Millie was fast asleep when someone rang the doorbell.
“Goodness. Who’s here at this hour?” she muttered, rolling over. But the ringing didn’t stop.
“What do you want?” Millie said with irritation, getting up. She wrapped a robe around herself and went to the door, peering through the peephole. Standing there was a frazzled old lady holding a large cat.
“Who is it?” Millie asked sternly, having no intention to open the door. She had heard too many stories. But then the old lady groaned. Millie looked again and saw the woman slowly sliding down the wall, dropping the cat who nervously circled her.
“What am I getting into,” thought Millie, opening the door.
“Granny, are you alright? I’ll call an ambulance. Everything will be fine, just hang in there.”
She supported the old woman under her arms, helping her into the flat. After settling her on the sofa, she rushed to phone an ambulance.
The cat watched Millie with curiosity as it stayed close to the old woman.
“The ambulance will be here soon. What’s your name, Granny?”
“Antonia Simmons,” the old lady croaked. “My papers… over there,” she said, gesturing behind her.
Millie found a small backpack and helped the granny take it off, retrieving her documents.
“But dear, I’m not going to the hospital. I need to take money to my grandson, or he’ll throw us out on the street. And who will care for my kitty?”
“Let’s see what the doctor says before you do anything, and I’ll look after your cat. But why are you bringing money to your grandson instead of him coming to you?”
“Oh, don’t ask, dear. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
The doorbell rang, and Millie let in the doctor and nurse. They quickly checked the old woman over and turned to Millie.
“We’re taking her to the hospital. You’ll find her in St. Mary’s. You can visit tomorrow, and bring a mug, plate, and spare clothing.”
“I’m not going,” the old woman protested.
“Go, Granny. I’ll visit you tomorrow, and don’t worry about the cat. I adore cats; we’ll be fine together.”
****
The next morning, Millie rose early, pondering, “Why am I always getting into something?” But then she thought the granny seemed nice, maybe they could become friends.
***
Millie grew up in a troubled home, with parents who drank heavily and had no time for her, so she always loved the elderly women around her. One might give her a pat on the head, another tie her hair, or a kind one might even share some pie. This Granny reminded Millie of her childhood and made her a little sad. Her parents had passed when she was just 13, victims of adulterated alcohol. Only a kind neighborly granny kept Millie from feeling completely isolated in the orphanage. But at 16, she lost her neighbor, Mary Hadley, and was all alone.
***
At 23, Millie was a sensible woman. The orphanage taught her self-reliance, so when she decided to look into the grandson, she wasn’t afraid.
She had noted his address from the old woman’s papers the day before.
The place wasn’t too far, and soon Millie was at a house on Bakers Street. A bench outside the entrance had two elderly women sitting on it, and Millie decided to chat with them, hoping they might know something.
The conversation flowed, and within ten minutes, Millie knew all about her new acquaintance.
It seemed the granny had lived here for years, raising her grandson alone after the daughter and son-in-law died when he was a boy. As he grew, he fell in with a bad crowd. Now 18, he behaved awfully, bullying Granny if she didn’t bring money, and threatened to harm her cat. The apartment he inherited, he rented out, while he moved where life was easier. Despite Granny’s calls, the police never intervened, brushing it off as family quarrels.
Millie was incensed. She stormed up the stairs and banged on the door. A bleary-eyed young man, clearly drunk, answered.
“You little scoundrel! How dare you mistreat your own grandmother? Don’t you feel ashamed?”
Millie bulldozed right over him, not letting him get a word in. “Here’s what you’ll do, you rascal. Pack your things and head back to your place. Got it?”
The stunned young man nodded silently.
“And if I hear you’ve bothered Granny again, I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” he grumbled. “Who are you anyway?”
“It’s none of your business. But mess up again, and they’ll find something interesting in your place and you’ll end up in trouble.” Millie had heard this threat a lot at the orphanage.
Fifteen minutes later, the young man left with his belongings, and Millie stayed behind to tidy up Granny’s flat. She had to finish quickly, as she also needed to visit Antonia and pick up supplies for the cat. She wasn’t alone now, after all.
***
Antonia was thrilled to see Millie again. The young woman unpacked some groceries.
“This is for you to eat. Don’t worry about a thing – your cat is well-fed. As for your grandson, I told him he couldn’t stay there, and it’s not right to put an elderly woman on the street.”
“Thank you, dear. I thought I’d end up out there, with no one to care.”
“I’ll care for you and your cat. Rest up; I’ll visit again tomorrow.”
***
A week later, Millie fetched Antonia from the hospital and brought her home.
“My goodness, it’s so clean! How can I ever thank you, dear?”
“I don’t need anything, except maybe to call you Granny?”
“Of course you can, my sweet girl. What would I do without you?”
The content cat sat watching them. It was fed, pampered, and no longer dragged through the cold, wet streets – what more could a cat ask for? Most importantly, that unpleasant young man wasn’t there to sneak in a kick.
***
A year went by, and Millie got so used to Antonia being like her grandmother, she almost believed it was true. Still, that grandson occasionally darkened her mood. So, they decided Millie would move into Granny’s flat, and she’d rent out her tiny studio for a bit of extra cash.
Millie insisted handing over the rental income to the granny, doing so faithfully, despite any protests.
“Granny, I’m living in such a lovely place for free! My conscience wouldn’t allow it otherwise.”
A year later, the grandson died in a drunken brawl.
***
Two years later, fate stepped in for Millie. It was an ordinary day when a new young doctor started at the local practice, a little older than Millie. He took such great care of Granny and prescribed her the perfect treatments, that Millie found herself falling in love for the first time.
“Oh, my dear girl, he’s a good one. Don’t let him slip away. So considerate, polite, and decent.”
***
When Peter proposed, Millie beamed and shed a tear. So much joy filled her heart. And then, with their first child’s birth a year later, Millie was the happiest mother, and Antonia the most overjoyed great-grandmother.
For 12 more years, they shared their lives until Antonia peacefully passed at 95. Despite her age, she was sharp and helpful to Millie until the end. Millie wept openly. After the funeral, it took time and support from Peter and the kids to comfort her. The old cat was long gone, replaced by another stray.
A month later, it was time to vacate the apartment, since it belonged to Antonia. Millie refused to take the place, though Antonia had insisted.
While sorting through her papers, Millie stumbled upon a letter:
“Millie, my dear girl! If you only knew how much happiness you brought me. You reminded me of my own daughter, Vicky. Without you, I wouldn’t have lived such joyful years.
Thank you, and please accept my gift waiting in the sideboard’s bottom drawer. You deserve it, my beloved granddaughter.”
Millie sobbed uncontrollably. Antonia had often called her granddaughter, but “beloved” struck a deep chord.
“What happened?” Peter asked.
Silently, she passed him the letter.
Peter finished reading and moved to the sideboard. Pulling out the drawers, he found a hidden stash. It held an old document and a thick bundle with a note.
“Millie, here’s a deed for the flat. It’s been done for ages, so no arguing or refusing. The money in the bundle is yours, from renting the flat. Use it wisely as I trust you will.”
Millie and Peter went on to lead long and joyful lives surrounded by children, grandchildren, and eventually great-grandchildren.
