A Surprise for Mum
Standing on the balcony, Emily gazed pityingly at her mother-in-law, sitting alone in the dim light on the bench outside their building. Should she call her inside? If she tried, Margaret would likely lift her face and shake her headno, shed sit a little longer. The older woman only came out for fresh air when the bench was empty. She couldnt relate to the city chatter of women her agecomplaints about council tax, rising food prices, and the like. Shed spent her whole life in the countryside and had now lived with her son and daughter-in-law for two years.
“Shes really losing heart,” Emily sighed to her husband. “Its time we did something about her wish.”
“Just a bit longer,” he replied. “Not everythings ready yet for her to move.”
Two years ago, Margarets cottage had burned to the ground, leaving nothing but the foundation. The fire took everythingthe shed with the chicken coop, the small greenhouse. At the time, shed been at the market selling cucumbers and tomatoes from her garden. No one knew if it was faulty wiring or an appliance left on, but the flames spread quickly in the strong wind. By the time she returned, all that remained was ash. Neighbours still shuddered remembering how shed stumbled through the blackened yard, soot-covered, wailing in grief. Shed lived aloneonly the chickens were lostbut that cottage had been her lifes work.
After Margaret suffered a stroke, her son John and his wife Emily brought her to live with them. For months, she lay half-paralysed, but gradually, she regained some mobility.
“Mum, you should rest more. Too much walking isnt good for you,” Emily would say.
“No, I need to keep moving. Soon, Ill go back to the village,” Margaret insisted.
Everyone wondered if shed lost her mind. Did she not remember what had happened? Carefully, they probed for answers.
“You think Ive gone daft?” Margaret would chuckle. “No, I rememberthe fire, the hospital. Ill stay with my neighbour, Pauline. Shes on her own too. Ill help with chores, save my pension, and rebuild bit by bit. I know youre not rolling in money, and your granddaughter needs her room back. Im just in the way here.”
No one had the heart to tell her that Pauline had passed away, her cottage now fought over by quarrelling relatives. They feared another stroke. Pauline had been her closest friend, not just in heart but in distance. Margaret had a younger sister, Annie, but she lived up north where the winters were harsh. And her two sonsJohn and the younger one, Danny, who was always at sea as a ships engineer.
What weighed on Margaret most was living in her granddaughter Lilys room, unable to host friends. She couldnt understand why the girls never gathered at home.
“Gran, no one does that anymore! We chat online,” Lily would explain.
“What kind of friendship is that?” Margaret would sigh. “Not even a proper cup of tea together.”
Beyond feeling like a burden to Lily, she hated imposing on John and Emily, seeing how they struggled. She tried to help with cleaning and cooking, but her stiff legs and weak left hand made it hard. When she learned of Paulines death, she cried for days before announcing,
“Dont take this badly, but Ive made up my mindput me in a care home. John, youve got power of attorney. Sort it out for me. Ill have people to talk to there. If its too expensive, sell my land. Even if its cheap, itll help!”
John, Emily, and Lily were horrified, but Margaret wore them down. John claimed hed started the paperwork, sold the land, but hit bureaucratic delays. Hed even paid the care home director, who kept stalling. But autumn was coming, and Margaret had had enough.
Returning from her evening walk, she declared, “John, if you dont take me on Monday, Ill go myself! Ill march right in and demand my bedtheyve already taken the money!”
That weekend, John vanished. He returned late Sunday, whispering anxiously with Emily before telling his mother to packher room at the care home was ready.
The next morning, they set off in Johns old Vauxhall. Margaret frowned as he took the road toward her village instead of the care home.
“Mum, the main roads closed. Detour only,” he said.
Soon, familiar fields and her old village came into view. She shut her eyes, dreading the sight of her lost home. The car slowed, turning through gates. When she opened her eyes, they were pulling onto her landwhere a new red-brick house now stood. And there, smiling by the gate, was her sister Annie. The shock nearly made her faint.
Once shed recovered and embraced Annie, the truth spilled outincluding how shed almost ruined the surprise.
“Mum, wed never sell your land. We started building straight away,” John explained. “We took out a loan, Danny sent moneyits all done properly! Three bedrooms, a big kitchen with a sunroom, central heating, proper bathroom. Well, its yours and Aunt Anniesshe moved down six months ago to oversee the finishing touches. If youd waited two more weeks, the shed and chicken coop would’ve been done, and Danny wouldve been home. But you rushed us!”
Margaret laughed and cried, hugging each of them in turn. How could she ever thank them? Whod have guessed such a surprise? If only theyd told hershe mightve had another stroke from happiness! What joy, to have family like this.
