I grew up in a large family in a little village in Yorkshire. Dad, bless him, had a penchant for the bottle, drifting from job to job, while Mum worked her fingers to the bone at the post office and kept the house running, all to keep us three kids fed.
As the eldest, I had my fair share of responsibility. I helped Mum by looking after my younger sisters, fetched water and chopped wood. When the girls grew older, they joined in with the chores, but by then Dad was gone for good anywayhed drunk himself to death, having one too many with the lads down at the pub.
Not that things got any easier after he passed. Mum would sigh and shake her head, mourning her hapless husband:
He was a drunk, true, but he never raised his voice or hand. Always brought home what little he earned. Oh Bill, you daft devil, what possessed you to leave us like this
To avoid Mums lamenting, Id slip out after finishing my work, heading to the evening gathering with the other village kids. Wed meet up at a long-abandoned cottage just beyond the last hedgerow, perching on the broad steps of the porch which, though weathered, made for perfect benches.
Wed sit there like a flock of sparrows, sharing sunflower seeds if anyone had some, and swapping storieswild fancies and tales from the day alike.
I never had a penny to buy sunflower seeds, and Mum certainly never spent money on themshe had to pinch every pound. But my neighbour and mate, Lily, always shared hers with me. She did it quietly, without fuss, slipping me handfuls into my pockets or palms, sweet, oily seeds that smelled of summer.
Ta, Id whisper, enjoying every mouthful. I always thought Lily sat a bit closer to me on purpose. At first, I was embarrassed, but soon enough it just felt right, sitting next to such a generous-hearted girl.
Still, taking something for nothing never sat well with me. So, I started popping by Lilys after school, when shed be working in the family garden. Wed exchange the usual greetings:
Folks busy at work?
Aye, both of them. Always at this hour.
Then Id kneel beside the beds and weed alongside her, chatting about school, the village, or whatever came to mind.
She never refused my help, and I think she enjoyed the company. Afterward, shed bring out a teapot and a plate heaped with biscuits and currant buns. Id make a show of refusing, but Lily was persistentI wouldnt be let go until Id had my fill.
Sweets were a rare treat in our house, maybe on birthdays or Christmas, so deep down, I was grateful for Lilys kindness.
I worked hard at my lessons, not wanting to fall behind, but it never came easy to meexcept for sports, where I outshone everyone. No surprise then that I went on to study physical education at college after school. Lily, ever caring, trained as a nurse.
We saw each other less once we grew up. Only the holidays would bring us both back to our little village. Id changedscrawny as a lad, Id filled out, all muscle now from my work at the sports centre. Lily was still as fair and blue-eyed as ever, slim and smiling, now a young woman.
She married early, forced by circumstance after tragedy struckher parents died suddenly in a car crash, and she craved comfort in a new family. When I heard shed rushed into marriage with Johna boisterous, talkative fellow from our villageI couldnt believe it. They were like chalk and cheese. Yet they made a life together and soon had a baby boy.
I took my time sorting out my own life. Much to Mums surprise, I distinguished myself at the sports academy, and before long was appointed director of a sports complex in town.
My sisters had both moved to the city, started families of their own. Meanwhile, Lily wasnt so lucky in marriageher husband took a liking to drink and vanished for days. Mum would fill me in:
Her Johns just like your poor dad. Out all nightdoesnt care for wife or child. Real heartbreak, and I know it too well.
I nearly thumped the table when I heard it.
Why on earth did she marry him? She wanted for nothing before, and now just trouble, same as what we had.
Thats life, Mum said, Hes pawned off everything she ownsher things, the family silver, even her old tapes. Someone out there is buying, knowing perfectly well what the moneys for. Disgraceful, really.
She must be in need then? Does she ask you to borrow?
Never asks, but shes scraping by. Her pays meagre and he gives nothing. Awful, really.
I paced the kitchen, mulling things over, but Mum caught my worry and scolded gently:
Dont go meddling, love. Not our place. Folks marriages are dark waters. If she stays, it must be for love.
So I sat down and told Mum how Lily had fed me sunflower seeds and sweets all those years, and that I couldnt sit idle when she and her lad were suffering.
What are you thinking, son? Mums voice was anxious. Dont you go stirring troublebetter leave the man be or youll end up in the nick. If you want to help, do it another way.
I nodded and headed back to town. Two days later, I returned with the boot of my car loaded downsacks, crates, and bags of groceries, plus a bundle of childrens clothes.
Whats this, moving home at last? Mum clucked, half-joking but hopeful.
No, Mum. Ive work and a flat in town. This is for you. Bit of shoppingyoull see. And dont wonder at all the sunflower seeds. Lilyll understand. Id feel odd handing over all this myself, but you know what to do. Keep some for yourself, share the rest.
And your sistersdont they need something too?
Theyre right as rain, both with good husbands. Gets their holiday money from me, you know that. You keep some for yourself and make sure Lily doesnt go without, but do it quietly so neighbours dont gossip. When it runs out, Ill bring moreno one in this familys going hungry while I can help.
After hed gone, Mum took stocktwo big sacks of sunflower seeds (Ill roast up a treat with these! she laughed like a child), boxes of tinned milk, stewing steak, pasta, flour, and a special bag just filled with sweets. She marvelled, shaking her head at my generosity, recalling the fish and chocolates Id always brought whenever I visited.
Still, this time felt special. She did as Id asked, popping round to Lilys in the evening with small parcels tucked under her coat. At first, Lily tried to refuse, but when Mum dropped off a whole bucketful of sunflower seeds, she worked out where it was coming from.
She burst into tears, ran her hands through the shining seeds, and then said to Mum:
Tell Peter thank you. All these years, and he remembers. Im truly grateful. And tell him not to worry for us anymore. Ive filed for divorcetwo weeks now. This will all be over soon, I hope.
Mum nodded and made her way home, unsure what to think. Lily would soon be freeand her son, my old mate, still unmarried.
Well, well, she murmured to herself. Whod have thought. Maybe Peter will finally settle down?
Time kept ticking along. Mum kept taking groceries to Lily, and they would have tea together. Lily always apologised as she accepted, promising shed repay the favour one day.
Not for you, but for your boy, Mum would remind her. If you wont accept for yourself, at least dont deny him a bit of kindnesssometimes help comes from the hands of others, you know.
A year on and Lily was single, living with just her son. She seemed lighter, her house brighter with new curtains, her little lad the image of her, off to nursery each morning.
Sometimes Mum would mind young Jamie, and hed call her granny. I would bring him a toy every time I visited, and wed all sit at Mums table with Lily for tea, remembering old times and never once speaking of John or those long difficult years, as if theyd vanished completely.
I started popping in on Mum more often, always checking first thing:
Lily been round lately? Jamie with you today?
You could at least ask after my health! Mum would tease.
Sorry, Mum How are you? Id reply, trying not to check out the window for Lily on the walk.
Shed just laugh, Go on then. Shes home today, you know. Dont keep hiding awayeveryones already talking about you two! Its high time.
Story of my life, Id grin, before you even know it yourself, the neighbours are ahead of you, matchmaking.
I gave Mum a sudden hug.
Whats this? she exclaimed, surprised.
Thanks, Mum. For understanding it all, and for just letting things be. I kissed her and she gave me a blessing as she always had, before I headed out the door.
As I crossed the threshold, I ducked back in for a moment, scooped up a bunch of white chrysanthemumspicked especially for Lilyand made my way to her door with no shame or hesitation.
Let them gossip, I thought to myself. Lets see what else they come up with when they see this. Unbeknownst to me, behind the lace curtains, Lily was holding her breath, watching me draw closer, flowers in hand…
