The lonely caretaker found a phone in the park. Turning it on, she stood frozen for a long time.
Martha Whitmore left for work earlier than usual. On weekends, the youth always left piles of rubbish behind, so she arrived at 4 a.m. to stay on top of it. She had been a caretaker for many years. Once, her life had looked very different.
As she gripped her broom, Martha remembered her beloved son, whom she had chosen to raise alone at thirty-five. Shed had no luck with men, so she poured everything into her child. She adored her little Alfie. He was bright, handsome. The only thing that unsettled her was how much he despised their neighbourhood.
“Mum, when I grow up, Ill be a proper gentleman!” he used to say.
“Of course you will, lovehow could you not?” shed reply.
The moment he turned sixteen, he left home, moving into student halls near his college. Martha hated how far he was, but he promised to visit often.
At first, Alfie kept his word. But then he met a girl, and thoughts of home grew rare. Then one day, he returned for goodwith news that he was dying. Martha couldnt fathom why life had dealt them such a cruel hand.
She gathered every ounce of strength to fight it. The doctors suggested treatment at a private clinic, but the costs were staggering. Without hesitation, the grief-stricken mother sold her flat. One night, the call came.
“Your son is gone,” the doctor said.
Martha didnt want to live. Without Alfie, the world had lost all meaning.
One morning, as always, she went to clean the courtyard.
“Lovely weather, isnt it?” called out Samuel Whitaker, walking his dog.
“Bit early for you, isnt it?” Martha replied.
“Bored at home. Thought Id take the dog out and have a chat,” he said cheerfully.
Samuel was a lifelong bachelor. Martha flushed slightly under his attention.
“Well, well leave you to it,” he said, tugging the dogs lead as they strolled off.
Martha returned to sweepinguntil something caught her eye on the bench. A phone. She glanced aroundno one in sight. She picked it up and switched it on. Photos flickered across the screen. Someone mustve left it behind. Then she froze.
“Alfie! My boy!” she sobbed.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Startled, she answered.
“Hello? Thats my phonecan I come get it?” a womans voice asked.
“Of course,” Martha managed. “Found it on the park bench. Ill give you the address.”
The girl arrived shortly. When the door opened, Martha spotted a boy standing behind her.
“Tell me,” she whispered, “why do you have pictures of my son?”
“Ethans pictures?” the girl frowned.
The boy stepped inside.
“Alfie!” Martha gaspedthen collapsed.
The boy rushed to her side. “Whats wrong?”
“She mustve mistaken you for someone,” the girl said. “We should call an ambulance.”
Fifteen minutes later, the paramedics revived her. Once they left, Martha finally learned how her sons face had ended up on that phone.
Still shaken, she looked at the girl. “Do I know you? How did you get these pictures?”
“Im Lily,” the girl said. “I used to date your son. He left when he found out I was pregnant,” she admitted heavily.
“Left? He never mentioned you,” Martha said.
“We were together for months. When I told him about the baby, he vanished. I thought he was scared.”
“No, Lily. Now I understand. My boy was ill. He didnt want to burden anyonenot even you. Alfies been gone for years.” Marthas voice broke.
Lilys eyes widened. “Gone? What do you mean?”
“He passed. I sold everything trying to save him. But it wasnt enough.”
Lily exhaled shakily. “So he was trying to protect me.”
Then she turned to the boy. “Ethan, come here.”
He stepped forward.
“Yes, Mum?”
“Ethan, remember how I told you your dad left us? That wasnt true. He was sickhe died before you were born. And this this is your grandmother.”
Marthas heart swelled as she looked at her grandson.
“Gran,” Ethan murmured shyly.
“Oh, lovecome here.” She pulled him into her arms.
Lily smiled. “Why not move in with us? Weve got the space, and wed love to have you.”
“No, dear. This place is home. But Ill visitoften.”
Just then, a knock came at the door.
“Mind if I join?” Samuel stood there, holding a bouquet. He handed it to Martha. “Fancy a walk?”
“Absolutely,” she smiled.
Lily and Ethan peeked out from the kitchen.
“Can we come too?” they chimed.
“Only if you behave,” Samuel joked.
Two months later, Martha Whitmore became Mrs. Whitaker. His dog, Duke, adored the new family membersespecially when he got to trot beside Ethan while his grandmother baked pies for them all.
