Susan Anderson was on the brink of agreeing to sell everything. Then she heard the truth behind the door
What do you mean sell?! she blurted, bewildered, at her son. And where will I live? In the hallway? On the platform? Have you decided to hand me over to a retirement home?
Mother, why are you starting this again Kevin sighed.
Do you want to offer me a washingmachine box? she said, voice higher than usual. Have you lost your mind, Kevin?!
Dont shout. Im just suggesting we discuss the options
Whats there to discuss? A house isnt a trinket you can fling away when moneys tight! she snapped, pulling herself away from the table. I was born here, you grew up here, and youve decided to put it on the market!
At that moment the neighbour, Lydia Wilson, slipped in without knocking.
Susan! Why are you sitting there like a stone? You promised youd plant all the garden beds this year. Last winter you almost collapsed! Where are your plans for the garden?
Lydia, I tried, honestly Susan lowered her gaze. The seedlings have just sprouted and I cant bring myself to pull them up
Dont think about pulling them out! I gave you Ians number a month ago, the tractor driver from Lincolnshire. Hed plough the whole field for you and make it look tidy! Youd be planting useful veggies instead of staring at roses in your old age
Kevin said maybe his friends will come over in summer barbecues, a bonfire. And I only have lilacs and roses
Those roses of yours! Lydia snorted. In the last five years your son has turned up three times, each time with a case of beer, not a grill.
Hes busy. He has a lot on his plate
And remember that snowstorm last winter? No food, no medicine! Good thing I popped round. Where was your hardworking son? Never answered a call!
He always shows up when I call
Susan, youre like a schoolgirl believing and waiting. Time is slipping. You need to think with your head, not your heart. What you need now are garden beds, not rose bushes!
Maybe Ill finally make those beds, where the lilacs have already taken over
Exactly. Hows your daughter?
Same as always. Kevin chats with her now and then birthdays, New Year thats the whole conversation.
Kevins visits are getting rarer, his worries fewer. I dont want to sound harsh, but things will only get quieter from here on out.
Susan lived in the little hamlet of Oakley, near Yorkshire. Shed been left alone with her children twenty years ago when her husband died on the motorway. Her first child, Alice, was sensible, learned to wash and cook early. Kevin arrived later, when Susan was past forty, becoming her comfort. Fifteen years separated them, each raised in a different era.
Alice was the first to leave.
Mom, Im getting married, she said.
Marry who? That Tom from the village? No way! He has no qualifications, no education, no culture!
This is my life, Mum. Im eighteen now.
Have you seen his gut? You wont find any soul in there its all fat!
Its not about looks. Hes kind, smart, got a job offer in the city.
And youre going to move with him? What about me, all alone?
Ill be studying. Ill have my own place.
Susan wept, pleaded. But Alice, after packing a suitcase and leaping through the window, vanished. No letters, no calls just the occasional rumor through acquaintances.
Kevin stayed with his mother for years, turning the garden into a leisure zone: a gazebo, a swing, a barbecue, a neat lawn, flowers everywhere. No vegetable beds, not a single potato.
Mum, why do you need vegetable beds? Theres a shop in Oakley now potatoes, courgettes, greens. No need to break your back, Kevin said.
Its tradition to keep whats yours
That was tradition once! Now its the twentyfirst century!
Susan agreed. She lived modestly but comfortably. Kevin brought food, medicine, drove her to doctors. Then he met a girl, Marina, married her, and Susan welcomed Marina, though they never quite clicked. She never hid her contempt for country life, especially for her motherinlaw.
During one of Kevins regular visits, he embraced his mother, set the groceries on the table and said, Mum, Ive got an idea Its a good one.
Business again? Susan asked.
Mom, developers want to buy the land in Oakley! Theyll build a little cottage estate proper roads, everything. If we sell the house with the plot, we could buy a nice onebed flat in Leeds and Id still have startup capital.
Wait what about me? Where will I live?
Dont start that. We could think about a care home or rent a flat. Not on the high street, mind you!
You want to move me into a flat? From the cottage where every twig is a family heirloom? Are you mad? This is our family home!
Its just a house, old and cramped. As long as the price holds, we should sell.
Never! Susan clenched her fists. As long as Im breathing, the house stays. I wont even mention it in my will!
Kevin grabbed his keys and stormed out without saying goodbye.
Susan stepped into the yard. A rose bush, halfbloomed, stood on the flowerbed. In one hand she held a spade, in the other an axe. She tried to dig up the flowerbed for a vegetable patch but couldnt move it.
Still stuck? Lydia called from over the fence.
No strength. Not in my hands, not in my heart.
Its too late! The seasons wasted. And Kevin might never come back.
What would you suggest?
Think clearly. Do it right youll have a onebed flat in Leeds, a clinic nearby, a shop, warmth, neighbours. Civilisation.
Susan lay awake all night, turning the thought over. At dawn she hopped on a bus and headed for Leeds, to Kevins flat, ready to negotiate calmly.
She climbed to the third floor, paused at the door. Inside, a voice shouted:
Vera, she wont sell! Stubborn as a bulldozer!
Then go be a mover! How am I supposed to keep a business running? Were on the edge and youre whining! Let it rot in Oakley!
Susan froze, then slammed the door with fury.
Mother?! Kevin answered.
Thank you, son, for already burying me! she trembled. I came to talk, to make peace. And now know this: I will never sell! Never! Id rather be buried in the earth than hand it over to your scheme!
Mom
Get out with your damned ghost! she screamed. Let the others sell their flats! My house is not yours to touch!
She turned and walked away, spending the night on the station bench. In the morning she returned home, lay in bed for three days, then gathered the axe but still couldnt reach the rose bushes.
A knock came at the garden gate at sunrise.
Whos there?
Its me, Mum. Its Alice.
Alice?! Susan froze. My little girl
Mum, how are you?
Just, her voice cracked.
Kevin called. He says youve gone off your head, wont sell the house. I told him to go to hell. He thought youd already given up but Ive realised its time to come back.
Sweetheart but we
When was that? Ive got three kids now. I finally understand you!
Kids?
Yes, two daughters and a son. And Ron is lean, into sport, working in IT.
And you?
Well be visiting on weekends. Ill bring food, everything you need. Were close now, Mum.
What about the garden beds?
You dont need them any more. Youve got grandchildren now.
Susan broke down, hugging her daughter, finally feeling the warmth shed been missing.
