“Mary, quick! I just saw your daughter-in-law at the shop. She was buying rat poison. Two packs! Said shes got mice. But I know there arent any in your house!” Marys legs nearly gave way. So thats her planto get rid of me and take the house.
“Baron, old friend,” she sighed, stepping into the yard with a bowl of porridge. “Just you and me left in this wide world.” The dog lifted his head, licked her hand gratefully, and dug in. Mary was sixty-five but looked youngerstrong, upright, her grey hair neatly styled. Only her eyes betrayed the grief she carrieddark and heavy, like a storm that wouldnt pass.
Six months ago, Daniel had died in a motorbike crash. Hed bought the bike for his fortieth birthdaysaid it was a lifelong dream. Mary had begged him not to, but what could she do? Then came the hospital call. Hed lost control on a bend.
After the funeral, Natalie took little Andrew and moved back to her parents in the city. At first, shed let him call his grandmother. Then the calls grew fewer. Mary tried to insistshe had every right to see her grandsonbut Natalie always had an excuse: Andrew was ill, she was too busy. Then she changed her number. Mary went to their old address, but the neighbours said Natalie and her parents had sold up and left town. No one knew where.
“Oi, Mary!” came a voice over the fence. “You still alive?” It was Peter, the spry seventy-year-old widower next door. He and Marys late husband had been friends, and after his passing, Peter had kept an eye on her.
“Alive and kicking, Peter,” she smiled. “Come in for tea.”
“No time for that,” he said, waving her off. “Off to town for the chemist and groceries. Need anything?”
“Im all right, thanks.”
“Suit yourself. But dont sit cooped up like an owl. Lifes for living, Mary.”
After he left, Mary wandered back inside. Photos lined the hallwayher whole life in frames. There she was with her husband on their wedding day, little Danny taking his first steps, then grown-up Daniel with Natalie and baby Andrew. All smiling. All happy.
She sighed and headed to the kitchen. The day dragged. She turned on the telly but couldnt focus. Tried knitting, but her hands wouldnt cooperate. In the end, she went to bed early, hoping sleep would bring peace.
“Mum! Mum!”
Marys eyes flew open. Daniel stood thereyoung, grinning, in that checked shirt shed given him for his birthday.
“Daniel!” she sobbed. “My boy!”
“Dont cry, Mum. I came to warn you. Be careful. Evils closeright on your doorstep. Keep safe.”
“What? What evil? Daniel!” But he was already fading into the dawn light. Mary woke in tears. Outside, the roosters crowed. The dream felt so real, like hed truly visited.
She washed her face in cold water and stepped outside. The morning air was crisp. Mist curled over the river in the distance. So beautiful it ached.
“Granny Mary! Granny!”
A little girlnine-year-old Lily, her late friends granddaughterran to the gate. Lilys parents had died in a car crash two years back, and she lived at the local childrens home. Mary visited often, bringing treats and helping with schoolwork.
“Lily, love! What brings you so early?”
“Were off potato picking at the farm. I came to say goodbyeback in a week.”
“Wait.” Mary dashed inside and returned with a bag. “Herepasties, apples from the garden, and sweets. Share with the others.”
“Thank you!” Lily hugged her tight. “I love you!”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Be careful.”
As Lily skipped away, Mary watched her go. How often shed thought of taking her in! But a pensioner living alone? Social services wouldnt allow it.
The day passed in choresweeding, feeding the chickens, cooking supper. By evening, she was knackered and turned in early. The dream returned.
This time, Daniel stood at the gate, waving frantically. “Dont let her in! Mum, dont open the door! Danger!”
Mary woke to a knock. Half ten at night. Whod come calling so late?
“Whos there?” she called, not opening up.
“Mary, its meNatalie. Let me in, please!”
Natalie? Mary opened the door. Her former daughter-in-law stood theredishevelled, clutching a big bag, clothes rumpled.
“Sorry its late. Theres been a firethe house burned down. I barely got out.”
“Good Lord! And Andrew?”
“With my parents. They took him to the seaside. Mary, can I stay? Just till I sort things out.”
Mary studied her. Natalie had never been warm, even before Daniels death. Now here she was, out of the blue.
*Dont let her in!* Daniels dream warning echoed. But how could she turn away someone in need?
“Come in,” Mary sighed. “Daniels old rooms free.”
The first few days, Natalie was quiethelped with chores, even went shopping. Mary began to doubt her suspicions. Maybe grief had changed her?
“Its lovely here,” Natalie said over dinner. “So peaceful. The citys such a rush.”
“Plenty of room,” Mary said. “Stay as long as you need.”
But a week later, Natalie stopped helping. She lazed on the sofa, glued to her phone, demanded special meals.
“Mary, could we move the telly to my room? Its a hassle coming to the lounge.”
“Take the one from my roomI never watch it.”
“You should check the house deeds. Might be errors. I used to work at a solicitorsI could help.”
Mary stiffened. Why would Natalie care about deeds?
“No need. Everythings in order.”
Natalie scowled and left. That night, Daniel visited again in Marys dream.
“Mum, shes up to no good. Be careful. Dont eat or drink what she prepares.”
“Daniel, what do I do? Shes Andrews mother!”
“Andrews safe. *Youre* not. Remember.”
Next morning, Mary woke with a splitting headache. Natalie was already in the kitchen.
“Morning! Porridges ready, coffees brewing. Sit down.”
“Thanks, later. Chickens first.”
Outside, Mary puzzled over it all. Was Natalie really plotting something? Then Peter appeared at the fence.
“Alright, Mary? Youve gone quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
“Heard Natalies back. Hows that?”
“Says her house burned down.”
Peter frowned. “Odd. I was in town yesterdayran into Nick from her old firm. Says she was sacked six months back for theft. And no fire. She was shacked up with some bloke till he chucked her out. Now shes latched onto you.”
Mary went cold. The dreams were real. Daniel *had* warned her.
“Thanks for telling me, Peter.”
“Watch your back with her, love. Shes trouble.”
The next days, Mary stayed vigilantcooked her own meals, kept an eye on Natalie, who grew bolder. She rearranged the house, invited friends over.
“Mary, this place is huge. Why not rent rooms? Extra income.”
“I dont need income. I need peace.”
“Peace, peacelive a little! You could even remarry. Peters singleyoure widowed. Perfect match!”
Mary said nothing but noted: Natalie wanted her gone.
The answer came unexpectedly. One morning, Peter rushed over.
“Mary, quick! Saw Natalie at the shopbuying rat poison! Two packs! Said youve got mice. But there *are* no mice here!”
Marys legs wobbled. So *that* was her plan.
“What do I do, Peter?”
“Play dumb. But be ready. If anythings off, come straight to me.”
That evening, Natalie was oddly sweet.
“Mary, I baked apple pieyour favourite. And herbal tea.”
“Thanks, dear. Set it outIll be right there.”
Upstairs, Mary texted Peter: *Its starting. Be ready.*
In the kitchen, Natalie poured teatwo cups. Pie sat sliced on a plate.
“Sit downitll get cold.”
Mary sat but didnt drink.
“You know, Natalie, Daniel visited me last night.”
Natalie flinched. “Oh?”
“Warned me about danger. Said someone meant me harm.”
“Dreams are just dreams,” Natalie laughed nervously. “Drink upits cooling.”
“Waitneed sugar.”
Mary stood, pretending to fetch
