Almost everything will be sold, she whispered, eyes flicking to the man standing in the doorway. But you heard the truth behind that door?
Sell it?! Sophie Anderson shouted, bewildered, as she stared at her son. And where am I supposed to live? In the hallway? At the station? Have you decided to turn our home into a nursing home?
Mother, why are you starting this again Chris sighed, rubbing his temples.
Do you really think Im offering you a washingmachine box? she snapped, her voice higher than usual. Have you lost your mind, Chris?
Dont shout. Im just suggesting we talk about the options
Whats there to discuss? A house isnt a trinket you can offload when times are tough! she snapped, pushing back from the table. I was born here, you grew up here. And you youve decided to put it on the market!
At that moment the front door swung open without a knock. Their neighbour, Lydia Benson, stepped in.
Sophie! Whats with you sitting there like a statue? You promised youd plant all the flower beds this year. You barely survived the winter! Where are your plans for the garden?
Sophie, I tried honestly, Sophia lowered her gaze. The seedlings are just emerging and I cant bring myself to pull them up
Dont think about pulling them up! I gave you Ians number a month ago the farmer from Limefield. He could plow the whole field for you, seed it, make it productive. Plant something useful, not just roses for your teenage whims
Chris mentioned maybe coming over with friends in the summer, barbecues, a fire pit. And I only have lilacs and roses
Those roses of yours! Lydia scoffed. In the last five years your son has visited three times, and always with a case of beer, never a grill.
He works, Mum. Hes always busy
Remember that winter when the snow blocked everything? No food, no medicine! Good thing I dropped by. And where was your hardworking son? You couldnt even get a call back!
He always shows up when I ask him to
Sophie, youre like a girl who keeps believing and waiting. Time is slipping. You need to think with your head, not your heart. You need garden beds, not rose bushes!
Maybe Ill finally plant the beds where the lilacs have already died
Exactly. And what news from your daughter?
Everything the same. Chris only calls for birthdays or New Yearsnothing else.
The less often Chris appears, the less you have to worry about. I dont want to sound harsh, but things will only get quieter from now on
Sophie Anderson had lived all her life in the tiny Yorkshire village of Bramley, a stones throw from Leeds. Shed been alone for twenty years after her husband died on a motorway crash. Her first child, Emily, was the sensible onequick to learn to wash and to cook. Chris arrived later, when Sophie was already over forty, becoming her solace. There was a fifteenyear gap between the siblings, each raised in very different times.
Emily left first.
Mom, Im getting married, she said.
Marrying who? That bloke Roman from the neighboring village? I wont allow it! He has no trade, no education, no culture!
This is my life, Mum. Im eighteen now.
Did you ever look at his character? Hes all flesh and no soulnothing but grease inside!
Its not about looks, hes kind and smart. Hes got a job offer in the city.
And youre going with him? What about me, all alone?
Ill be studying and living on my own.
Sophie wept, begged. Emily packed a bag, burst through the kitchen window and vanished. No letters, no callsjust occasional gossip through acquaintances.
Chris stayed with his mother for years, turning the yard into a little haven: a gazebo, a swing, a barbecue pit, a wellkept lawn. No beds, no potatoes.
Mom, why do you need garden beds? Theres a shop in Bramley nowpotatoes, courgettes, greens. No need to bend your back.
Weve always done things our way
That was once. Were in the twentyfirst century now!
Sophie finally agreed. She lived modestly but comfortably. Chris supplied food, medicine, drove her to doctors. Then he met Marina, married her, and brought her into the family. Sophie accepted Marina, but the two never clicked. Sophie never hid her disdain for country life, especially the meddling motherinlaw.
During another visit, Chris, as usual, embraced his mother, laid out groceries, and set a plate down.
Mum, I need to talk. Ive got an idea Very profitable.
Business again?
Mum, developers want to buy land in Bramley! Theyll build a little cottage estateproper infrastructure, everything. If we sell the house with the plot, I could buy a nice onebed flat in Leeds and still have startup capital.
Hold on What about me? Where will I live?
Dont start that. We could look at a sheltered housing scheme or rent a flat. Not on the street!
You want to put me in a flat? In a courtyard where every stone is family history? Are you mad? This is our family home!
Its just a house, Mum. Old and cramped. As long as the price holds, we need to sell.
Never! Sophie clenched her fists. As long as Im breathing, this house stays. I wont even mention you in my will!
Chris snapped, snatched the keys, and walked out without a goodbye.
Sophie stepped into the garden. A halfbloomed rose bush stood on the flowerbed, a shovel in one hand, an axe in the other. She tried to turn the bed into a vegetable patch but the roots wouldnt budge.
Still nothing? Lydia called from behind the fence.
No strength. Not in my hands, not in my heart.
Its too late! The seasons wasted. And who knows if Chris will ever come back.
What would you suggest?
Think clearly. Do it rightsell and get a onebed flat in Leeds. A clinic nearby, a shop, warm rooms, decent neighbours. Civilization.
Sophie lay awake all night, turning the decision over. At dawn she caught a bus to Leeds, heading for Chriss flat. She decided to compromise, to talk calmly.
She climbed to the third floor, halted at the door, and heard from inside:
Vera, she doesnt want to sell! Stubborn as a bulldozer!
Then go work as a porter! How am I supposed to keep a business? Were on the edge and youre whining! Let it rot in Bramley!
Sophie froze, then knocked furiously.
Mum? Chris answered, surprised.
Thank you, son, for already burying me! her voice trembled. I came to talk, to make peace. And now know this: I will never sell! Never! Id rather bury myself in the ground than hand it over to your business!
Mom
Get out of here with your nightmare! Let her parents sell their flats! My house is not yours to touch!
Sophie turned and walked away, spending the night at the station. In the morning she returned home, lay low for three days, then grabbed the axe againstill unable to move the rose bushes.
At dawn a knock sounded at the garden gate.
Whos there?
Mum, its me. Emily.
Emily? My darling daughter
Mum, how are you?
Its her voice cracked.
Chris called. He says youve gone mad, wont sell the house. I told him to go away. He thinks youve given up everything But I realized its time to come back.
Sweetheart but we
When was the last time? I have three children now. I understand you perfectly!
Children?
Yes, two daughters and a son. And Harryhes fit, into sport, working in IT.
And you?
Well be coming over this weekend. Ill bring food, everything you need. Were close now, Mum.
What about the garden beds?
You dont need them anymore. Youve got grandchildren now.
Sophie burst into tears, hugging her daughter tightly. The old house, the rose bush, the axeall remained, but the future was finally blooming with new life.
