AUNTIE
Auntie Pat arrived from the countryside, swept in with a flurry of faded tweed and tales of hens and harvest. She was getting too old to keep up with the farm, so niece Lydia brought her home to the city, to their snug London flat.
Her husband, Alec, didnt object. He was gentle and spare, glasses perched on his nose, forever guided by Lydias boisterous, full-blooded presence that seemed to fill the flat.
Shes not a stranger. She is my aunt, after all. Shes childless, and now Im motherless. My mum was thirty years younger than Aunt Pat, born to Dad in his second marriage. Lifes strange, isnt it? Mum left too soon. Poor Auntie! Lydia declared, voice echoing over the kettle.
Lydias children, Charlie and Poppy, blinked at the unfamiliar aunt. Truth be told, Lydia herself had only met Pat a handful of times. Theyd never rung each otheronly handwritten letters, yellowed and brimming with countryside wisdom. Aunt Pat knew nothing about modern gadgets; her world was ink and paper.
Now she was there, peering up at the city sky. A small woman, almost gnome-like (even thirteen-year-old Charlie stood taller), her hair wild and fluffy as a dandelion, a pillbox hat perched on her head, and eyes shockingly blue, looking impossibly young.
Clutched in her hands were a cloth bundle and a string shopping bag straight from some bygone era, plus two battered suitcases. Nestled in her arms sat a ginger cat, luxuriant and unimpressed. He leapt to the carpet and began prowling the unfamiliar flat.
This is Clementine. Hes come with me. Forgive me, a furry soul is all I need, Aunt Pat explained, her voice like wind through hedgerows. Look at you! My very own!
They feasted that evening, with old preserves and jams Aunt Pat had lugged from the shires. Lydia gawked as her normally finicky children stuffed their mouths with strawberry jam, crunchy pickles, and chutney.
Lydia! Do you have a garden? Ill plant everything, even if my health isnt what it was. Youve got to grow your own! Theres nothing like it! Aunt Pat enthused.
Lydia shook her headno garden, and why bother, when everythings in the shops? No time for that; she and Alec worked all hours, barely glimpsing the children. The flat was on mortgage, payments stretching forever.
A garden is essential. Lydia, dont look at me like that. People need earth. Well buy a plot. Ill keep my eyes peeled, Aunt Pat announced, waddling off to her new room.
Keep her eyes peeled indeed We scrape by, deny ourselves every treat, and Auntie thinks were millionaires! Lydia grumbled as she washed up.
The next day, Sunday dawned slow. Alec lazed under the covers, reading his paper. Lydia, after shouting at the kids to heat up some ready meals, decided to nap a little more.
Charlie and eight-year-old Poppy already had their faces glued to their phones.
Clementine the cat sat beside them, bobbing his head as if questioning their choices. Aunt Pat entered.
What are you doing? she asked, curious as a very English robin.
Charlie and Poppy rushed to explain and to demonstrate. Aunt Pat shook her head, bemused. Then she said, We had similar things back in the village, though simpler. I never did get one myselfnever needed. Sent letters to your mother; suits me fine. Its clever, though, you can find anyone anywhere. A useful invention. But enough! Put them down and come with me!
But were playing! protested Charlie.
Where are you playing, then? Youre just sitting, not even chatting, Aunt Pat marvelled.
Were playing insidethe phone games! Poppy piped.
Aunt Pat started telling them about village gamesthen swept them off to the kitchen.
When Lydia arrived, she was stunned. On the table: a plate of golden pancakes. Charlie slurping tea, Poppy rolling dough beside Aunt Pat, making dumplings.
Mum! Look! This ones extra happy, maybe its for you! Poppy grinned.
Soon Alec wandered in, sniffing the air with contentment.
From now on, every Sunday, well all make dumplings and pancakes together. You need proper food, made with your hands! Aunt Pat proclaimed.
Its easier just to buy things these days protested Lydia, who loathed cooking.
She usually bought all things frozen or ready-made. The family didnt minduntil today.
No, mum. Lets make them ourselves. Ive never had dumplings like this! Charlie said.
Then Aunt Pat grabbed a ball of elastic, tied it between two chairs, and showed Poppy how they played skipping games in the village.
You dont play like this? she asked, baffled.
They just sit outside with their phones if they go out! This generation Alec muttered.
Not right! Real interaction is vital! Phones are useful, but theyre for calling or sending whatevers needednot for everything! Aunt Pat stated.
In the evenings, she knitted, while the cat Clementine sprawled nearby like a lord.
Mum, look! called Poppy, tugging Lydia into the hallway and then the bathroom.
Aunt Pat was stroking the side of the washing machine, murmuring, Happy International Womens Day! Long life to you, dear washing machine!
Aunt Pat, what are you doing? Lydia whispered, half-afraid shed lost her mind.
Well, its 8th of March, isnt it? Washing machines a girl; decided to congratulate her! Aunt Pat chuckled.
But its not alive. Nonsense! huffed Lydia.
All machines understand, dont say that! My mates tractor nearly got stuck oncehe stroked it and coaxed it out. And you know, old Kuzma always tells his car good wishes before driving off, calls her ‘Petunia’. You dont understand how lucky you are! We used to scrub clothes by hand, haul them to the river. Now, lookeverythings convenient, yet youre always gloomy! Phonesuseful in emergencies. Always know where a child is. Washing machine does her job, microwave heats up, everything marvellous! Aunt Pat babbled, marveling like a child at each gadget.
Soon, she started picking the kids up from school.
Charlie had trouble in class one day. He never told his parents, just wept quietly in the corner, until Aunt Pat barged in. Before he knew it, hed spilled everything to her. Next day, he skipped the first two lessons. The house was oddly silent, even Aunt Pat missing.
Perhaps shes gone for a walk, Charlie thought, and readied himself.
Near his class, he heard a familiar voicepeered through the door. The teacher sat quietly. And at the board, Aunt Pat was talking with deep enthusiasm.
Oh no! Shes here, theyll laugh at me! Charlie pressed to the door.
But no one laughed. When the lesson ended, classmates crowded round Aunt Pat. Charlie edged inside. Peteythe main instigator, source of trouble for Charliestrode up.
Hey, why were you late? Your grannys amazing! She told us loads! I wish I had a gran. I miss mine so much Tomorrow yours promised to take us to the park. She knows loads about plants and animals. Speaks so well! Teacher let her present, Petey grinned.
Yeah Shes like that! Charlie laughed and dashed over to hug Aunt Pat.
That evening, Lydia wepttired from everything. And Aunt Pat was beside her.
Dont cry, love. Whats wrong? Everythings in place, why tears?
Im exhausted! Work all the time, dont see life. Alecs too gentle, other men seem real I feel faded, out of fashion, Lydia sobbed on Aunt Pats shoulder.
Aunt Pat let her cry, poured tea, then spoke of how shed lost three children as babes, her strong handsome husband took early, how shed battled illness, wasting away yet fought through pain and hunger.
Whats this trend for judging people? Every soul is made differently. Some thin, others rounded. Tastes change, Lydia. Once plump ladies were the rage! Youre wonderful! Your hair curls naturally, your blue eyes big as the sea. Appreciate what you have. Others have nothing. So many lonely people! Alecs goldenloves you, all for family. Your kidsa blessing! As for the rest Itll sort out. I almost forgot somethingtime for bed! Aunt Pat wandered off, leaving Lydia in the kitchen.
She no longer wanted to cry. Auntie was right; she had everything.
Next day, Lydia waited for Alec (she finally had time off). He was missing.
Children! Did Dad call you? Where are you? she asked.
Charlie mixed something in a bowl. Hed suddenly taken an interest in cooking, flipping pancakes in mid-air.
Poppy built a house from chairs, hung sheets, and set up teddy bears.
Their phones sat untouched on the shelves. Lydia noticed they only answered calls these days.
Lydia called Alec over and over but only got, The number you dialed is unavailable.
Then panic struck. Where was Aunt Pat? No shuffling slippers, no soothing voice.
She rushed to Aunt Pats room. Clementine stretched lazily on the bed.
Charlie! Poppy! Wheres Auntie Pat? Lydia gasped.
The children ran in.
We came home with her. Then she left, whispered Poppy.
How long ago? How long? Lydia shrieked. Poppy nodded and wept.
Oh heavens! We bought her a mobile, but she left it again! Shes so old, how could she?! Lydia sat, powerless.
Charlie sped to put on his coat.
Where are you going? Lydia followed.
To search! Mum, we cant lose her! he shouted, racing downstairs.
Poppy slipped on trainers and chased him.
Lydia dressed hurriedly, followed outside.
They stood by the entrance, beaming.
Whats going on? Lydia asked.
They pointed to the left.
Coming down the path, arm in arm with Alec, was Aunt Pat, in her hat adorned with poppies.
Auntie! You scared us! Hours without a word. And youwhere have you been? Lydia hugged Alecs shoulder.
Weve been shutting up your leaky whatchamacallit water pipe! Aunt Pat announced.
What? How? was all Lydia managed.
Surprise! Aunt Pats the hero hereshe saved us! Alec laughed.
Auntie Where did you get the money? You shouldnt have Lydia began.
Well, first, I saved. My pensions quite good. Owned my own farm, spent hardly anything. Eggs, milk, baked my own bread. Second, I sold my cottage. What would I need money for? Can’t take it to the grave. Was going to leave it to you anyway, but better to give it nowits more useful, Auntie Pat said plainly.
Lydia was silent. Now she wouldnt have to work two jobs. More time for the family. What a miracle!
Tomorrow were off to see country houses. Alec and I have already picked out a cottage! Aunt Pat beamed.
A house of our own! Hooray! And you promised to teach us about fireflies, basket weaving, and glass flower secrets to bury and dig up again! the children cheered, hugging Aunt Pat.
Together, arms around each other, they walked home.
Lydia lingered a moment, gazing up through the London clouds.
Thank you. Thank you for Auntie Pat, she whispered.
