“Who are you here for?” Margaret Fairweather stepped out onto the porch with Nicholas, both staring at their unexpected visitor. “Im here for Margaret Fairweather! Im her granddaughterwell, great-granddaughter, actually. Im the daughter of her eldest son, Alexander.”
Margaret sat on the sunlit bench, soaking in the first warm days of spring. At last, winter had passed. Only God knew how shed made it through those cold months.
“One more winter, and I wouldnt have made it,” she thought, breathing a sigh of relief. She wasnt afraid of dying anymore. In fact, shed been waiting for it. Shed saved up her money, bought her burial clothes. Nothing was keeping her in this world now.
Once, shed had a big familyher husband, Frederick, a tall, strong man, and their four children: three boys and a girl. Theyd lived harmoniously, helping each other, rarely arguing. But one by one, the children grew up and flew the nest.
The two eldest sons went off to university, then moved to cities for work. The middle one had struggled in school but later built a successful business that took him abroad, where he stayed. Their daughter didnt linger in the village eithershe flitted off to London and soon married.
At first, the children visited often. They wrote letters, and when mobile phones came along, they called. Grandchildren followed. Every now and then, Margaret would pack her worn-out suitcase and travel to one of them to help with childcare.
But slowly, the grandchildren outgrew her. The calls became fewer, the visits rare. Work, their own families, their own growing childrenthere was no time left for her. The only reason theyd all returned was when Frederick passed. Hed seemed so strong, like hed live to a hundred. But life had other plans.
After the funeral, they scattered again. The calls to their mother dwindled, then stopped. Margaret tried ringing them, but she quickly sensed they were too busy and gave up. Thats how she spent the last ten years. Once a year, one of them might remember herthen shed smile to herself for a week.
One day, as she sat on her bench lost in thought, a young man called out, “Hello, Aunt Margaret! Dont you remember me?”
She squinted. “Nicholas? Is that really you?”
“Its me!” he beamed, stepping into the yard.
Nicholas was the neighbours boythe ones who couldnt go a day without drinking. For as long as shed known him, hed been a hungry child. Out of pity, shed fed him, given him hand-me-downs, and let him stay over when his parents were on another bender.
His parents didnt last long. When they passed, Nicholas was taken awayto where, she never knew. Shed missed him terribly.
“Whereve you been all this time?” she asked, overjoyed.
“Childrens home, then the army, then college. Now Im backgonna put our village back on the map!”
“Whats left to rebuild?” she sighed. “Everyones gone.”
“Doesnt matter! Well manage!”
And just like that, Margaret had a new life. Nicholas got a job with the biggest farmer in the village. In his free time, he fixed up his parents old cottage and helped Margaret around the house. She brightened up, calling him “son” without fail. They lived like that for three wonderful years.
Then one day, Nicholas said, “Ive got to go, Aunt Margaret. The farmers not paying fair wages. Im off to find better work. Dont be cross with me.”
“Cross? Never! Go with God, love.”
Once again, Margaret was alone. Sometimes, the loneliness made her want to cry. She passed her days waiting for the endbut still, something kept her here.
Then, one afternoon, a familiar voice called out, “Hello, Aunt Margaret!”
She turned to see Nicholas at the gatetaller now, well-dressed. “Its really me!” he grinned, stepping inside. “Im back for good!”
“Oh, what joy!” she fussed. “Come in, come in! Ill put the kettle on!”
“Tea sounds perfect,” he laughed. “Let me just pop home firstdidnt know youd be here, forgot the treats!”
Half an hour later, they sat at the table, sipping tea from fine old china, talking nonstop.
“Id nearly packed for the next world, you know,” Margaret admitted, wiping a tear.
“Dont even think about it!” He wagged a finger playfully. “Were going to live so well, everyone will envy us! Ive saved upgonna start my own farm. Youre not going anywhere!”
Just then, a bright voice called, “Hello? Anyone home?”
Margaret peered out to see a young woman in a short coat and high heels.
“Who are you here for?” she and Nicholas asked in unison.
“Im here for Margaret Fairweather! Im her great-granddaughterAlexanders granddaughter. I tried calling, but your phone was off, so I just came!”
Margaret, flustered, invited her in while Nicholas carried her suitcase.
As the girlEmilytucked into the food, she explained, “I hate the city. Wanted to try village life. Grandad said if I stayed a few months, Id change my mind. But I couldnt reach yousorry! I wont be a burden, Ive got money, and Dad sent gifts!”
“Stay as long as you like!” Margaret said warmly.
A month later, Margaret watched Emily work the garden like shed been born to it. With Nicholass help, theyd revived the long-neglected plot, built a greenhouse, and planted seedlings. Nicholas, meanwhile, had started his own farm, hired workers to fix Margarets roof, and installed proper heating.
Margaret was happier than shed been in years. Only one shadow lingeredEmily would leave soon. Shed grown so fond of her. But when the time came, Emily smiled and said, “Youll managejust keep the water barrel full. Nicholas will handle the garden. And Ill be back to weed!”
“Youre coming back?” Margarets face lit up.
“Of course! I cant stay away. I love it here.” She grinned. “And Nicholas proposed! Weddings in autumncant leave my country boy, can I?”
A year later, Margaret rocked her great-great-grandsons pram in the sunshine. Emily and Nicholas were at the farm, thriving, lifting the whole village with them.
Margaret looked at the sleeping baby and thought, “No, not yet. These children still need me.”
(If you enjoyed this story, leave a comment and let us knowit keeps us writing!)
