She wasnt theirs by blood, those five But who could tell
George had lost his wife. She never recovered from the last childbirth.
There he was, grieving or not, left with five children to raise. The eldest, Nicholas, was nine. Elijah was seven. The twins, Alexander and Leo, were four. And the youngest, just three months oldlittle Eleanor, the long-awaited daughter
No time to mourn when children ask for food. At night, once they were all asleep, hed sit in the kitchen, smoking
At first, George managed as best he could. His sister-in-law came by now and then to help. They had no other family. She offered to take the twins, saying itd make things easier. Then two social workers showed up at the door.
They suggested sending all the children to an orphanage. George wouldnt hear of it. How could he give his own flesh and blood away? How could he live with himself? Hard as it was, what choice did he have? Theyd grow up in time.
On good days, he even managed to check the older boys homework. Eleanor, of course, needed the most care. But Nicholas and Elijah pitched in where they could.
The visiting nurse, Mrs. Nina Thompson, often dropped by to check on them. One day, she promised to send a nanny. A man shouldnt struggle alone with a baby, she said. A good, hardworking girl, worked at the hospital nursery.
No children of her own yet, unmarried. But shed helped raise her siblingscame from a big family in the next village over. And so Lucy arrived in their home.
Petite but sturdy, round-faced, with an old-fashioned braid down her back. And quietnever a word out of place. Yet everything in Georges house changed. The place gleamedscrubbed, polished, spotless.
She mended the childrens clothes, washed them fresh. Tended to Eleanor, cooked meals. The school and nursery noticed the difference at once. The children were clean, tidy, buttons sewn properly, elbows no longer threadbare.
Once, Eleanor fell ill with a fever. The doctor said shed recover with proper care. Lucy stayed up night after night, never once lying down herself, until the little girl was well. And somehow, without fuss, she stayed in Georges home
The younger ones soon called her “Mum,” aching for a mothers touch. And Lucy never held backa kind word, a pat on the head, a hug. They were children, after all
The older boys, Nicholas and Elijah, kept their distance at first, never calling her anything. Then, simply, “Lucy.” Not “nanny,” not “Mum”just Lucy. To remember, perhaps, that their own mother had once been there And truth be told, she was barely old enough to be their mother.
Lucys family objected.
“What kind of burden are you taking on? Plenty of lads in the village!”
“There are,” she replied, “but I feel for George And the children have grown used to me now.”
So they carried on. Fifteen years slipped by unnoticed The children studied, grew. Not always smoothsometimes they misbehaved. George would lose his temper, reach for the belt. But Lucy would tug his sleeve”Wait, Father, hear them out first”
They argued, made up, like any family. In the village, no one called her Lucy anymore. She was Mrs. Ludmilla now, respected. Nicholas was married, expecting his first.
The young couple lived apartNicholas worked at the farm, never just another tractor driver. Awards, bonuses, every year. Elijah was finishing university in the city, Lucys prideher boy would be an engineer.
They did everything togetherplayed as children, stood up for each other when needed. Eleanor was in her ninth year now, another of Lucys joys. A singer, a dancer, no village festival passed without her.
And George often thought how well Nurse Nina had chosen his wife
That summer, Lucy felt something off in her body. Never sick a day in her life, yet now sudden dizziness, nausea She made George smoke outsidethe smell made her ill. At first, she thought it would pass. It didnt. She went to the doctor.
She returned quiet, pensive. Brushed off Georges questions”Nothing, just nonsense.”
But that evening, once the children were asleep, she called him outside.
“Sit, Father We need to talk. The doctor says Im with child Too late to do anything now. Must keep it” She covered her face. “The shame of it”
George was stunned. All these years, no childrenand now this!
“What shame, Mother? The older ones are nearly grown! Just the two of us left, eh? Nature knows best, Id say!”
“How do we tell the children? Theyll say Im too old for this”
“Old? Thirty-nine is nothing!”
“I dont know what to do The shame”
“Enough. Ill tell them. Tomorrow, when theyre all here.”
And he did. Once theyd gathered at the table, he said it plain: “My dears, soon youll have another brother. Or sister.”
Lucy kept her eyes down, stirring her plate, flushed to the point of tears.
Nicholas, visiting with his young wife, burst out laughing.
“Brilliant, Mum! Well done! Oursll have a playmate!”
Alexander cheered:
“Go on, Mum! We need another brother!”
Leo disagreed:
“No A sister. Too many lads here already. Eleanors spoiled rotten as it is”
Eleanor shot him a look.
“Spoiled? You spoil me? Of course a sister, Mum! Ill tie her ribbons, buy pretty dresses!”
“Dresses? Shes not a doll,” Elijah cut in. “A child needs raising too,” he added wisely.
“Well raise it,” George said.
But Lucy still blushed, covering her growing bellywith a shawl, or a coat in summer heat, as if chilled.
The months passed quietly. Nicholass firstborn arriveda boy! Elijah returned to university after break. The twins left tooenrolled at the agricultural college.
Eleanor started her school year. The house grew quiet, empty. She was either at school or with friends. Even had a lad walking her home from Sunday dances now.
Lucy lay awake, waiting. Thenpain. Sharp, sudden darkness in her eyes.
“George,” she called weakly, “George, I think its time”
He paled, fumbling with his boots.
“Hold on, Mother, Illquick, the ambulance!” he shouted to Eleanor. She understood at once, dashed out.
Two minutes later, she burst back in.
“Mum, Tommyll drive you, hes borrowing his dads car, wait!”
“Tommy, eh” Lucy thought, before another pain ripped through her.
“Oh, Mum! Whats happening?”
Five minutes later, the lad whod walked Eleanor home stepped in.
“Dadll drive himself,” he told Eleanor. “Coming?”
“Im coming,” George grabbed his coat. “Dont fear, Lucy, Im here”
All night, George smoked on the hospital steps. At dawn, an older nurse emerged.
“Waiting, Dad? Smoking? Youll need to cut back First one, is it?”
“Fifth,” he mumbled.
“Good Lord! A wealthy man! But not fiveseven! Your beautys had twins!”
“Twins?” George stammered.
“Boy and girl! Boys loud,” she chuckled. “Girls a beauty! Go home, Dad. Come back tomorrow. Shell stay a while yet. Babies need weight. Bring whats needed. Understood?”
“Right,” George nodded, dazed.
On discharge day, the whole family gathered. Even the three students skipped classes, came home. The nurse solemnly carried out two bundlesone in blue ribbon, one in pink. Behind her, Lucy, flustered.
George took one bundle, hesitated with the other.
“Twos awkward Forgotten how”
Nicholas took it:
“Here, Dad Not my first time!”
“Oh, shes lovely!” Eleanor peeked into the pink bundle. “My little sister!”
Flowers and cake for the nurse (as was proper), they headed for the farm busthe director had lent it. Special occasion!
“Well, Mum, youve pleased everyone!” Nicholas grinned.
Lucy cradled one bundle, smiling softly to herself. God willing, shed raise them right She glanced at George holding the other.
“Well raise them,” she corrected herself, “of course, we”
“Children,” she turned to them, “what shall we name them?”
At once, suggestions flewnames they liked, names that meant something.
And the bus driver, Georges friend, listening to the happy chatter behind him, thought: She wasnt theirs by blood, those five But who could tell
