“Auntie Zoe, wheres Mikey?”
“What dyou want with him?”
“We were supposed to go berry-picking this morning.”
“Hes gone, luvrun off with the lads.”
“Gone?” The girls lips trembled. “But he promised”
“Listen, Tilly, why dyou cling to that boy, eh? Youll be chasing after men soon enough, and here you are, still trailing after a lad. Go onplay with the girls. Leave Mikey alone, for goodness sake.”
Zoe couldnt stand this gap-toothed, big-lipped, long-legged Tilly, who reminded her of a heron in the marsh. Just looking at the girl made her skin crawla child, yet so unpleasant.
Tillys eyes welled up, her lips quivering.
“Ugh, what a mess,” Zoe muttered, shaking her head before stomping into the yard. The girl was like a burr, always stuck to that boy.
Just then, her son Mikey darted out of the shed.
“Where to?”
“The woods.”
“Did you muck out the pigs?”
“Done it, Mum.”
“Straw laid fresh?”
“Laid it.”
“And the chickens”
“Mum, Ive been working since dawn! Its my summer holiday, and the lads are waiting. We planned this ages ago!”
“Which lads?”
“Mum, really? Just the usualTommy, Billy, Stevie, Pete, and Dave.”
“Nobody else?”
“No, Mum. Ive got to go.”
“That gap-toothed oneshe tagging along? One girl with a pack of boys?”
“Mum, enough! Whats Tilly ever done to you? Shes my friend.”
“Friend, my foot,” Zoe hissed, grabbing his shoulder. “Dont mix with her, son. Shell twist you up, mark my words. Just listen to me.”
“Mum, what are you on about?” The boy wrenched free and sprinted off, leaping onto his bike without a glance back.
“Tilly! Tilly!” His voice rang out. Zoe sat heavily andto her own surprisewept. Why was that girl so fixated on him? What did she want? In a couple of years, hed start courting, and then what? Drag that gap-toothed creature home, saying, “Mum, Dad, heres my bridelove her like me.” No. Never.
Wiping her tears, Zoe stood resolutely and marched to the gate. She hesitated, as if weighing her next move, then strode down the lane.
Near the fence, children played in a heap of yellow sand. Zoe called to a tousle-haired lad.
“Andy, your mum home?”
“Aye,” the boy mumbled, digging intently.
“Fetch her.”
“Mum!” he bellowed.
Ugh. Shed hoped hed run, but nojust shouted. Gap-toothed like his sister, the whole lot of them.
“Coming!” a voice answered from behind the fence.
Out waddled AnnieAndy and Tillys mother, freckled and thick-lipped, just as long-legged as her daughter.
“Annie, over here.”
“Afternoon, Zoe. Whats happened? The kids all right?” She wiped floury hands on her apron, eyes wide.
“Nothings happenedGod forbid. But it might. Rein in your Tilly. Shes a girl, yet”
“What?”
“Traipsing after boys, clinging to my Mikey.”
“Zoe, have you lost your wits? Theyre just kids! Running about, picking berries, fetching corn for the rabbitssame as we did!”
“Maybe you did. I didnt.”
“Oh, listen to you! Who chased my brother Jack, eh? Your own mum had to drag you home by the ear! I rememberIm only four years younger. I saw you two smoking behind the shed, giggling over those filthy pictures, sneaking off fishing, kissingdont tell me it never happened!”
“Ive said my piece. Control your girl, or shell end up in trouble.”
“And you didnt? Or is PaulJacks boy”
“You stupid cow! Why would I want your lot? My kids are my husbands, but yourswho knows what stock theyre from?”
“Me? Whats that mean? Lost your mind, woman? Ive a good man who loves methats why were happy. Yours is stuck with you out of fear. You grabbed the first bloke whod have you after Jack dumped youno one else wanted a nag like you!”
Zoe knew Annie had a sharp tongue. Most women avoided hernot that Zoe was a pushover herself.
Meanwhile, the kids, berries gathered, dashed to the brook, stripping as they ran, splashing, laughing, indistinguishableboys, girls, all innocent, unashamed. Only later would they become something else.
For now, they lay sprawled on the sand, bare-bottomed, dreaming, chatting.
“Whatll you be when you grow up, Pete?”
“Like me dada mechanic.”
“And you, Tilly? A singer?”
“Why a singer?”
“All girls want to be actresses. Five minutes, five minutes!” Dave mimicked.
Tilly snorted. “You do that. Ill be a pilot or a scientist.”
“Ha! They dont take girls.”
“They do,” Stevie said firmly.
Zoe fought to pull Mikey away from that gap-toothed girl, relieved when he left for the army. Shed turn away whenever she saw Tilly.
Once, the girl came running, tearful.
“Auntie Zoe, have you heard from Mikey?”
“Got a letter yesterday. Gail the postwoman brought it.”
“Nothing for me?” Tillys lips trembled.
“Suppose he doesnt want to write to you.”
“But he always did! Why now?”
“What dyou want from me?”
The girl hunched and left.
“Found someone else out there, I reckon,” Zoe called after her.
A weddingcheerful, lively. The groom, Dave, Mikey and Tillys old friend, couldnt believe his luck when Tilly, tearful, proposedon condition they move to the city. Dave wouldve agreed to anything. Shed never noticed him before, always trailing after Mikey. When Mikey left for the army, shed wept for days. Dave, unfit for service due to some ailment, stayed by her side.
Zoe rejoicedfinally, her boy was free.
Mikey wrote home, asking why Tilly had gone silent. Zoe replied she saw her dailyfine, healthy. Why wouldnt she write? Awkward, pryingbest not.
She knew why.
Letters came.
Gail the postwoman owed Zoea hefty debt. For part of it, she intercepted Mikeys letters to Tilly and Tillys to Mikey, handing them to Zoe instead. A mother knew best.
Mikey returned from serviceno Tilly.
“Gone?”
“Married Dave. Moved to the city.”
Zoe had a nice girl in mindNadia Halfpennys daughter, Lucy. Well-off, her dad a factory manager. “Hell set you up proper.”
“Mum I dont love her.”
“Pah! Love? Look where that got you.”
A wedding. The groom stood stiff, joyless.
Never mind. Love would come. A fine house, a doting father-in-lawtime would smooth it over.
Years passed.
They say time heals.
No. It numbs, piles on duties that push old pains aside.
Ten years flew like a day.
Mikey visited with his family; Tilly and Dave came to hers.
They met by chance, exchanged nods, but couldnt part.
“Off for a smokesee Stevie,” Mikey said that evening.
“Where?” Zoe blocked the door. “Youre not going.”
“Mum”
“Lucy, go with him. No man should wander alone.”
“No, Zoe. Hes seeing a friend. Let him be.”
“To her? That doe-eyed?”
“Mum, move.”
His feet carried him to the brook. Next day, too. On the third, as he turned to leave, a silhouette appeared.
She came.
No accusations, no explanationsjust standing under their cherry tree, holding each other, the moon hiding behind clouds, sparing them its glare.
Another ten years. Then twenty.
Never once did they cross the line.
Was it love?
Yes. And responsibilityfor spouses, children, grandchildren.
Now, widowed three years, Michael stood by his wifes grave. Hed visited his parents. His mother confessed allhow shed torn him from Tilly. He forgave. A mothers love.
The ache dulled, leaving only a pang.
“Michael?”
He turned. Tilly stood thereautumn around her, yet she looked as she had at sixteen, slender, a scarf at her neck. She sat beside him on the bench.
They talked.
“Lifes gone by, Michael.”
“Gone past us, Tilly.”
“Not past. Just not together. Meant to be, maybe. Dont blame Davehe pulled me from despair. And then I grew to love him.”
“Out of gratitude?” Michael smiled faintly.
“No. For his gentle soul. For loving me despite everything. You know I loved you so much no one else mattered. But years side by side Michael, promise medont hold it against him. Be there for him.”
She rose.
“How?”
But she was already gone.
That evening, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Mate” Daves voice cracked.
“Dave? You crying?”
“Tillys gone.”
“Where?” He nearly said she wasnt with him, then understood.
“Im coming. Dont fall apart.”
“Ta mate.”
Two old friends sat shoulder to shoulder, lives spent side by side.
“Shed been poorly. Told no one to say Your wife?”
“Three years now.”
“Rough.”
“Rough, mate. A lifetime together.”
“Aye. Lets stick close. Whos left of our lot?”
“Stevie and Tony.”
“Good.”
“Life flies, doesnt it? Like a day. Yet when you look back no. Years. Seems like yesterday we were bare-arsed kids splashing here, and now”
“Same here, mate.”
Perhaps his mother had sensed something, known something. No matter now.
Lifes no straight path
Full of climbs and stumbles,
Weighted with regrets burdens
Like stones along the way.
(Nadia Joyful)
Evening now, good folks. Sending warm wishes your way. Always here for you.
