Pensioner Margaret (or Maggie, as everyone called her) heaved a weary sigh as she gingerly rolled onto her other side. Her joints ached, and her legs were so swollen even her trusty slippers seemed like a size too small. Shed had quite enough of traipsing round hospitals and was utterly spent from all the prescriptions and check-ups.
She lived alone, never married, and her son was the result of a youthful romance many moons ago. The house was silent, until a sudden, urgent knock at the front door startled her from her thoughts. With a huff and a painful hobble, Maggie made her way to answer.
On the doorstep stood her son, Philip, and his wife Sarah. Tucked behind their legs was her four-year-old grandson, Alfie, clutching a toy car with chubby little hands. And beside themwas an absolutely enormous dog.
Mum, thisll be quick. Were popping back to London. Alfie and Meatball are staying with you, just for five days, tops! Well fetch them soon as were back, Philip said, as if he was merely discussing the weather.
ButIm not well. I barely walk, I was all Maggie could manage, as she clung to the doorframe for support.
We wouldnt bother you, honestly. But dragging a child and a dog on an eight-hour drive is impossible. My motherwell, shes gone now, Sarah said, before tears overcame her and she buried her face in Philips shoulder.
Soon, Alfie joined in with sniffles, and even the dog let out a mournful sigh. Maggie realised with a jolt: there was no one else.
The illness had crept up on her six months ago.
Maggie had just turned sixtyhardly ancient by modern standards. Still, everywhere you looked, folks her age were shuffling around with walking sticks and muttering about their backs. When your body decided to let you down, it often did so with little warning.
She also knew that Sarahs mother, Irene, had passed away suddenlynot much older than Maggie herself. Sarahs father, John, had been gone for years. Now, her only daughter-in-law left motherless. Life, it seemed, was neither fair nor predictable.
Philip and Sarah were soon off, leaving Maggie alone with her grandson and Meatball the dog.
Alfie snuggled into the giant dogs furry side, and Meatball responded by giving him a thorough face-wash.
Alfie Does he bite? He looks positively terrifying! Whatever happened to getting a nice poodle? What on earth is he? gasped Maggie as she sized up the canine behemoth.
Hes an English Bulldog, Grandma. Hes lovely. And hes called Meatball cos he likes meatballs! Hes very friendly, Alfie beamed, stroking the dog affectionately.
And you have to take him for walks? Maggie felt a mild panic rising as she pressed her hand to her chest.
Apart from the odd cat (none of whom had stuck around these last few years), shed never been responsible for anything much bigger than a budgie.
She just didnt see how sheaching and practically glued to her sofawould cope with a lively small boy and what might as well have been a pony in disguise.
Meatball needs his dinner! He likes sausages, and porridge, and lots more. Lets go out, Grandma! Its walkies oclock! Alfie announced with the gravitas only a four-year-old can, before wrestling his boots onto the wrong feet.
Maggie couldnt even remember what shed thrown on as they finally shuffled outside. Alfie shoved the dogs lead into her hand and took her own with the other. And off they went.
She hadnt been outdoors in a weekjust felt too rotten. But now, what choice did she have? Through gritted teeth, with watery eyes, she trudged on. She muttered silent prayers for a smidgen of strength. Who else would help them if she didn’t? Alfie and the dog needed her now.
To her surprise, Meatball trotted calmly beside them, not even flinching at the yappy terriers and frantic spaniels scuttling around the park.
Maggie started to feel something like pride, even straightening up as they passed the infamous neighbour bench, where three old dears knitted and gossiped about anyone unfortunate enough to walk by.
Got visitors, have you? You said you were ill! How are you managing with a child and that beast of a dog? Youll end up in hospital at this rate! What were his parents thinkingdumping him on you? Bet theyre off enjoying themselves in Tenerife! bellowed Mrs. Parker from Flat 12, her beady eyes twinkling with the anticipation of fresh drama.
Alfie gripped Maggies hand a little tighter. Even Meatball shot Mrs. Parker a withering look.
Pipe down, Magpies! Youre just jealous no one brings their grandchildren to see you! Alfies here because I invited himcheers the soul, doesnt it, Alfie? And for your information, the dog is a pedigree champion, so mind your business! My sons off to a funeral, not on holiday, you nosey parkers! Maggie shot back, momentarily forgetting her aching feet and surprising even herself with her feisty retort.
Once back, the seriousness returned. In the lift, Alfie peered up at Maggie with wide, worried eyes.
Grandma you wont go up to Heaven like Granny Irene, will you? Mummy and Daddy said shes living there. But now its just Grandad and her there If you float away, Ill have nobody left. Dont go, please, Grandma, dont leave me. I love you so much! Alfie burst into tears, clinging to Maggies knees.
Dont be daft, my love! Youll get sick of me, you wait! Im not going anywherealways with you! Ill take you to school, and uni, and wait for you to come back from whatever adventure you go on! Your old Grans not going anywhere, Alfie, Maggie promised, hugging him tight.
Somehow, through sheer stubbornness, she made dinner. She even hobbled to the Co-op for supplies. Every evening, out they wentMeatball padding along gamely, content as could be.
Once Alfie and Meatball were snoring, Maggie would gulp her tablets and stretch aching muscles, feeling as though shed spent the night digging the English Channel with a teaspoon. But there was no one else to depend onand Alfies words echoed in her head. His tears, his need.
“Oh Lord, please, just a little relief? Not for medo it for Alfie. He needs his Gran,” she whispered in the dark.
The next day, Maggie was down on the carpet playing cars (when did she last do that?), stirring porridge with Alfie, bathing Meatball who’d found a puddle the size of Lake Windermere. She even found herself snogging the dogwell, almost.
What an odd name for a dogMeatball! Whyd you call him that? Maggie asked, grinning as she towelled him dry.
“He loves meatballs, Grandma! His names supposed to be Thorndale, but Meatballs better, innit?” Alfie chuckled.
The days zipped by. Picture books were read, and Alfie showed his grandma how to watch fairy-tales on his tablet. They practiced letters; Alfie even started spelling out words. Meatball snoozed in the armchair, ever hopeful for a nibble of ice cream or a wedge of cheddar.
Mum, you alright? Sorry againbut we had no choice! Well need to stay a couple of days longer! I cant imagine how youre coping with Alfie and the dog, considering youre poorly Philip said over the phone, nervously.
Im managing perfectly well, thank you very much! I am a grandmother, after all! Stay as long as needed. Take care of Sarahshe needs you now more than ever. Dont worry about my health; we all get older, but theres nothing we cant handle with a bit of grit! Maggie replied, with more confidence than she felt.
When Philip and Sarah returned, theyd braced themselves for disaster: poor Maggie, barely managing to stand; how had they all survived?
Phil! Isnt that your mum? Sheswell, shes running! Sort of! Sarah exclaimed.
There she iscrikey, Mum! Phil blurted.
Out on the lawn, Maggie was awkwardly but determinedly kicking a football, Alfie squealing behind her, and Meatball romping beside them. She hadnt run in a centuryshed barely walked last month!
When it was time to leave, Alfie clung to Maggie and began to wail.
Alfie, your Gran will come see you in two weeks! Well go to the café, ride the carousel! Wait for me, wont you? Maggie hefted Alfie, her arms miraculously stronger than she remembered.
Mum! Hes heavy, be careful! Philip fretted.
Nonsense! Wait for me, Alfie! See you soon, Meatball! Well go for walks very soon! Maggie laughed and waved.
Shes my neighbour, by the way. Maggie told me this story herself. Truly, shed been barely able to totter, so ill she was. Thenjust like thatshe began bustling about, leaving the whole street gobsmacked.
Alfie and Meatball cured me, you know. Some aches are still there, but thats nothing! You dont get better sat under a blanket feeling sorry for yourselfit only gets worse. Doctors and medicine have their place, but sometimes all you need is a bit of love. I thoughthow would my grandson and that silly dog cope without me? If I let myself give up? So I got up! I got going because they needed me!
Whatever aches and pains gnawing at you, go onget moving! For those little trusting hands of your grandchildren. Thats the real magic in life.
For your children, for your partners, for your pets toothey all need you.
Say a prayer for a bit of help, grit your teeth, and crack on. Theres nothing a person cant manage when it matters.
Most importantly, enjoy each day and keep your chin up! Maggie advised everyoneold and young!
If youve enjoyed this tale, pop a comment below and dont forget to give it a likeit spurs me on to share more little stories like this!
