squint into the sun.
Nonsense! That couldnt be
My gran always said it isnt always the womans fault. Doctors say so too. Maybe Alexander wasnt the one for you. Why not go to London, get checked out?
Mrs. Smith returned glowing, the whole village whispering behind her with envyshe seemed so radiant. First one daughter, then another soon after, and Mrs. Smith stood tall againno shame in being a mother.
Her girls were always neat, dressed prettily even on ordinary days. Clean and well turned out, with ribbons in their hair, yet just as much out on the trees, in the puddles, swimming in the river in summer as any others. Mrs. Smith never scolded or smacked. Shed fill a basin with water, give them soap, teach them to wash their socks. If a dress was torn, shed bring out a needle and thread. Cant do it yet? Ill teach you.
Nicholas passed away when the younger daughter marriedhed gone to London to visit, but never made it home, dying in an accident on the way back.
For a long time, Mrs. Smith was lost to grief. Had it not been for her daughters, shed have followed her husband, but she pressed on. A year later, her eldest gave birth to Emily, and life seemed to return to her cottageeverything came alive again.
She lived for her grandchildren. The younger daughter was far, in the city, only appearing on holidays. But Emily was right by her side.
Emily grew into Mrs. Smiths imagebeauty, stature, only more stubborn. If she decided something, there was no turning her.
When it came to studies, Mrs. Smith was glad. But once Emily grew older, tears followed.
For Emily fell head over heels, and it wasnt just anyoneshe loved the neighbour George, who was five years older, already a man, while Emily was just sixteen. What did she know of the world? Still, she insisted she loved him, and no reason would sway her.
George never paid her any mind. Who was she? The neighbours little girl. He was grown, already in love with someone else.
Lucy, the object of Georges affections, was a striking girla little vain, always the best dressed, and pampered by her father. Such girls rarely thrive on being spoiled.
At first, Lucy kept George at arm’s length, but then something odd happened. Lucy had a beau from a village over, another pampered one. He courted Lucy for want of anything else to do, and she was pleased enough to make an appearance at dances, delighted to be seen. One evening they rode his motorbike to the next village, and vanished. What exactly happenedno one knew. But Lucy returned at dawnbruised and dress torn.
No one knewexcept Mrs. Smith. Shed been unable to sleep and gone to the garden early. Shed seen Lucy picking her way by the hedgerow, not meeting her gaze, walking right across the beds.
A week later, the village buzzed: Lucys parents were hastily arranging her wedding. Not just any weddinga quick one.
George was over the moon, but Claudia, his mother, was far from pleased.
Sarah, she said to Mrs. Smith, theres more to this than meets the eye. How do I tell my son? He wont listen. Its their business, really. If Lucys marrying someone else, its probably not because she loves him. But George is cutting himself up over it.
Mrs. Smith could only nod quietly. No one knew shed seen Lucy that nightit wasnt time for idle talk. She had troubles of her own at home.
Emily, heartbroken over George, seemed losteither sobbing all day, gazing through the window at Georges bustling house, or lying on her bed in silence as if mourning the dead.
Mrs. Smith and Claudia tried everything to persuade her to go to London, to stay with her aunt, try for a new life, but Emily wouldnt listen. Her father had passed, and no one else carried authority anymore.
What was Emily waiting for? Did she hope things would change, or something else? No one knew.
She waited until the day of Georges wedding, came with her mother and Mrs. Smith, eyes finally dry. Stood to the side, silent, giving no answer to friends, then quietly left for home.
Her mother noticed her absence at once, hurried after, fearing what might happen.
But Emily surprised herhaving packed her bag, she hugged her mother and grandmother tightly and caught the train to London. They wept but crossed themselves and agreed to wait and hope.
Time, after all, heals.
Time might have mended all, had Emily the luxury of it. But soon as she settled in London, disaster struckher mother fell ill, never leaving hospital again.
Once more, Emily packed her bag and returned. At home, Mrs. Smith was on her own, in poor health, unable to manage. Emilys only dread was that George and his wife might remain neighbours, but fate spared hertheyd moved on straight after the wedding.
Emily settled in again, tidied the cottage, arranged her mothers care, and set off to work at the local farm. What else could she do without a trade or diploma, especially in the village? Farm hands were always needed.
Emily was never squeamishloved animals, worked hard. Knowing one wage wouldnt be enough, she began keeping a few hens and goats. What options did she have?
So life went on. Emily helped Claudia as much as she could. After Claudia lost her husband, shed nearly lost her wits. Her son was away, rarely sent word except for the odd money order or inquiry after her health. All Mrs. Smith knew was that Lucy had borne him two childrena boy and a girlthough Claudia had never seen her grandchildren. Whether Lucy refused to return, or George struggled to scrape by, no one knew. George was a lorry driver, always on the road, trying to earn a living. Claudia could read between the lines of her sons lettershe never complained, but she could tell he was struggling.
Perhaps it was worry for her son, or something else, but Claudia took to her bed. Emily managed to get her a place in the county hospital, visited as often as she could, and wept quietly all the way home. The doctors gave little hope.
Mrs. Smith wrote to George as soon as Claudia was taken away, but whether the letter was lost or he simply wouldnt come, who could say. Not only did he fail to appear, he sent not a word. Mrs. Smith wrote again, then told Emily:
Hes turned his back on his mother. A right one he is, the cuckoo that sings louder in the night. And to think I thought he was a decent man!
Granny, hold on now! You always taught me not to blacken someones name until youre sure, and even then, best not to. It keeps your own soul clean. Hell have to answer to his own conscience. What else can we do?
I dont know, love. I just never imagined hed treat his mother so. He was always so caring, doted on Claudiawheres it gone?
Why do you call him the sweet wrapper?
Oh, thats a tale from years back. Another reason I never thought hed turn out so thoughtless.
He was just a little lad, six or seven. Children used to collect sweet wrappers thenthey were as good as treasure, with so few sweets about. Chocolates were rare treats, sometimes not seen from payday to payday. Any wrappers you owned, you cherished, traded only for something truly precious.
Claudia used to keep show henstwo fine white ones with crests like little crowns, she doted on them, her pride and joy. Then disaster! Georges friend had a doga pure breed, rough as anything. George once invited the lad over, and he brought the dog. The poor hens didnt stand a chance.
Grannysurely not…
Yes, my dear, both gone. Claudia wept bitterly, wouldnt speak for days. Georgedo you know what he did?
What?
He gave away every wrapper he owned to another friend, whose father often went up to London. He begged to go along, cracked open his piggy bank (hed saved for a new bicycle) and brought his mother a show hen just like the ones shed lost.
Thats wonderful!
More than wonderful. Claudia was overjoyednot just because her dream came true, but because her son showed he had a good heart. Whats happened now, Emily? Where does kindness go?
What sort of son was it who failed his ailing mother? Was that right?
But Mrs. Smith was lost for words a week later, when Claudia was brought back from hospital. Emily, after haggling with the local nurse, had found a way to bring her home.
What choice was there? They couldnt wait longer, yet couldnt commit Claudia anywhere without consent from her family.
George arrived unexpectedly. By that time, Emily was already managing both patientsdealing first with her mother, then hurrying round to see Claudia. There was always work enough, but she coped. Mrs. Smith protested, fretting that Emily would wear herself out, but how could she abandon someone, especially Georges mother?
Emily was scrubbing the floors at Claudias when the hall door banged and a small boy dashed into the newly cleaned room, leaving muddy footprints, came up to Emily and solemnly asked, Are you my mummy?
The question was so honest and simple, Emily froze, cloth in hand.
A neighbour… George appeared, a little girl holding his hand. Sorry for blowing in so late. Its my fault. Max was in hospital and I couldnt leave him. And Millies too little to be left.
But what about Lucy? Emily blurted out, regretting it instantly.
What business was it of hers?
Shes gone. Left us. Went off with her new husband. Im on my own now.
Not really, Emily murmured, casting a look at the two children, the girl clinging to him, so like George.
True enough. I dont know what Im saying. Is she asleep? He nodded at the bed, kneeling to pull off his daughters boots.
Shes asleep. Poor things worn out. The doctors say the rest will help. But she used to be so active, your mothernever still for a minute. Now just lying there.
Backs sore with all this lying! called Claudia, and Emily hurried to tidy up so she could get homeGeorge was there now, her work was done.
She left a saucepan of homemade noodle soup and milk out for the children, then rushed off, too exhausted even to say goodbye.
Emily thought her heart must have quieted for George over the years, but she was wrong. Now the fear grewhe was no longer the cheeky boy pulling her pigtails over the fence, nor she the blushing girl on the other side. Time had changed them both.
A day later, Claudia told Mrs. Smith, whod hobbled across to visit, that she wanted to ask her son to take her to a nursing home.
Mrs. Smith was so outraged she wouldnt hear another word. She stormed onto the front porch, called George over, spat at his feet, and hobbled away. She wouldnt even let Emily speak in his defence.
Dont make excuses for him! Hes old enough now. What sort of man packs his own mother off to the poorhouse? She broke down into tears.
Emily, still in her faded housecoat, slippers on, ran across the gardens to Georges door.
George! Where are you? she flung the door open, wild and beautiful like spring itself. What are you thinking? Youre not putting Auntie Claudia anywhere! Dont even try! Ill manage both the invalids if I have towhat difference does it make?! Well put another bed in Mums room, and thats that! And you I always
Emily faltered, noticing Claudia smiling, dabbing her eyes, and George grinning mischievously.
All riled up! Calm yourself, Em! Claudia cleared her throat. Hes not packing me anywhere! It was me who wanted it. I didnt want to burden my son. And your granny only got half the story, and got herself in a state!
Im staying. Where would I go? said George.
Really? Emily glanced at the packed bag. So whats all this?
I still need to go home for a bitsettle things at work, fetch my things. I dont know how long Ill be, and the kids have to come. I already arranged for the nurse to check on Mum for a while.
Then Emily showed her true colours. She stood before George, looked him in the eye, and announced, No need to drag the children about. Theyll stay with me. And Ill wait for you. Understand?
I do George gazed at her as if seeing her for the first time. How ever did I overlook you, Em? How?
Get your eyes checked in London while youre at itwho knows what else you havent seen Emily picked up the little girl. Come along, lets visit Granny Smithshes making pies. Do you like pies? Good, so do I!
Years on, George would wheel Claudia and his mother-in-law out onto the porch.
Careful now, dearslook at the deck chairs I brought from London! Sit or lie as you please, all in the fresh airlovely, right?
Hed help Claudia settle, listening keenly.
The little ones are up! Emilys not back yet. Best go check what theyre up to.
Will Emily be home soon?
Its her last exam today. Said shed be one of the first to finish, so shell be home soon enough.
A motor would purr at the gate, and the cluster of grandchildren, perched in the old cherry tree picking fruit at Granny Smiths bidding for summer jam, would tumble to the ground, shouting,
Mum! Mums home!
And Emily, no longer the timid girl who once stammered before George, would gather her tousled brood in a hug, wink at her husband,
A star grade, five of five!
As if Id ever doubted you! George would nod, heading inside.
The twins took after Emilysensible, but they hated waiting, just like George.
All of themstill sweet wrappers, the lot!
