It must have been many years ago now, when Mary brought her beau back to the village and he surprised her with a stipulation
Young Andy spotted the coach rumbling down the gravel lane that led through the village, and, abandoning his football, he tore off towards the bus stop at full tilt. His checked shirt flapped open and his floppy fair hair whipped in the wind.
All I could think was, ‘Mum, Mums home,’ Andy would later recall.
But when the coach finally juddered to a halt and Mary stepped off, she wasnt alone. Beside her walked a rather plump man in a pale grey suit, swinging a briefcase with authority. He kept close to Mary and looked every bit the important gentleman.
Andy rushed to his mother and grabbed her hand, beaming up at her with unhidden delight.
Hullo, love, his mother said, kissing the crown of his head.
Well, hello, lad! boomed the man, ruffling Andys hair with a great paw of a hand. The greeting knocked Andy off balance.
Come, lets go inside, said Mrs Edith Smith, Marys mother, beckoning with respect.
Much obliged, much obliged, madam, returned Mr Arthur Powell grandly, glancing at the table overflowing with country fare.
Now this is what I call a village spread! he declared, gesturing at the dishes. Back in London, its all ration books and shortages, you knowcountry folk still have their own meat.
And our own milk and thick cream, Mrs Smith added, almost singing, and the veg, all home-grown.
As long as we can, we keep our own, said Mr John Smith, Marys father, a quiet, wiry man whod worked his whole life on the farm driving the harvester.
Arthur straightened his thinning hair and grinned, Well, were not so badly off ourselves. Rations or no, my sister works at the depotI can get a few treats on the sly now and then, keeps Mary well-supplied with delicacies.
Andy watched the stranger, pondering how to get his attention. In the city, where Andy lived with his mother, went to school and played with his mates in the yard, hed always looked with curiosity at his friends fathers, wondering what his own dad was like. Sometimes hed imagine trips to the zoo, kicks-about in the park. Maybe his father was like Billy Carter’s dad, or Stevie Hawkinsor perhaps nothing like them at all.
Now, seeing this round-bellied gent beside his mother, Andy wondered if, since hed come to the village, perhaps this man would become his dad.
Clutching the wooden aeroplane his granddad John had carefully shaped, sanding the wings to mimic a real model, Andy approached Arthur, cheeks flushing. Look, see this aeroplane Ive got! he said, holding out the toy.
Jolly good! Arthur took it and, with a showy flick, spun the propeller Granddad had made to turn. With a careless whack, the propeller snapped off and rolled to the floor.
A flimsy toy, this, Arthur sniffed, handing it back to Andy.
Andy stooped to pick up the broken bit, glancing at his grandfather.
Well fix that, no trouble, said Granddad.
Arthurs a manager, you know, Mary offered breezily, changing the subject. Runs the garage at the factory.
Arthur puffed out his chest, nodding, Thats right.
Thirty-year-old Mary worked as a seamstress at a textiles factory. It was her first time planning to marry, and she took comfort that her fiancé was a sensible, older man, and held a respectable post. She nudged more fried fish and pancakes with clotted cream across to Arthur.
Stepping out onto the porch, Arthur spread his arms wide: Isnt it a picture? And the air, just smell that!
Do you like it here, Arthur?
Like it? Marvellous!
Then well rest and take in the air, and tomorrow well head for town; wed best get Andys school uniform sorted, said Mary.
Hold on, love, Arthur replied, whats the point of taking the boy into the city? Isnt there a village school here?
Yes, but its only a little primary
Well, let him finish his year here, no harm done. Well fix up our place, get some decent furnitureyour stuff is all antique, he commented.
Edith Smiths face tightened as she glanced at her husband, who bristled visibly at the suggestion.
Hows that going to work, Arthur? Thered be transferring schools, moving his things from the city
Whats to pack for a lad? Hell thrive here: fresh air, milk, berries, veghell shoot up like a weed. Your folks can mind him while we get on. With both of us working, weve little time for him in London. Good for him to do a year here. While we set up home. Dont you think so, Mary?
Thats not a suggestion, thats a demand, muttered John, bristling his moustache.
The next morning, while Mary tried to explain to her son why hed stay behind, Andy just nodded, silent and tight-lipped. When Mary and Arthur headed for the coach, Andy was nowhere to be found.
Edith searched the attic, her husbands shedno sign.
Hell turn up, probably running wild with his friends, Arthur waved dismissively.
Mary scanned the garden anxiously before stepping out the gate, hoping for a glimpse.
In truth, Andy was hunched in the coal shed, peeking through a crack, heart racing. He longed to dash out, to clutch his mothers hand, but he stayed hidden, feeling with a childs sharp instinct that suddenly, he was surplus since this new balding man had arrived.
He clung to his broken aeroplane, tears streaking his face. Andy wasnt the weepy sort; he hadnt cried even when Granddad walloped him for unmooring the rowing boat and nearly floating away down the stream. He knew Granddad never punished unfairly. But now, with no one scolding or touching him, the tears came unbidden, and he rubbed his eyes, embarrassed.
Hes turned up! cried Grandma when Mary and Arthur had long since left. Dont fret, love; Mum will visit next month, she promised. Meanwhile, well get your uniform at the district shopyou like it here with us, dont you?
Andy hung his head, his fair hair flopping forward. Thoughts of his classmates and friends in the city pricked at him. Of course, he loved his summers with Grandma and Granddad; hed always known that as autumn drew close, he would return to the cityhis second home.
A week roared by. Lost in games with the village boys, Andy started to forget the sting of being left behind.
One afternoon, Edith nearly dropped her bucket in surprise to see Mary coming through the gate.
We werent expecting you, love!
Mary sank onto a bench, exhausted. Said Id be back in a month, came in a fortnight. Ive come for Andy.
Whats happened? Wed arranged for him to stay. Has Arthur had second thoughts?
Its me, Mum. I thought it overno ones taking my son from me. Turns out Arthurs been round to see that accountant, Sally Simms, from the officetaking her treats from his sisters depot, no less. Shes childless. And mehe calls my Andy ‘part of the package,’ says he only wants me if Andy stays behind here. Puts it as his condition!
Edith gazed sadly at her daughter. She wanted nothing more than happiness for Mary, but not like this.
Perhaps its for the best, dear.
It is, Mum. Ill take Andy, get him a new satchel and uniform, settle him into Year Two. Well get onjust the two of us. Never did lack for food, and we still wont. I didnt need all Arthurs groceries; I wanted a family, a husband for myself, a father for Andynothing more.
Andy himself appeared then, hovering at the end of the path. Spotting his mother, he forgot his old resentment, flinging himself at her feet.
Mum!
My boy! Ive missed you so. Mary clasped him tight, drinking in the sun-browned face. Ive come to take you home. Youll be off to school soon.
Andy looked up, wide-eyed.
Well live as before, Andy. Youll go to school, Ill help with your homework, youll join a club and the football team, like you wanted.
Eagerly, Andy stuffed ever more into his rucksack, hoping to spare his mothers bigger bag from being too heavy.
Careful, love, youll only tire yourself.
No I wont! Im strong!
Granddad and Grandma walked them right to the coach stop. The bus, headlights gleaming, swung onto the dusty verge and came to a halt, doors yawning open. Andy pressed himself to the window, waving at his grandparents until they disappeared from sight.
He kept the wooden aeroplane with him, now mended by Granddad, glancing every so often at his mother. As he rode towards the city, Andy felt it as a certainty in his small heart: he was going home, and pride and simple happiness filled him, knowing the one person who mattered most was there beside himhis mum.
