Well, heres the thingsoon well have guests over, and you lot need to make yourselves scarce.
Right, soweve got company coming, and youll have to pop off somewhere. You get it, yeah? Cant have a proper do with you about.
But where on earth are we supposed to go, son? Mum asked, frowning. We dont know a soul in this town.
Dunno, do I? Mrs. Wilkins from the village used to invite you round, didnt she? Go there.
Victor and Margaret had regretted a thousand times over listening to their son and selling their little cottage. Sure, life there had been hard, but it was *theirs*. They were masters of their own home. And here? They tiptoed around their own room, terrified of upsetting their daughter-in-law, Katherine. Everything about them irritated herthe way they shuffled in slippers, sipped tea, even *chewed*.
The only person in that flat who actually wanted them around was their grandson, Tim. A tall, handsome lad, mad about his grandparents. If his mother so much as raised her voice in front of him, hed shut her down quick. Their son, Adrian? Either too scared of his wife or just couldnt be botherednever stood up for them.
Tim even had dinner with them when he could. But he was rarely home, busy with his internship, staying in a dorm near work. Only came back on weekends.
The old couple lived for those visitspure joy. And now, with New Years Eve around the corner, Tim turned up early, just to wish them well. He brought them each a pair of cosy socks and glovesknew they were always cold. Plain ones for Granddad, embroidered for Gran.
Margaret pressed the gloves to her face and burst into tears.
Gran, whats wrong? Dont you like them?
Oh, love, theyre perfect. The loveliest things Ive ever had. She hugged him tight, and Tim, like hed done since he was a boy, kissed her palms. Her hands always smelled of somethingapples, pastry, warmth, love.
Right, you twojust hang in here without me for three days. Lads trip, then Ill be back.
You go on, love, Gran said. Well manage.
Tim packed his bag, said his goodbyes, and left. The old couple retreated to their room.
An hour later, Katherine started screeching at Adrianguests were coming, and the *oldies* were still there. An embarrassment. Where were they supposed to *put* people?
Adrian mumbled something about not knowing where to send them, but Katherine wasnt having it.
The pair sat frozen, too scared to even make tea. Victor dug out some biscuits from his secret stash, shared them silently with Margaret. They ate by the window, chewing quietly, afraid to speak. A tear trembled in Margarets eye. Was this really what it came to? Being a burden in your own family?
As dusk fell, Adrian trudged in.
Right, bit of a situationweve got guests coming. Youll need to clear out.
But where, son? Weve got nowhere to go.
How should I know? That old neighbour in the villagewhats-her-nameinvited you once. Go there.
Its *New Years Eve*! No buses, no idea where the station even *is*
Dunno, do I? Kat says youve got an hour.
Adrian left. Victor and Margaret just stared at each other, swallowing tears. They packed quietlyeven Tims gifts came in handy. Bundled up, stepped out into the cold.
People rushed past, busy with their own lives. Margaret took Victors arm, and they shuffled toward the park, stopping at a tiny café for tea and sandwichesfirst proper bite all day.
They lingered, dreading the bitter night. The park had a little gazebobetter than nothing. Huddled tight, Margaret studied her gloves. Victor sighed.
At least our Tims got a heart, unlike his parents.
Promised him wed manage, Gran whispered. Didnt last long.
Snow fell. Lights twinkled in windows. Inside, families sat down to see the old year out. Thena dog. A cheerful little spaniel, whining, paws on Margarets knees.
Well, hello! Lost, are you?
A voice called out*Lord! Whereve you got to?*
The girl spotted them. Oh! Sorry about Lordhes harmless. Have you been here long?
Margaret smiled weakly. Lovely dog.
Why arent you home? Its freezing, andoh. She understood. Youve nowhere to go, have you?
Lord wouldnt leave Margarets side, wagging madly.
Right, were not staying here. Come with me.
Oh, love, we couldnt
Nope. Lord and I live aloneplenty of space. And Im *freezing*.
Too tired to argue, they followed.
At her flat, warmth, the smell of cooking. A twinkling tree. Cosy. Margaret helped lay the table. Victor played with Lord.
They saw the New Year in properly. Grateful*both* ways.
Morning came. Stay the week, Daisy insisted. Well figure it out.
Tim came home, found his grandparents gone.
Mumwhere are they?
How should I know? Left on the 31st. Couldnt have *guests* with them about, could we?
Tim *exploded*. *Youre* the disgrace, not them! He stormed out, searching streets, asking strangers. Two hours in, despair setting in
Then, a girl with a dog. And *those gloves*.
Whered you get those?
Daisy smiled. You must be Tim.
Back at hers, the smell of pancakes.
Look who we found!
Tim rushed in. Hugs, tears, tea. Plans made.
Grandparents stayed. Tim visited daily.
Once, itd just been Daisy and Lord in that big flat. Now? Always full. Always warm.
And Tim and Daisy? Wellthats another story.
Kindness, eh? It comes back. Every time.
Sometimes, all it takes is a smile. A *You alright?*
Do something good. Itll find its way home.
