Youve dropped your potato.
Mrs. Agnes Wilkins turned around. Two boysidentical, skinny, their jackets much too bigstood there. One bent down, picked up the potato, wiped it on his trouser leg and held it out. The other watched the tray of hot baked potatoes as though he hadnt eaten for days.
Thank you, love. What brings you boys round here? Ive seen you hanging about three times now.
The elder shrugged. No reason.
Agnes knew there was a reason. She wrapped two potatoes in an old newspaper, tossed in a gherkin, and handed them over. Come by tomorrowyou can help me carry the crates, all right?
They took the bundle and disappeared without a word.
That evening, as Agnes was dragging a water butt up the garden path, the boys reappeared. Wordlessly, they took it from her and lugged it to the shed. The older one fished in his pocket and produced two worn old coppers.
They were Dadshe was a baker, passed away now. We wont part with them, but you can have a look.
Agnes understood: this was all they had.
Harry and Edward started turning up every day. Agnes would feed them from whatever shed brought from home, and in return, theyd lug sacks and boxes. Theyd eat quickly, eyes fixed on the floor. One day, she asked, Where are you sleeping, you two?
In the old basement on Factory Lane, Edward replied. Its dry down theredont worry.
How can I not worry? she said softly. I have to ask.
Harry lifted his head. Were not beggars. When we grow up, well open a bakery like Dads. Just you wait.
Agnes nodded. No more questionsshe could see their pride, their discipline.
But a certain Mr. Sidney Pritchardthe market caretaker whose wife sold pickled fish to barely anyonebecame a nuisance. Hed pass by and mutter, What are you, the patron saint of urchins? Feeding those layabouts for sympathy?
Mind your own business, Sid.
It is my business. I keep the order here.
Hed scribble in his notebook and eye the boys with contempt. Agnes could sense he was plotting mischief, but she hadnt expected what came next.
It happened on a Wednesday. A car pulled up at her stall, out climbed two women with a police officer. Harry and Edward were stacking boxessuddenly frozen, like statues.
Harry and Edward Mason?
Yes, the elder replied quietly.
Gather your things. Youre coming with us.
Agnes stepped forward. And just where are you taking them? Theyre with me. I look after them!
Youre exploiting underage children, said one woman, nodding toward Sidney, arms folded by the gate. We received a report. Children must be cared for by the state.
Im not exploiting anyone! Im feeding them!
Dont worry, Aunt Aggie, Harry murmured. Its all right. Dont cause trouble.
Edward said nothing, just clenched his fists. They took them to the car. Agnes darted after the woman, grabbing her sleeve.
Waitlet me apply for guardianshipplease
Youre a pensioner. Please step aside. Theyll go to different homes.
Different?!
The car door slammed shut. Agnes stood in the middle of the market, watching Harrys face at the window, pressed against the glass. He mouthed, Thank you.
Sidney Pritchard strolled by, whistling.
Twenty years slipped past.
Agnes Wilkins no longer sold food at the market. She lived in an old, draughty cottage at the edge of the village, just about scraping by. She often thought of the boys. Were they alive? Had they found each other? Sometimes she dreamed of them, standing at her stall eating potatoes, while she smoothed their hair.
Sidney Pritchard still lived across the lane. Hed aged, but from time to time, hed find a way to goad her. If they passed on the pavement, hed call out, mocking, Still missing your strays, Wilkins?
She never repliedshe hadnt the strength anymore.
One Saturday, while tending her garden beds, two cars, black and gleaming, came rolling down their winding lane. Nothing like that had ever been seen here. Neighbours poked out from their doorways, buzzing.
The cars stopped right at her garden gate.
Out stepped two tall, well-dressed men. They looked alike, each with a small mole under the left eye. Agnes straightened up, spade falling from her fingers.
Aunt Aggie?
She knew them instantly by their eyesthose same bright, hopeful eyes from twenty years ago.
Harry?
He nodded. Edward stood beside him, his lips twisted in a smile. Then Harry stepped forward, unbuttoned his shirt pocket, and pulled out a chain. Hanging from it was an old copper cointhe one.
We both wear it. Never took it off.
Agnes hugged them both, and they clung to each other for a long time as if afraid to let go.
Neighbours gazed on, puzzled. Edward finally stepped back, wiping his cheek with his palm.
We spent three years looking for you, he said. The old markets gone, everyones scattered. Searched the archives, the address booksyou name it. We thought wed never find you.
Harry took Agness hand. Weve come to take you home. We own bakeries nowseventeen branches! We rebuilt Dads dream together. We were split up, but we found each other, ran away from care homes, started from scratch. And we always rememberedyou were the only one who cared.
Oh boys, Im fine herehonestly
Fine? Edward glanced at the crumbling cottage. Aunt Aggie, you gave us your last meal. Now its our turn. Weve argued for a weekwhose house will you live in, mine or Harrys?
Hes near the doctors, Harry pointed out, but Ive got the bigger garden.
They both laughed and bickered, just like when they were boys, and Agnes wept quietly.
Sidney Pritchard peered over his fence, staring at the cars and the men in their sharp suits, utterly confounded. Harry caught his eye and strolled across.
You Sidney Pritchard? Market caretaker?
A wary nod.
Youre the one who reported us, arent you?
Silence. At last, the old man jerked his chin.
Well, rules are rules. You cant exploit kids.
Edward managed a crooked smile. Funny thing is, if it werent for you, wed still be holed up in that basement. We got split up, but found each other after six years, ran and built a life from nothing. You turned it all upside down, in a way.
Harry handed him a card. Heres our details. Just in case. We dont bear grudgesnot like some.
Sidneys hands trembled as he read: Mason & Mason Bakeries. His face seemed to melt, and he slunk home, stooped as if a heavy stone pressed on his back.
Agnes packed up her things in half an hournot much to takeand the boys sat her in the back seat, tucking a travel rug over her knees.
As the cars pulled away, Agnes glanced back. In Sidneys window, a lonely shadow watched. There was no hate or triumph left in itonly emptiness, the emptiness of one whod spent a life making misery for others, and in the end, was left with nothing.
Aunt Aggie, Harry called from the drivers seat, glancing in the rear-view mirror. Remember how we promised to open a bakery?
I remember.
Our flagship is called Aggiesand every day, we give free food to any child in need.
Agnes closed her eyes. Twenty years ago, shed given two hungry boys her last potato and a little kindnessshe didnt turn them away. Now, they had come back and given her everything she had given them, and so much more.
The cars turned onto the main road. The old village faded behind them. Ahead lay a new beginning, one Agnes had truly earned, simply by showing compassion. Sometimes, the kindness you give is the kindness you get backa reminder the heart can carry for a lifetime.
