How can you let yourself get to this point? Sweetheart, arent you ashamed? Arms and legs all working, so why arent you working? people would tut at the beggar woman with the child.
Margaret Bennett wandered slowly along the aisles of the massive Sainsburys, eyeing the shelves of colourful packaging. She came here every single day, as if it were a job. She didnt need to buy much there was no large family to feed; she didnt have one. So, the elderly woman escaped her solitude each evening and lost herself under the fluorescent glare of the supermarket.
In the warmer months, it was easier for her. Shed pass the time on a bench out front with the other old dears, gossiping about the neighbours. But winter left her no choice, and shed come to love her daily stroll around the new supermarket.
There were always people here, the air hung rich with the smell of coffee, and the gentle churn of pop songs played through the speakers. All those treats in bright, childlike wrappers delighted the eye and, oddly, lifted her spirits.
Margaret picked up a pot of strawberry yoghurt, squinted to read the label, then set it back down. Her pension did not run to such luxuries, but there was no harm in looking.
She gazed at the abundance on the shelves and began to reminisce about the old days. The endless queues in draughty shops, sales women with all the warmth of a border collie guarding rare cheese. Shopping then meant a clutch of thick brown paper bags twisted shut like precious cargo.
She smiled, remembering raising her daughter. Margaret would queue for hours to buy something to brighten Alices day. The thought of her made Margarets heart ache, and she stopped in front of the chest freezers stacked with frozen fish, leaning heavily on her cane.
Her mind conjured the image of Alices laughing face a cascade of unruly auburn hair, enormous grey eyes, a dash of freckles, and dimples deep enough to hide a penny.
She was such a beautiful thing, Margaret sighed to herself.
Under the sharp gaze of the server, she wandered over to the bakery.
Alice had been Margarets one joy. Bright, clever girl. When she realised her job brought her more migraine than meaning, shed decided to be a surrogate. Just as Margaret had predicted, that ended in heartbreak.
At twenty, who listens to their mum? Margaret often thought, had Alices father still been alive, things might have turned out differently. And those scoundrels whod drawn Alice into that arrangement how could they prey on a naive young woman?
Alice simply laughed and rubbed her round belly. And her mum would shake her head, dismayed. How could you hand over your own child after nine months? shed ask, barely able to voice it. But Alice would shrug and say, Oh Mum, its just good money to me now.
The birth was rough, and Alice didnt make it through. No one tried as hard as they should. Three days after giving birth, Alice was gone.
The baby girl went straight to her biological parents. Margaret, of course, got nothing the deal was never with her, only with her daughter.
She buried Alice and was left completely, achingly alone. No other family. The world felt hollow but, honestly, that made it easier.
Now, in the bread aisle, Margaret fished out spare coins from her pocket and headed to the tills. She made sure to buy something so it wouldnt look like she was simply wandering about for the heating. The planned sum went to the cashier, the rest remained clenched in her fist. Enough excitement for today time to head home.
Margaret had clocked the young beggar on her second day visiting the place, almost a month back. She was scoping out everything when she noticed her. What was it that drew her to the young woman? Perhaps her obvious youth, frozen posture, or the careful, protective way she held her child.
How could anyone fall so low? the old woman mused, approaching the now-familiar figure. She dropped some spare change into the battered takeaway coffee cup and sighed, Sweetheart, arent you ashamed? Youve all your wits about you; why arent you working? Youre still young.
The old woman wrinkled her nose as a few passers-by skirted around, stymied by her presence on the footpath.
Thank you for the coin, madam, the girl said quietly, but please, be on your way. I need to collect more or therell be trouble.
Margaret shook her head, both sad and frustrated, and hurried off, not wanting to read lectures no one wanted. She decided to help she was an old hand at that. Besides, no one from the council or police ever seemed to notice these things anymore. Beggars had long ago turned into wallpaper.
On her way home, Margaret couldnt shake the face of the young mother, her oddly familiar grey eyes and voice. Where had she heard that accent, that tone? She pressed herself to remember.
Closing her front door behind her, Margaret kicked off her low boots, flicked on the lights, and made her way to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later she sat with a strong, sweet tea and a bit of seeded Hovis topped with a curl of ham.
She must be starving in this weather, Margaret thought. And with a baby! What a life.
She pressed her face to her window, peering for the girl, and her heart skipped. Two scruffy men were hustling the young woman into a battered car.
Panic-struck, Margaret reached for her phone to ring the police, only to set it down, dreading shed just make things worse by interfering.
By the time she looked again, the spot outside the shop was empty. She decided to wait till the morning. She wouldnt have made out the registration number anyway.
Margaret barely slept, mulling the girl and baby over all night. In the early hours, she had a strange dream: Alice stood outside Sainsburys clutching a blue-lipped child. Margaret tried desperately to warm her, but Alice didnt react.
Im not cold, Mum, she said calmly.
Margaret pulled the child away, uncovering her face. It was a toy doll, wearing a necklace she recognised.
A necklace I know the old woman repeated as she startled awake.
Her eyes snapped to the clock on the wall. How did I oversleep? she muttered in a panic. It was gone nine a.m. She shuffled to the window.
The girl and the baby were back in their usual spot beside the automatic doors. Everything looked normal. Thank heavens, she whispered, crossing herself reflexively.
It was New Years Eve and shockingly cold. No one could stand outside long without risk.
Margaret grabbed what was left of her loaf, slapped together ham sandwiches, poured sugary tea into a flask, and dressed in woolly layers.
The girl tensed as Margaret approached, hiding a bruise under her scarf.
Dont worry, love, Margaret said, handing over the food. You shouldnt go hungry on a day like this.
The girls eyes smiled, though her mouth did not. She took the sandwiches, sat on a nearby bench, and devoured them in a hurry, barely stopping to chew. She glanced nervously at her wailing child, gulped the last of the tea, brushed away crumbs, and bustled back to Margaret.
Thanks. Thatll keep us till seven, when theyll come to fetch us, she confided.
That day, Margaret kept checking the outside thermometer, watching the mercury fall. At five p.m., she filled a jar with leftover stew, snuck it and some coins into the girls things on her way through, then hurried to buy cucumbers and gammon for her fancy New Years salad. She couldnt splash out, but, at least, she wouldnt go hungry.
On her way home, Margaret noticed both the beggar and her jar had gone. She must be eating somewhere warm, she thought, not unpleased, and made her way back, preparing snacks and sliding a carp into the oven just in case one of her equally lonely neighbours popped round.
By ten oclock, she peered out again, hoping to see the girl had gone somewhere safe and warm. Twinkling lights blinked outside the Co-Op. To Margarets surprise, she saw the girl hunched and shaking on a bench, sobbing beneath the streetlamp.
Margaret hesitated, then threw a cardigan over her shoulders, stepped into her slippers, and rushed down the stairwell. She stopped, breathless, before the young mother, then plopped down beside her.
Ive got nowhere left to go, the girl said, tears streaking her face.
Hope flickered in her sorrowful eyes as she looked at Margaret. She gently pushed her bundle the child into the old womans arms and rose, shuffling into the darkness of the main road.
Margarets mind reeled. She realised what the girl intended. Happy people dont slip away into the night like ghosts. She staggered up, heart thudding, reached her just in time, and spun her around.
Now see here! What do you think youre doing? Come with me now! Margaret declared, pointing to her small block of flats.
Back in her warm flat, Margaret quickly unwrapped the baby, placing him near the heater.
Whats your name? she asked, but immediately spotted the necklace around the childs neck a silver bear.
Following her gaze, the girl answered, Dont worry, its all I have left from my mum.
Margaret recoiled. She knew that necklace anywhere; shed had it made from a brooch the year Alice turned sixteen. Money was tight, so shed traded the brooch for a gold chain, reserved the pendant and made a small celebration for Alice at the local cafe.
The girl shrugged out of her coat, throwing Margaret a sheepish look. May I use your shower?
Margaret nodded, clutching her valerian drops. Could this beggar girl be… her granddaughter? Surely not
She settled the baby onto the settee and, when the girl reappeared, shepherded her to the table.
Alice, Margaret said softly.
How did you know? the girl asked, surprised.
Margaret waved it off. Oh, mustve overheard, she said evasively, cold sweat prickling her brow. There could be no mistaking it shed just rescued her own granddaughter. That was the name chosen years ago by the couple for the baby Alice had carried.
The girl gave her a grateful smile, her eyes lingering on the small spread and instantly started eating.
Margaret watched, searching for a trace of the past.
So, Alice, tell me what happened to you? she asked.
Seemingly relieved, Alice began to talk, her words stumbling out: Up until five, shed lived in comfort with both parents. Shed even had her own pony, she recalled, eyes dreamy with memory.
Things soured when her parents split. She lived with her mum, who one day simply dropped her off at an orphanage, signed some papers, and vanished.
Why? Alice had no idea. From fairy tale to cast-off in an instant. Twelve years in care, then out into the wild world.
She was meant to be given a council flat as a care leaver but was dumped in a condemned block earmarked for demolition. There, shed met Dave the plumber.
He vanished when he discovered she was pregnant. The building went, but she was permitted to stay until the baby came after which, her old flat was mysteriously occupied by someone else.
Shed never been equipped to fight for herself, let alone with a baby.
So, she drifted: mainline stations, underground, begging as best she could. Thats when Dodgy Pete, master of the beggars, noticed her.
Pretty beggar with a child, youll earn a packet, he said, promising a roof in return for most of the days takings.
Alice and her son lived in a grotty basement with other beggars. Some had genuine hardships, but many were actors, painting on bruises and affixing fake bellies. Top performers paid Pete handsomely. Alice, hopeless at the job and burdened with a real baby, did not.
There followed endless dreary days: dumped at different sites, picked up each evening, earnings tallied. Recently, things had soured she was told the money wasnt enough and her babys wailing was keeping the others up.
Today, Pete simply didnt show up. She was abandoned. Alice stared at her plate, defeated.
Thank you I have no idea what wed have done tonight. She yawned mightily, set down her fork. Dont fret, well be gone at first light. Just need a little kip.
With that, Alice slumped back and was asleep within seconds.
Margaret gently woke her only to lead her to bed, settling the baby nearby in a comfy chair.
Sitting quietly at her New Years table, Margaret listened to the Prime Ministers speech and smiled at her unlikely new family. Of course she wouldnt send Alice and her son away tomorrow, or the day after probably never. They could stay. Shed tell them the truth when the time was right, help Alice build a life, raise her son. Theyd both had enough turmoil for a lifetime.
At midnight, as Big Ben rang in the new year, Margaret poured herself a sip of sweet sherry. She lingered at her window, gazing out on the lamp-lit street and falling snowflakes, whispering, Thank you, Lord, for this unexpected blessing. Farewell, loneliness Ive got my family back.Somewhere in the hallway, the baby stirred, gave a frail mewl, and quieteda small, living heartbeat in the silent house. Margaret pressed her palm against the glass, warmth blooming in her chest despite the winter beyond. From the bedroom, the soft murmur of Alices breath joined the hush.
Tomorrow, there would be forms to fill, schools to research, secrets to unearth, maybe even laughtermaybe tears. For now, Margaret just drank in the music of not being alone. She turned from the window, the clink of her glass echoing softly through the flat, and tiptoed into the darkness, where the future, for once, was bright with hope.
Behind her, the first fragile dawn of the new year edged through the curtains, painting the walls with pale gold. And in its gentle light, three generations, finally under one roof, dreamed onsafe, together, home at last.
