Lucy was pulling weeds in her garden when she heard someone calling her from the yard. She dabbed the sweat off her forehead and walked to the gate. Standing there was a woman shed never seen before.
Lucy, hello! I need to have a word with you.
Hello. Well, come in then, if youve come all this way
Lucy let the woman inside, set the kettle on the stove and wondered what she wanted.
My names Emma. We dont know each other, but Ive heard a bit about you Ill get straight to the point. Your husbands late brother had a son, a little lad called Mick. Hes three now.
Lucy stared, surprised. That wasnt my son. It was my neighbour, Kates, child. Your husband used to visit her a lot, and thats why the boy looks just like him red hair and a freckled face, just like his dad.
And what do you want from me? Lucy asked.
Kates passed away. She got pneumonia and died, leaving the boy an orphan. She never had a mother or a father; shed moved here from the north and worked in a shop. Its a sorry state for the boy, ending up in a childrens home.
Lucys eyes flashed. I have my own two daughters, born in my marriage. Are you suggesting I take this child in? Its bold enough to walk into a wifes house and ask that.
Emma replied, Hes technically family now, being your husbands nephew, so hes not a stranger. Hes a good, sweet boy. The hospital is sorting his paperwork.
Lucy sighed, Dont try to pull at my heartstrings. My late husband left who knows how many kids, and Im not going to raise them all.
Just think about it, Emma said, and left. Lucy poured herself a cup of tea and let the thought settle.
Shed met George right after finishing her degree. Theyd gone out with friends, and a couple of lads had come over to chat. George stood out with his ginger hair and a smattering of freckles across his face. He was cheeky, loved reciting poetry and cracking jokes, and even offered to walk her home.
Fast forward a few years and they were married, living with Georges mother until she died and left them the cottage. Their first daughter, Poppy, arrived, then two years later Molly. Money was always tight.
Then George started drinking heavily. Lucy tried to help, but the habit only got worse. He disappeared for days, lost his job, and Lucy took on a second shift at the local supermarket to keep the lights on. She finally decided to file for divorce, thinking shed move to the city with the girls and stay with her sister, whod promised to help.
Just when she thought things were finally clearing, George was killed in a car crash, drunk and slammed into a lorry. Lucy wept over his grave, the girls crying too, and she felt a strange pang of guilt when she learned thered been a boy out there that George had fathered on the side.
One afternoon Clara, their eldest, came in from school. She was tall, slim, with her mums red hair and her dads freckles. Mum, whats for dinner? Im starving Im meeting my friends at the cinema later. Why do you look so down?
Lucy tried to smile. Im just mulling over some news. Someone told me your dad had a child with another woman, a threeyearold whos now in a childrens home. The mothers gone, theyre looking for someone to take him in.
Claras eyes widened. No way Whos the mother? Do you know her?
No. She wasnt from around here. Her name was Kate, I dont know her surname.
What are we going to do? Wheres the boy now? He has no family, does he?
Apparently not. Hes in the hospital, paperwork being sorted. They say he looks just like his dad the same ginger hair.
The girls darted off to the kitchen, piling plates with boiled potatoes and sausages. Lucy watched them, thinking how strong those redhaired genes were.
The next day Poppy came back from the hospital with Molly, both buzzing about the boy theyd seen. Hes cheeky, lots of dimples, looks a lot like us. He was crying, wanted his mum.
Theyd brought him an apple and an orange. The nurse let them play with him for a bit. Can we take him home? Hes practically family, they asked.
Lucy snapped at Poppy, Are you serious? My husbands cheating, and now you expect me to take on another mouth? Ive got enough on my plate, selling veg from the garden, working two jobs You want to hang this kid on my neck?
Molly tried to reason, If you get legal guardianship, theres a benefit payment, right? And youre a mother, arent you feeling any pity for the lad?
Lucy was furious, both at the memory of George and at her own daughters for bringing this up. She decided she needed to see the boy herself and went straight to the hospital the next morning.
Excuse me, could you tell me where little Mick, three years old, is? I heard theyre thinking of sending him to a childrens home, she asked the nightshift nurse.
The nurse eyed her. Who are you, miss? What do you want?
Just want to have a look. Hes my husbands son, from another woman It happened.
The nurse shrugged, Your daughters were here earlier, playing with him. Hes a good lad, keeps calling for his mum.
Just a quick peek, I wont take him home.
Lucy walked into the ward and stopped dead in her tracks. The boy was sitting in a cot, his ginger curls bouncing, bright blue eyes, a beautiful little face. He was playing with some blocks and, seeing her, broke into a smile.
Auntie wheres my mum?
Your mums not here, Mick.
I want to go home.
He burst into tears. Something cracked inside Lucy. She knelt, lifted the trembling boy into her arms.
The nurse shouted, You cant just take him!
Shh, love, dont cry, Lucy whispered, smoothing his hair.
Please, Auntie, take me I want a home, I have no one to play with.
Ill be back, I promise, she said, hugging him tighter.
She left the hospital with a resolve she hadnt felt in years. All the anger shed been holding melted away when she looked at that helpless little boy, a mirror of her own girls.
Fifteen years later Mick, now called Michael, got his callup papers for the army. Listen to your sergeant, lad, and do your best. Times are tough, his motherinlaw would say, patting his head.
He shouted back, Dont worry, Mum, Ill make you proud! Ill get a job at the garage like Uncle Robbie says they pay well.
Lucy ran a hand through his unruly ginger hair, smiling at the man hed become.
Lifes a winding lane through the countryside, sometimes throwing you into unexpected turns. Lucy once thought her fate was a cruel test, a fresh wound from her husbands betrayal. But tucked among the thorns of resentment grew a fragile sprout a boy whod done nothing wrong but be born.
Her heart saw what eyes often miss: not a strangers blood, but a lonely soul yearning for warmth. It heard not a cry of another childs burden but a soft whisper of Mum. And against all logic, fear and fatigue, Lucy reached out.
Years have shown her that kindness isnt a sacrifice; its a gift. Mick never turned out to be an extra mouth to feed he became the one who fetched water from the well while Lucy weeded the rows, the one who cheered her daughters when life felt heavy, and the one who, grown up, still says Thank you, Mum with a grin that holds a whole universe.
