Mum has finally retired. Its been a couple of years now. Im exhausted, she says. My healths shot, the job was stressful, the office was toxic, and Im getting on a bit now. I just want to live for myself for once, not run around for everyone else.
No one ever argued with Mum. Shes the sort of woman you simply dont disagree with, and thats that.
So now shes settled into her cottage in Kent, and shes living her best lifegrowing roses and cucumbers, having a cigarette out on the veranda, drinking her coffee. Sometimes its just coffee, sometimes theres a splash of brandy in it, and occasionally theres a book. Shes taken to tidying up, properly relaxing at last, remembering work with a shudder and thoroughly enjoying the fact that her grandchildren are all grown up nowno being lumped with them for the whole summer anymore.
She often shares a vital piece of wisdom with us, her descendants:
Never retire until the grandkids have finished university. Thats important. You want them independent, not taking advantage of you as soon as youre a pensioner. And as for great-grandchildrenyoull be far too old by then. Thatll be your childrens or even their childrens worry, not yours.
All in all, things in Kent turned out splendidly. Theres a post office close by, a village shop, the internet, an impressive rose garden out her window, fresh country air, calm neighbours, and a life finally free from the daily grind. After a while though, Mum started to feel a little bored. She decided it was time for a projectshed lay down some concrete in part of her big garden for a proper parking space.
It had to look presentable. Mum said the drive was rather undignified, and generally speaking, you cant just wait around for nature to take its course. Nature gave us broadband anyway. With a few clicks, she found an online construction team who seemed up for anythingas long as you paid in pounds, of course.
The day arrives. The teama crew of fiverocks up, led by a bloke named Dave. Mum just called him Davy, despite him being two metres tall and built like a bouncer. They got stuck in quickly, but something was off. Two concrete mixers sat there waiting, engines idling. Mum kept an eye on them.
And then Davy saw his chance. After all, an older lady, on her own, hiring builders for mans work; clearly, in his mind, she wouldnt have a clue. So, the lads decided to try their luck, hoping to squeeze a bit of extra cash from herafter all, shes a granny, so why not invent some problems and jack up the price?
Davy launches into a grand performance:
This cant be done like that, you seeits all wrong here, and over there, well Not how you want it. Well have to double the rate, or else we pack up and youll have to find someone else.
Mum listened patiently, nodded understandingly. You want fifty thousand, do you? Wouldnt twenty-five thousand do instead? Well, lads, I believe you. How couldnt I trust such upstanding fellows?
Then, she adds cheerfully:
Alright then. How about a bet?
A bet? Davy perks up.
Yesfor the fifty thousand. I reckon, Davy, that I can run your lot so well youll get it done not in a whole day, like you say, but in three hours flat. If you finish in time, you pay me fifty thousand. If you dont, I pay you. Deal?
Honestly, in Davys place, Id have thought twice. Even if she seemed a little eccentric, why risk it? But Davy was more confident than clever, and greed got the better of him. The bet was on.
Davy sat himself on the porch with a coffee to watch. Meanwhile, Patricia Greenauntie Pat to most, Mum to mepulled on her wellies and sprang into action.
In five minutes, shed positioned the lads perfectly; they barely had time to process how theyd become an actual dream team. She showed each one what to do, where to carry things, how to level the ground, warned them not to dawdle, and highlighted where they could speed upand where they absolutely couldnt mess things up. Even the mixer drivers got a mini masterclasswhen to pour, how to pour, to do a proper job, not just tip it out. Most importantly, she ran the operation so not a second was wasted. Everything ran like clockwork.
In short, she was a concrete goddess.
What theyd planned to stretch out all day, she sorted in barely two hours. The result? Flawless. Perfectly level, tidy, and smart.
At first, Davy was grinning, expecting her to run out of steam. The smile slowly faded, then he went pale, suddenly remembering the bet. Fifty thousand pounds, just like hed asked for.
Davy was utterly stunned, as if hed only just realised that the world doesnt always play by his rules.
Hang on, he spluttered. Tell me this How? How is that even possible?! Thats just not It cant be real!
It can, Pat replied calmly, brushing dust from her gloves. Did you see the interchange on the A2 on your way over? The big one, three levels?
We saw it Dave mumbled.
And you drove over it?
Yeah
Well done. I built that.
That was the moment, they say, Davy finally understood: sometimes a sweet old dear is just someone whos spent years working where the faint-hearted wouldnt last a day. And that arguing with such people really isnt worth your while.
