Left Alone
Outside the window, dusk crept across the garden, and still, her mother hadnt returned. Molly, spinning the wheels on her wheelchair, moved over to the table, fetched the phone, and dialed her mums number.
The number you have dialed is switched off or out of service, said a distant, metallic voice.
She gazed at the phone in confusion, then remembering shed nearly run out of credit, she switched it off and let it rest in her lap.
Mum had gone to the shops but wasn’t back yet. Nothing like this had ever happened before; she was never gone this long. After all, her little girl couldnt walk and needed constant care. It was just the two of them in the worldno other relatives to speak of.
Seven years old, Molly wasnt frightened of being home alone, but Mum always explained where she was going and when shed return. Molly now reasoned through it with a childs logic:
She went all the way to the big Sainsburys, where groceries are a bit cheaper. We used to go together sometimes. It’s not even faran hour’s walk there and back if youre quick. She glanced at the clock. But its already been four hours. My tummys rumbling.
She rolled into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. She found a cold sausage in the fridge, warmed it slightly, ate it, and sipped weak tea.
Still, her mother didnt come. She couldnt bear itshe picked up the phone and tried to ring again.
The number you have dialed is switched off or out of service, intoned that voice once more.
She retreated to bed, tucking the phone under her pillow. She left the light on it felt too scary without Mum. She lay awake for a long time, but at last, sleep drifted down upon her like soft fog.
***
She awoke to sunlight peeping through the curtain. Mums bed was neatly made.
Mum? she called out, hoping her mother would answer from the hallway.
Only silence.
She dialed the number again. That same metallic, strangers voice replied. Fear swallowed her whole, and tears streamed down her face.
***
Miles away, Christopher ambled home from the bakery café. Every morning began the same: his mother cooked breakfast while he nipped out to fetch fresh pastries. Christopher, past thirty now and still living with his mum, found the world a chilly place. The women barely gave him a second glanceawkward, thin, always pale and unwell since childhood. Expensive treatments were needed, but his mum raised him alone. As an adult, Christopher learned the final blow: hed never father children. In time, he stopped expecting marriage altogether.
As he walked, a battered old mobile phone glimpsed at him from the grass. Phones and computers were both his passion and his vocation; he was a programmer and wrote a tech blog in his spare hours. Of course, he boasted the latest gadgets, but curiosity made him pick up the battered device. The phone looked badly crushed, as if a car tyre had brushed it aside.
Something might have happened… The stray thought made him slip the phone into his coat and walk on. Ill see about it at home.
***
After breakfast, Christopher took the SIM card from the ruined phone and slotted it into his own. Most contacts were official-looking: the hospital, the benefits office, that sort. The first one, though, was saved as daughter.
He hesitated, then rang the number.
Mum? The delighted voice of a little girl sparkled down the line.
Im not your mum, he stammered, at a loss.
Wheres my mum?
Im not sure. I found this broken phone, put the SIM in mine, and hoped to reach her.
My mums gone missing. The words turned to sobs. She went out to the shop yesterday and didnt come back.
Wheres your dad, or your gran?
I dont have a dad. Just my mum.
Whats your name? It was clear the child needed help.
Molly.
Im Uncle Chris. Molly, could you leave your flat and tell the neighbours youre alone?
I cant my legs dont work. And the next flat is empty.
Wait, what do you mean your legs dont work? Chris felt a flicker of panic.
I was born this way. Mum said when weve enough savings, the doctors will fix my legs.
And how do you get around?
A wheelchair.
Molly, do you know your address?
Yes. 7 Churchill Road, flat eighteen.
Im coming to you right now. Well find your mum, he promised, and ended the call.
His mother, Margaret, popped her head around the kitchen door. Chris, whats wrong?
Mum, I found a broken phone, switched the SIM to my own and, well… theres a little girl out there all alone. She cant walk and only has her mum. Ive got her address. Im going.
Im coming too, Margaret declared, instantly gathering her bag.
Shed raised her own sickly son on her own, and she knew only too well what it meant to battle life on behalf of a poorly child. These days she was retired, and Chris earned a good living.
Together, they called a cab and set off to rescue the child.
***
They pressed the buzzer.
Who is it? Mollys small, sorrowful voice came through the speaker.
Molly, its meChris.
Come in!
Up the stairs they found the door already ajar. Inside, a wisp of a girl in a wheelchair looked up at them with anxious eyes.
Will you find my mum?
Whats your mums name? Chris asked quietly.
Jane.
And her surname?
Turner.
One moment, Chris, his mother interrupted, then turned to the girl: Molly, love, are you hungry?
Yes. There was one sausage left, but I ate it last night.
Right then, Chris, nip to the shop for our usual bits.
Understood! He dashed out the door.
***
When he returned, Margaret had rustled up something warm in the kitchen, unpacked the bags, and set the table.
After theyd eaten, Chris started the search for Mollys mother. He opened the local news website and scrolled through yesterdays reports.
Lets see… On Park Lane, a driver in a Ford struck a woman. She was taken to hospital with serious injuries.
He began calling around. On the third try, someone picked up.
Yes, we admitted an unidentified woman from Park Lane yesterday. Critical conditionhasnt regained consciousness yet.
Whats her surname?
She had no papers or mobile on her. Are you a relative?
Well… not exactly…
Come down to the hospital and talk to us.
He hung up and turned to the girl.
Do you have a picture of your mum?
Yes. Molly wheeled over to the cabinet, took out a photo album. We took this not long ago.
Chris snapped a quick picture on his mobile and smiled encouragingly.
Ill go find your mum now.
***
Eyes fluttered open. A white ceiling. Slowly, memory returneda car flying towards her…
Jane tried to move; pain shot through her. A nurse approached quietly.
Youre awake?
Terror hit Jane. How long have I been here?
Two days. Try not to worry.
But my daughtershes home all alone.
Its all right, soothed the nurse, resting her hand lightly on Janes chest. Yesterday a young man came byleft a phone for you. Said someone ran over yours.
I need to call…
Of course! The nurse found the contact marked daughter and pressed dial, holding it to Janes ear.
Mummy! Molly piped up.
Oh, Molly, my darling! How are you?
Im all right! Granny Margarets here, and Uncle Chris visits too.
Whos Uncle Chris?
Dont fret, Miss, the nurse cut in. Or else Ill take the phone away for now. Lets check you over.
Jane, with the phone pressed to her ear, hurriedly promised, Ill ring back, darling, before the nurse interrupted.
After the doctor checked her over and set up a drip, the nurse slipped Janes phone into her pocket.
Please, just another quick word with my daughter? Jane whispered.
The doctor said to avoid excitement, said the nurse, but she dialed anyway.
Darling
Jane, this is Margaret, came a strangers gentle voice. Listen, please! My son found your broken phone. The SIM let us reach your daughterand you. Im retired, Ill stay and care for your Molly while youre recovering. Dont fret, love. Here, Ill pass you back.
Mum, dont worryjust get better soon! Molly replied bravely.
Listen to Granny! Jane urged, clinging to Mollys voice like a lifeline.
The nurses voice rose, firm but kind, Miss Turner, you must rest now. The call ended with her words.
***
The next day, Jane was moved to a general ward. That evening a visitor appearedthe awkward, pale man from before.
Hello, Jane. Im Chris, he grinned. Do you mind if I call you by your first name?
She shook her head, overwhelmed.
He plonked a large bag on the bedside table. HereMum packed these for you.
Chris, I hardly know you Jane started, uncertain.
I found your smashed phone. The SIM was intact. I rang your Molly, tracked you down and well, here I am.
Hows my Molly?
One moment. He fetched the old phone, fiddled with it.
Right, here you go.
The display lit up and Mollys face appeared.
Mum! Are you in pain?
No, darling, Im all right now. How are you coping?
Granny Margaret comes over every day.
Jane and her daughter talked for a long while. Chris waited patiently. At last Jane sighed.
I owe you everything.
Dont say that, Jane. And please, call me Chris.
Thank you, Chris.
Now let me show you how this phone works, he said, and gently ran through the steps.
***
A fortnight passed.
The driver responsible for the accident came to the hospital, bringing two hundred thousand pounds and his solicitor with him, by way of apology.
The next morning, Jane was discharged. Chris collected her and brought her home.
Mum! Molly squealed in delight.
If she could have flown from her chair, she would have. Jane knelt down and hugged her daughter, tears of joy streaming down her face.
She moved to Margaret. Mrs. Thompson, thank you so very much!
Oh, dont be daft, Jane, Margaret smiled. Mollys like a granddaughter now, isnt she?
Mrs. Thompson, the driver gave me this compensation. Jane fished money from her bag. Please, take sometheres no other way I can thank you.
Put that away, Jane! Margarets voice was stern. We shant starve, and you need it for Mollys treatment. Chris has already spoken to a clinic.
Mum! Molly beamed. Uncle Chris said were going to hospital so they can help my legs walk!
***
Jane and Molly spent a fortnight at the clinic. Metal pins were inserted. In three months theyd return, and again the following years. After three operations, the doctors promised that Molly would walk.
For now, the wheelchair remained, and the pins made things awkward, but hope was growing.
Fate, though, sent them another trial. Margaret became gravely unwell and was hospitalised with a failing heart.
Jane stayed at her side three nights, only going home to prepare meals and rest a little. Chris watched over Molly at night.
On the fourth day, Margaret finally regained herself. She gazed at Jane for a while, and at last spoke softly.
Love, I havent got long. Marry my Chris, will you? Hes steady and kind. Together, youll help Molly walk tall.
Oh, Mrs. Thompson, would he even want me?
A flicker of a smile. He will, my dear. He will.
***
An elderly woman walked hand in hand with a girl bearing a schoolbag and flowers. But if not for her height, youd never think the girl was starting fourth yearshe seemed so young.
It was Mollys very first proper day at school; the previous three years shed studied at home, excelling all the while. Now, for the first time, she was walking on her very own legs.
Granny, Im a bit scared, Molly admitted.
Oh, come on, Mollyyoure ten already! Look, there are your mum and dad!
Jane hurried up. Sweetheart, whats wrong? Looking so serious.
Shes nervous to go in, Margaret explained.
Give me your hand! Chris offered, palm open. Lets go, then.
With you, Dad, Im not scared at all, Molly smiled shyly.
They strolled, chatting cheerfully, towards the school gates; behind them, Mum and Gran walked together, just as happy as could be.
