Three years ago Margaret Carter watched her cottage go up in flames. Thank goodness she was at work that day. Shed been sobbing and shouting for weeks afterwards that house was where she was born, where shed raised her son, and where the grandchildren used to drop in for tea. Now all thats left is a pile of ash and a thick column of black smoke.
Her son Edward and his wife Felicity decided to bring her home to stay with them. Margaret could see how hard it was for Felicity a fulltime job and a house full of chores. She felt useless, hanging on Felicitys every request for the past two years, her hands still trembling from the fire. Son, I can see how much youre both struggling, she said.
Then lets admit me to a care home, Edward suggested. Theres a notice on the wall about a wonderful place just down the road. Theyll look after me and I wont be a burden.
Fine, but lets wait until May. The weather will be nicer then and well have time to sort all the paperwork, Edward added.
Margaret gave a small nod of agreement. Spring arrived, the streets grew warm, and she reminded her son of the promise: Dont forget, you and Felicity said youd take me there!
Alright, Mum, well drive you to the care home tomorrow, Edward promised. That evening she packed her few belongings a nightshirt, a cardigan and a pair of slippers with shaking hands. In the morning she kissed her grandchildren goodbye, crossed herself and left the flat. Edward started the old car and they set off.
Edward, are we missing the turn to the care home? Felicity asked. Theres roadworks, weve got to go round the back, Edward replied, a wry smile on his lips. They drove for about twenty minutes, watching the familiar countryside roll past the river, the woods, the cottages.
At first Margaret could barely believe it. It seemed theyd turned into the lane that led to her own village. Edward opened the gate and Margaret didnt recognise the front garden. She nearly lost her balance as she stepped out of the car; in front of her stood a brandnew house, with a few pallets of bricks and a couple of builders moving about.
There was no sign of the fire any more just the new home, a conservatory and a modern henhouse. Son, am I dreaming? Whats happened? she asked.
Mum, we never meant to send you to a care home, Edward said, his voice soft. We thought wed rebuild the old cottage for you, just as a surprise. Inside theres a new bathroom, cable TV and even underfloor heating. We timed the work for spring so we could finish before the garden started blooming.
Margaret broke down in tears and wrapped her arms tightly around Edward. She could barely believe the sudden turn of fortune. From then on, Edward, Felicity and the grandchildren visit her every Saturday, and the house hums with laughter.
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