Are you serious about selling everything? Sophie Andrews shouted, halfshocked, as she stared at her son. What am I supposed to live in then the hallway? The bus station? Have you decided to turn our house into a nursing home?
Mom, why are you starting this again Kevin sighed.
Do you really think Im offering you a washingmachine box, Kevin? Have you lost your mind? she snapped, voice rising. Dont yell. Im just suggesting we talk about options
Whats there to discuss? A house isnt a thing you can toss when times get tough! she snapped, pushing her chair away. I was born here, you grew up here, and now you want to put it on the market!
Just then the neighbour, Lydia Harper, slipped in without knocking.
Sophie! Why are you sitting there looking deadbeat? You promised youd plant all the garden beds this year. Remember last winter you almost froze? Where are your plans for the garden?
I tried, honestly Sophie lowered her eyes. The seedlings have just sprouted and I cant bring myself to pull them up
Dont even think about pulling them! A month ago I gave you Ians number the farmer from Littleton. He could have turned that field into gold for you! Youd be planting something useful instead of staring at roses in your old age
Kevin mentioned maybe some friends will come over in summer barbecues, a fire pit. And I only have lilacs and roses
Those roses of yours! Lydia snorted. In the last five years your son has only turned up three times, and each time with a crate of beer, not a grill.
Hes busy. Hes got a lot on his plate
Remember that winter when the snow blocked everything? No food, no medicine! Good thing I stopped by. And where was your hardworking son then? You could never get a hold of him!
He always comes when I call
Sophie, youre like a schoolgirl believing and waiting while the clock keeps ticking. You need to think with your head, not your heart. What you really need right now are garden beds, not a rose bush!
Maybe Ill finally get those beds, where the lilacs have already taken over
Exactly. What about your daughter? Anything new?
Nothing much. Kevin only says Happy birthday or Merry Christmas and thats it.
You see, the less Kevin shows up, the fewer worries you have. I dont want to sound harsh, but things are only going to get quieter from here on.
Sophie lived in the little hamlet of Hollybrook, just off the Yorkshire Dales. Shed been on her own for twenty years after her husband died on the motorway. Their first child, Alice, was a sensible girl who learned to wash and cook early. Kevin arrived later, when Sophie was over forty, becoming her comfort. There was a fifteenyear age gap between them, different upbringings, different times.
Alice left first.
Mom, Im getting married, she announced.
Marrying who? That bloke Roman from the village? No way! He has no trade, no education, no manners!
Its my life, Mum. Im eighteen now.
Did you even look at his character? Hes all belly and no soul!
Its not about looks. Hes kind, smart, and got a job in the city.
So youre moving in with him? And Im left here alone?
Ill study and start a life.
Sophie wept, begged, but Alice packed a suitcase and flung herself out the window, disappearing without a note or a call. Only occasional gossip filtered through acquaintances.
Kevin stayed with his mum for years, turning the yard into a cosy spot: a gazebo, a swing, a grill, a neat lawn, lots of flowers. No garden beds, no potatoes.
Mom, why do you need garden beds? Theres a new shop in Hollybrook potatoes, courgettes, greens, everything. No need to break your back.
Because thats how weve always done things
That was once. Its the 21st century now!
Sophie grudgingly agreed. She lived modestly, but comfortably. Kevin brought groceries, medicine, drove her to doctors. Then he met Marina, got married, and Sophie welcomed her, though they never clicked. She never hid her disdain for country life, especially towards her motherinlaw.
One afternoon Kevin arrived, as usual, hugged his mum, set the food out, and sat down.
Mum, Ive got an idea it could be really profitable.
Business again?
Sophie, developers want to buy land in Hollybrook! Theyre planning a little cottage estate with all the amenities. If we sell the house with the plot, I could buy a nice onebed flat in York and still have some startup cash left.
And where would I live?
Maybe a retirement home or a flat. Not on the road, though!
Youre moving me to a flat? From our family home? Youve got to be kidding! This is our family house!
Its just a house, old and a bit cramped. As long as the price holds, we should sell.
Never! Sophie clenched her fists. As long as Im breathing, this house stays. I wont even mention you in my will!
Kevin snapped, grabbed his keys, and stormed out without a goodbye.
Sophie stepped into the garden. A halfblooming rose bush sat on the flowerbed. In one hand she held a spade, in the other an axe. She tried to dig up the bed for a vegetable patch but couldnt move it.
Still stuck? Lydia called over the fence.
No strength left. Neither in my hands nor in my heart.
Too late now! The seasons wasted. And who knows if Kevin will ever come back.
What would you suggest?
Think clearly. If you sort everything properly, youll have that flat in York a clinic nearby, a shop, warmth, neighbours. A proper life.
Sophie lay awake all night, turning it over. At dawn she caught a bus to York, headed for Kevin, ready to talk calmly.
She climbed to the third floor, paused at the door. From inside a voice shouted:
Vera, she wont sell! Stubborn as a bulldozer!
Then go work as a porter! How am I supposed to keep a business running? Were on the brink and youre whining! Let her rot in Hollybrook!
Sophie froze, then knocked hard, her voice shaking.
Mum? Kevin answered.
Thank you, son, for already burying me! she whispered, tears trembling. I came to talk, to make peace. But know this: I will never sell! Never! Id rather be buried in the soil than hand it over for your scheme!
Mom
Get out of here with your devil! Let her parents sell apartments! My house isnt yours to touch!
Sophie turned and walked away, spending the night at the railway station. In the morning she drifted back home, lay low for three days, then grabbed the axe again, but the rose bush still wouldnt budge.
Later that morning, someone knocked on the garden gate.
Whos there?
Its me, Mum. Its Alice.
Alice? My little girl Sophie froze, her voice breaking.
Mom, how are you?
Its its hard to speak, she whispered.
Alice called. She said youve gone off the rails, refusing to sell. I told him go away. He thought youd already given up but I realised its time to come back.
Darling, but we
When did we last talk? Ive got three kids now. I get you, really.
Kids?
Two daughters and a son. And Romans gone fit, doing sport, working in tech.
And you?
Well be coming over this weekend, with food and everything you need. Were close now, Mum.
What about the garden beds?
You dont need them any more. Youve got grandkids now.
Sophie burst into tears and hugged her daughter tightly.
