Theres nothing closer to heart…
Barbara and her daughter got off the bus at the edge of the village. Through the thick grey winter clouds, the sun managed to peek out. The icy air stung their cheeks, and the snow was so dazzling white that little Emily had to squeeze her eyes shut.
Mum, why doesnt anybody live in that house? Emily asked, as we passed what was possibly the only abandoned house on the outskirts.
There used to be an old woman here. I never saw her relatives come to visit. She lived to be one hundred and two before she passed away.
She used to light the fireplace herself, but the neighbours brought her groceries and fetched water. They would leave food or a bucket of water on the stoop, and the next day shed either pick up the bucket or leave the money there. My friends and I helped as well.
But Mum, didnt anyone ever steal the food or the money? Emily said, puzzled.
No one dared. People called her a witch, and were wary of her. Once, no one collected the food from her porch, and then everyone realised shed died. Still, everyone was afraid to step into her house, but eventually they did and buried her. Since then the house has stood empty.
A real witch? Emily asked wide-eyed.
Nonsense, just village tales. She was simply a lonely old soul. Nobody really knew how old she wassome said two hundred, some three. Later, they found her birth record at the parish; she was one hundred and two.
Emily went quiet. Wed long since passed the empty house. The other cottages all looked well-cared for, paths through the snow swept clear.
So no one lives there because theyre still nervous? Emily pressed on, still thinking about the old lady.
I spotted a familiar figure waiting near a house.
Look, theres Granny come out to greet us! Go on, run! I grinned, and both Emily and I hurried forward.
Nan! Emily shouted, sprinting into her grandmothers arms, while Mums face broke into a wide, loving smile.
I had grown up in this village. Coming home always felt differentlike you could truly breathe here.
Mum! I hugged my mother, who held us both tight, arm around me, another tight around her granddaughter.
I just knew youd come. Ive baked pies for you. Every Saturday Ive waited out front, hoping youd turn up. Why are we standing in the cold? Lets all get inside.
The cottage was warm, immaculate, scented with baking, woodsmoke, and something unnameablethe sort of smell that seeps into old beams, wallpaper, and things after so many years. Everything was as it had ever been. I looked around, a happy smile spreading across my face. Theres just nothing like home.
Its so good to see you. Are you staying long? Mums eyes flicked to me anxiously as we sat.
Not this time. Toms still working. We couldnt wait, though. We meant to come at Christmas, but Emily fell ill, then Tom too. Well have to go back Sunday evening for work on Monday.
Shed aged since Dad died two years back, even though she was younger than him by a few years. Life in the countryside isnt easy.
Right, lets get you something to eat. Must be starving. Mum bustled into the kitchen area behind the fireplace, clattering dishes as she went, Emily trailing after her.
She set the table slowly, thoughtfully. Emily and I could have devoured everything at once, but after sampling a bit of everything, lethargy set in. Emily yawned and snuggled against her grandmothers side.
Worn out, arent you, my blossom? And youve grownwont be long before were eye to eye. Mum led her off to bed, in the little nook that had once been mine. There was only one large room in the cottage, partitioned by a wardrobe or a curtain when needed.
Let her sleep, Mum said when she returned. Now, tell me, hows life in the city? Everything alright?
It is, Mum. You know, I bumped into Rachel from the next village at the bus stationshe kept calling me Alice! I said Im Barbara, your daughter, but she just kept calling me Alice. Do I really look like your sister? Do you have her photograph?
Oh, youve seen it a hundred times. Mum looked away.
I want to see it again.
Alright, alrightlet me clear up, then Ill show you.
She brought out an old shoebox of photosmostly black and white, edges yellowed and bent. There were a few newer, colour ones as well.
Heres you as a little one. And at school. Emilys just like you were. And this one Mum frowned. Any idea who that is?
Its me! I havent got this one. I smiled.
Thats my younger sister, Alice. Your aunt.
We really do look alike. The resemblance is uncanny.
And heres her last photo, from leaving day. Mum handed me a colourful picture of a fair-haired, pretty girl. She was like a picturecouldnt take your eyes off her.
I stared at the photo for ages.
Its strange. I dont look a thing like you, Mum. I looked up, searching her eyes.
Mum sighed, almost bracing herself. Its time you knew. Aliceshewas your real mother. Sorry I never told you before; I wanted to protect you.
Mother was older when she found herself expecting, didnt want a baby, Mum began after a pause. She did heavy chores around the house, went to the sauna hoping for a miscarriage. But still, Alice was born. A real beauty, even as a baby. I was already fifteen, ended up being her main help, her nanny, really.
Back then, all the young people left for the city after schoolno future in the village. I didnt want to leave Alice and Mum alone, and there werent any decent lads left to marry. So, I stayed.
Alice always wanted to go city. She left right after school and came back two years laterwith you. You were so tiny, such a frail thing. And Alicewell, it was as if shed given all her loveliness to you.
Shed grown so thin, edgyquiet one day, then wild and laughing the next. She ran away again after just two days, left you behind and went back to the cityfor the drugs. Thats when we found out what shed gotten into. She died there not long afteran overdose in a city hostel. I went to the city to bury her; Mum was too ill by then.
Mum said we ought to put you in care, but I couldnt give you up. I thoughtwell, its just me now anyway, Id rather raise a child, someone of my own blood. The village folk never caught on, and if a few did, they kept quiet. Alice was hardly aroundcame and went. I made arrangements at the county hospital, had you registered in my name, as if I was your mother. It cost, but it was worth it. So, you became my little girl. I changed your name tooAlice called you Barbara, or Barbie. What kind of name is that? I made it officialBarbara.
A year later, your father arrived. Hed been in the army, and while he was away, Alice never told him she was expecting. When he got back, he tried to find her and learned shed died after having a baby. He was retired from the army after a wound, so he stayed. Mum accepted him, even though he and Alice werent married. Cottage life is harsh without a man. The two of us made a go of it and married. We had a good life together. He never knew about Alices drug use.
Thats why I kept quiet. Would it really have done you good to know your mother was a drug user? Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you even now, but better from me than strangers. The truth always emerges in the end. I brought you up as my own. Theres a sayingMother is not the one who bears, but the one who raises you.
I sat, stunned. Theyd hidden the truth all these years!
Where are you going? Mum cried as I went to the door.
I just need to be by myself for a moment.
Pulling on my coat, I stepped outside.
What made me share all that? I heard Mum sigh. Perhaps I shouldnt have
A drug-addict for a mother! Died of an overdose! Unthinkable At least Dads my real father. Or is he? Who knows who she was with? Lord, what am I telling myself? She was mymy mother? She left me behind for a fix. Can I really call her mother if she couldnt kick her habit for my sake?
But what am I so upset about? Its not like I was unhappy. I had a real mum and dad. They adored me That other onewhats to be done about her? Nothing. She isnt here.
It wasnt her who cradled me when I was sick Mum could have handed me over, left me in care. But she never did. I cant call her anything but my mother.
I dont know how to feel now, but perhaps its for the best. At least shes inside waiting, probably worrying too
Cold and weary, my thoughts spinning, I returned indoors. Mum hadnt moved from her seat at the table.
Im sorry. You are my mum. I love you, I whispered, hugging her.
And Im sorry too, for keeping it for so long.
Why are you two sitting in the dark? came Emilys voice, popping out from the nook. Oh, look, thats Mum in the photo! You were so pretty!
Mum gently took the photo from her hands and packed the photographs away in their box.
But I havent seen them all yet! Emily protested.
Theres time. Look at us while were still here.
That night, I couldnt sleep. Mum sighed quietly next to me, her old bed creaking as she turned.
I got up and sat beside her.
Cant sleep?
She pulled back the blanket.
Floors cold; come on in.
I slipped under the covers, pressing close to her warmth, just like I did long ago.
Still worrying? she asked.
Not anymore. Youre my only real mum. I dont need anyone else. Alice was your sister and nothing more to me.
We whispered for a while, then I returned to my own bed, tucking Mum in the way she used to do for me, and soon drifted off at last.
Next day, Mum came to see us off at the bus stop.
Dont be lonely, Nan! Well be back again soon! Emily called as I gave Mum a last hug, breathing in her familiar scent.
Go on now, before you catch cold Mum said softly.
The bus had gone, but she still stood, watching the snowy road, eyes watering from wind and cold.
So it was, at thirty-three, that I learned my birth mother had died when I was just months old, and it was Mumher elder sisterwho raised me.
At first I was angry that theyd never told me, that theyd lied my whole life. And then I realised: both women were sisters by blood, both were my family. And you cant get any closer than that.
