Mabel raises her son alone. She divorces his father right after the birth when she discovers he is a reckless drifter. The boys grandfather, George, steps in to help with the child and also chips in financially. Mabel cant picture what she would do without him.
After the split the money is tight; the exhusband doesnt pay child support. Mabel decides she must find work. George sighs and says, All right, love, youve got to get a job. Ill look after Tommy. He promises he can manage.
So Tommy spends most of his days with his granddad. Mabel feels a pang of jealousy; her little boy is very attached to George, and she spends all day at work with barely any time for him.
One crisp morning, as Mabel is about to head out, Tommy jumps up unusually early, his eyes bright. Granddad says were going mushroompicking today, isnt that great? he exclaims.
Mabel turns to George. Really, Papa? Where are you off to this time?
George grins, Were heading to the Yorkshire Forest, they say the porcini have started fruiting. Hes an avid forager and fisherman, a hobby he has been passing on to his grandson since he was a baby.
Mabel agrees, Just dont be out too late, okay?
George winks, When were out late well just fill a couple of buckets and head home, right Tommy?
They catch a bus to the edge of town, then walk the rest of the way. The Yorkshire Forest begins just outside the city, a short trek even for a sevenyearold.
Halfway to the woods a car pulls up beside them. The driver, Albert, recognises George. Hey, George! Off to hunt mushrooms again?
George laughs, Yeah, heard the porcini are in plenty.
Albert shakes his head, Those woods are almost stripped clean. Youll have better luck at Ashford Forest. Im heading that way now, want a lift?
George nods, Sure, thatd be grand.
Albert drops them off near Ashford Forest and they agree to try catching a ride back later, otherwise theyll phone him if they get stuck.
Tommy wanders through the trees, chattering happily. He loves these outings; George always answers his endless questions, never looking bored. To Tommy, his granddad is a walking encyclopedia.
The mushrooms are indeed abundant. Lost in the hunt, they wander deeper when, suddenly, George flails his arms and collapses.
Tommy isnt frightened at first. He rushes to his granddad, Grandpa, did you trip?
George lies silent, unmoving. Panic rises in Tommy. He struggles to roll his grandfather onto his back, shaking him, shouting, Grandpa, get up! Please, Im scared, come on!
That evening Mabel arrives home to an empty house. She tries calling George, but his phone is out of range. Did they not come back from the forest? she wonders, her worry turning to dread.
An hour later her anxiety spikes into panic. Two hours later she stands in the police station, breathless, pleading with the officer, My son and his granddad are missing! They went into the woods and havent returned! The officer, moved by her distress, immediately summons volunteers.
The volunteers respond quickly. Within two hours the first search party, together with Mabel and a few constables, begins combing the Yorkshire Forest. The forest, not Ashford, is now every foot of their focus.
Tommy sits beside his motionless granddad, sobbing. He talks to himself, Calm down, love, remember what granddad taught you. Keep your wits about you. He claps his hands on his cheeks, wipes away tears, and steadies himself.
He checks his granddads breathing, the thought of it stopping terrifying him. He leans his head onto Georges chest; the rise and fall is faint but visible.
Breathing, breathing! he whispers, relieved. He decides to stay put and wait for his granddad to recover, trying to call his motherno signal, so he just waits.
Night falls. As Tommy sits, he recalls Georges lessons on surviving in the wild.
The nights coming. If granddad doesnt wake, hell freeze on the cold ground. We cant just sit idle. Tommy pulls a lighter from his backpack, gathers dry twigs, and struggles to start a fire. After a few attempts the flames catch.
Now for more wood before it gets dark, he mutters, gathering pine branches and feeding them to the fire, placing them around his granddad. You wont freeze, grandpa. Ill keep you warm, just like you taught me.
The forest noises make Tommys heart race, but he stays beside George, covering them both with a blanket. When the fire dims, he bravely hauls more logs and adds them, recalling, Granddad always said the fire must never go out.
At dawn he drinks tea from a thermos, pouring half into Georges mouth while lifting his head. You need water, he thinks, spotting a clear spring not far away.
He remembers Georges warning about red berries, Wolfs banedont eat them. Instead, Tommy fills his thermos with water, picks a handful of safe berries, and heads toward the spring, leaving a trail of bright red stones.
Searches for the missing pair stretch into a third day. Volunteers keep returning, the towns people hearing the news and sending help. Mabel, sleepdeprived and with dark circles under her eyes, runs between teams, begging them not to stop. She avoids the forest herself, yet fear for her son fuels her stamina.
On the fourth day a volunteer, gathering courage, approaches Mabel. Statistically, after three days the chances of finding them alive are low. Weve checked the forest thoroughly; theres a marsh beyond itmaybe we should search there.
No! Mabel shouts. Grandpa knew this land. He would never lead Tommy into a swamp! Theyre alive, I know it! Keep looking!
On the fifth day Mabel exits the woods, her gait unsteady. A car brakes nearby and a familiar figure steps outAlbert, an old friend of Georges.
Mabel, what on earth is happening here? he asks, looking at the volunteer trucks and the anxious crowd.
Hearing the story, Alberts face turns pale. I drove them to Ashford Forest five days ago. He rushes forward, Come, come here!
A few hours later a young student volunteer, part of a group combing Ashford, smells smoke. He follows it to a faint ember where two figures lie under a blanket.
He calls softly, Tommy?
One figure stirsa boy. Youve been looking for us forever, he croaks. Grandpa kept coming to himself, I gave him water and some bread. Hes alive, just unconscious, the boy says weakly.
The sootcovered child clings to his equally sootcovered mother as a paramedic lifts his granddad onto a stretcher.
Grandpa, stay with me. I need you. You still have so much to teach me, Tommy whispers, tears streaming down his sootblackened cheeks.
