Tessa was pulling weeds from the vegetable plot when a voice called her name from the back garden. She dabbed the sweat from her forehead, shuffled over to the gate, and found a woman she didnt recognise.
Hello, Tessa! Got a moment to chat? the woman said.
Hello. Come in, if youve made it this far, Tessa replied, stepping aside and setting a kettle to boil. What brings you round?
My names Nora. Weve never met, but the neighbourhood gossip tends to travel fast, so Ill cut to the chase Your late husband had a boy, a little Mick, three years old, Nora said, eyes flickering.
Tessa stared, bewildered. The woman looked a touch older than she should for the mother of a toddler.
That isnt my son. Thats my neighbour, Kates, lad, Tessa said. Your husband used to pop round often, and thats why Im seeing his spittingimagered hair just like his dad. No need for a DNA test.
What do you want from me? Tessa asked. My husband died not long ago, and Ive got no idea who he was seeing.
Nine months ago Kate passed away from a lung infection, leaving Mick an orphan. Kate was a migrant who worked in a shop, with no family of her own. Poor boy, now the childrens home is his only road ahead.
Ive got my own two daughters, born in my marriage. Are you suggesting I take this child in? It takes a certain boldness to barge into a wifes house and ask her to adopt a stray kid, Tessa snapped.
Its not exactly a stranger anymore, is it? Mick is your husbands blood, so hes not a total outsider. Hes a sweet, gentle lad. The hospital is sorting out his paperwork as we speak
Spare me the pity parade. My late husband may have left a few children, but Im not obliged to raise them all, Tessa said, arms crossed.
Just think about it, Nora said, and slipped away. Tessa poured herself a cup of tea and stared into the steaming mug, lost in thought.
Shed met Tom right after finishing her Alevels. A night out with friends, a few cheeky lads approached, and Tom stood out with his ginger mop and a smattering of freckles across his face. He was lively, recited poetry, cracked jokes, and offered to walk her home.
Fast forward a few years, they were married, moved into the old family cottage left to them by Tessas grandmother, and welcomed baby Daisy, then two years later, little Lily. Money was always tight, but they made do.
Then Tom started drinking. Tessa tried to fight his habit, but it was a losing battle. Hed disappear for days, get sacked from work, and she ended up juggling two jobs just to keep the lights on. She finally filed for divorce, thinking shed move to the city with the girls, where her sister had a spare room and a job waiting. Then, one rainy evening, Tom was hit by a car while stumbling home drunk and died on the spot. Tessa wept over his coffin, the girls sobbing beside her, tears soaking the damp soil.
Just when the dust seemed to settle, a new twist knocked on the door. Their eldest, Daisy, tall and lanky with her mothers eyes and her fathers ginger curls, bounded in.
Mum, whats for dinner? The girls and I are heading to the cinema, and Im starving! Why are you looking so glum? she asked.
Im still trying to digest the news, Tessa muttered, sighing. Ive been told that your father had a boy on the side, three years old. His mother died, and hes now in a foster home. Someone suggested we take him in.
Good grief, thats a load of news, Daisy replied. Do we even know his mother?
No. She was called Kate, but Ive never met her, Tessa answered.
So what do we do? Where is the lad now? Hes got no relatives, right?
Apparently not. Hes in the hospital, paperwork being sorted. Hes got a shock of red hair, just like his dad. Hell be eating boiled potatoes with sausages soon enough, Tessa said, gesturing toward the kitchen.
Daisy lunged for the food, and Lily followed. Tessa watched her daughters, both ginger as Tom, and thought about the stubborn power of genetics.
The next day Daisy announced, Mum, Lily and I went to the hospital to see the boy. Hes chubbycheeked, funny, looks a lot like us. Hes crying for his mum.
They brought him an apple and an orange. He reached for the toys in his cot, a nurse letting them play a few minutes. Can we adopt him? Hes practically our brother, Lily whispered.
Tessa snapped, So now you want me to sweep up after your fathers mischief? Ive got enough on my plate already, selling veg from the garden, working double shifts. You think Ill hang a stray kids future on my neck? I need to think about the girls school fees and Lilys future.
If you get legal guardianship, theres a small benefit payment, right? Surely you can feel a bit of pity for the boy? His dad was a terrible man, but hes still family, Lily pleaded.
Tessa, still seething at Toms betrayal and at her daughters insistence, decided to see the child for herself. The following morning she marched to the hospital.
Excuse me, could you tell me where little Mick, three years old, is? I hear hes about to be sent to a childrens home, she asked the nightshift nurse.
And who are you, maam? What do you want? the nurse replied.
I just want to look. Hes my husbands son from another woman. Thats all.
The nurse shrugged, Your girls were here yesterday, playing with him. He cried for his mum afterwards, but youre welcome to peek.
Tessa stepped into the ward, opened the door, and froze. There, in a tiny cot, sat a miniature version of Tom ginger curls, bright blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was fiddling with blocks, and when he saw her, he beamed.
Auntie wheres my mum? he asked.
Your mums not here, Mick, she whispered.
I want to go home, he murmured, tears welling.
Tessas heart cracked. She scooped the boy up, and a nurse shouted, You cant just take him out of here!
Mick, dont cry, love, Tessa soothed, wiping his cheeks. Ill be back. You wont have to be alone.
She left the hospital with a resolve that felt lighter than the weight of the anger that had been gnawing at her. The little ginger boy looked up at her, a spitting image of the daughters shed raised.
Fifteen years later, Mick now Mike received his callup papers for the army. He was all grown up, his cheeky grin replaced by a more serious stare.
Listen to the sergeant, lad, and do as youre told, his mother called, halfjoking, halfworried. Times are a bit mad these days.
Dont worry, Mum, Ill make you proud. Im thinking of learning the trade of car mechanics Uncle Leo works at the garage and pays well. Ill be a proper wrencheshand, Mike replied.
Tessa brushed a hand through his nowgrown ginger curls, smiling at how life had twisted like a narrow forest path, leading her to unexpected places. Shed thought the universe had handed her another cross, another sting of betrayal, but tucked among the thorns was a fragile shoot a boy whod done nothing wrong but appear.
Sometimes the heart sees what the eyes miss. It recognised in Mike not a strangers blood, but a lonely soul yearning for warmth. It heard not a shout of foreign child but a quiet plea for Mum. And despite every logical objection, every fear and fatigue, Tessa reached out.
Years taught her that kindness isnt a sacrifice; its a gift. Mike never became a extra mouth to feed he became the one who fetched water from the well while Tessa weeded, the one who made her daughters laugh when life felt heavy, the one who, as an adult, would say Thank you, Mum, and in those words the whole world seemed to settle into place.
