Got Rid of It
Seriously? I dont believe you. Your mum would never do that, declared Daisy.
Oh, she absolutely would, replied Andrew with a glum look.
But we talked about this a million times, we made plans
We! The key word is we, isnt it? Andrew interrupted. Apparently she had different plans altogether
Andrew felt as uncomfortable as an Englishman at an all-you-can-eat contest. But what else was he supposed to do?!
***
This is simply gorgeous! The cottage! Do you remember, Andy, how your father dreamt of having a little place like this? Margaret, Andrews mum and Daisys ever-so-involved mother-in-law, gazed skyward, lost in nostalgia. Oh, what am I saying, you were only yay high back then! Your dad and I saved up for years to buy this place, we really did.
Margaret nestled herself into her favourite old wicker chair beneath the generous branches of the ancient apple tree. Andrew had carefully lugged it outside and set it up beside the slightly ramshackle cottage, so his mum could comfortably hold court.
There she soaked up memories and observed with no small satisfaction as Daisy and Andrew dug over the potato patch. Meanwhile, their two offspringaged five and sixwere dashing up and down the vegetable beds, giggling and playing tag. The English sun was preparing for its hasty exit, but the work wasnt nearly done. But thats why children exist, dont they? Free, obliging, and only a mild risk to marrows.
Oh, my dears, what would I do without you? Margaret sighed deeply. You see, just my luck! I meant to pop down here on the train yesterdayonly forty minutes, barely anything!when my back seized up terribly. Who else could I call but you? Still so much to dothe potatoes need earthing up, the carrots are a jungle, and dont even get me started on the other bits. Im no help at all. Cant bend, cant sit, a right liability, me.
Dont worry, Mrs. Hall, said Daisy, flashing one of those strained, terribly polite smiles reserved for in-laws and postmen. Of course, well help. Were family after all.
Though, frankly, Daisy wanted to help about as much as she wanted to step on a rake. Yet again, Andrews mother had flattened their plans! Theyd long plotted to take the boys to the water park for the weekenda much-anticipated adventure, since neither child had ever set eyes on one. But Margaret Well, she was, of course, more important than the water park (or any other fun for that matter) in Andrew’s reckoning. And Daisy obliged, because harmony is the British way.
A water park? Margaret had exclaimed over the phone. What for, eh? Breathing in buckets of chlorine? Theres a river right by the cottage! Whats more proper than wild swimming in the English countryside? Honestly, what sort of oddness is going to a water park in summer?
They didnt swim, in the end. No time. And the river, well, was only half a step up from a puddle after a music festival.
What would you do there? Feed the midges? All the locals go down to the river, but every year its muckier. Ducks bobbing about right next to you in the water. And I saw it on the tellyswimming near ducks is grimly dangerous, you know! Break out in spots and all sorts. Maybe its fine in the city but in a river, ducks are the devil.
Daisy ground her teeth and stifled a retort. The children had been desperate for a swimshe rather fancied it as wellbut how could they? The cottage wasnt going to dig itself out from under the brambles. Theyd come to help.
The cottage itself looked as if it had starred in a BBC period drama set after the apocalypse. The wooden house needed more repairs than Westminster Abbey; the fence sagged, and the gate threatened to join it at any moment. The water butts were rusted, and the raspberry, gooseberry, and currant bushes had intertwined into a mass that could serve as set dressing for Sleeping Beauty. Weeds ran rampant, and the garden beds cowered in the thick shade of neglected trees; no one had shaped those branches for years.
After Andrews father, David, passed away, Margaret had abandoned the cottage for a few years. She sold Davids carshe didnt have a license, and Andrew had his own anyway.
But one day, Margaret solemnly decreed that she couldn’t, in good conscience, let her late husbands pride and joy crumble. This was Davids dream, his lifes work as she described it! Hed poured effort into every square inch. She felt, perhaps theatrically, that shed be betraying his memory if she let the cottage go the way of the Dodo. So she threw herself into cottage upkeep with the gusto of Mary Berry at a village fete.
At first, she went alone, swaying down on the train, tinkering in the garden, but it didnt go well. Planting and weeding were always Davids thing. Margaret never much cared for the business, but she was determined to muddle along for old time’s sake.
Spare cash was a myth to Margaret. She patched the fence with whatever came to hand; in one spot, she fashioned a rustic woven repair from sticks as thick as broom handles to ones as dainty as chopsticks. When Andrew came to help, he took one look at that wobbly creation, sighed, and shook his headan English sons way of saying, Mother, honestly.
That very evening, he and Daisy held a conference in the kitchen and decided to spring for a new fence, even if the cheapest available. Even a budget job would be an improvement. They fixed the roof themselves, replaced the door, and swapped the knackered old greenhouse for a gleaming new one.
Oh, you neednt have bothered, my darlings, Margaret protested with the humility of a saint and the firmness of a brick wall. Im just tinkering to feel close to Davie, and to keep myself busy. You have your own lives! But fresh veg, fluffy new potatoes, strawberries for the grandchildrenthats cracking, isnt it? Itll do you good, youll love being here for barbecues, you can host the holidays, and then, one day, itll all be yours. Youre my only son, Andy
Oh, lets not be morose, Mum, Andrew protested, kissing her on the cheek. She hugged him tight, dabbing her eyes with a Kleenex shed had up her sleeve since 1992.
And so it went. Bit by bit, working the cottage became the all-consuming hobby that ate away every free weekend Daisy and Andrew had. And without fail, as soon as they arrived, Margaret would be stricken by some sudden malady. Swaddled in a tartan blanket, propped up in her throne, shed direct garden operations with military precision.
Andy! Take the spade with the blue handle, its sharper! Yes, that one next to the rakeoh, and theres paint on the floor, someone should do the gate as well. No rush, though! If you fancy it, Ill tell you where I keep the brushes, I got everything ready!
Andrew followed instructions like an apprentice footman, feigning enthusiasm for the muck and paint while longing to spend his weekends literally anywhere else. But Margaret always reminded them this was for their benefitthe cottage, the fruit, the dubious water supplyall for themselves and their children.
Youll inherit the lot, you know! Its all for you! shed chant merrily.
Eventually, the place looked almost habitable. They left only a smattering of strawberry plants, shrunk the veg beds, planted a load of flowers, and scattered grass seed until a lush green lawn carpeted the garden. At last, one could entertain here without fearing tetanus.
Daisy, why dont we have your birthday here at the cottage? Andrew suggested one day. Invite a load of friends, have a barbecue, maybe fish in the river
I rather like that idea, Daisy replied, genuine for the first time in what felt like donkeys years.
Truly, after all that work and money poured in, surely it was their turn for a bit of fun.
Daisy phoned her best mate and set things in motion. Theyd been close for years, their kids about the same age, and naturally Daisy also invited her cousin and his other half.
The preparations were almost enjoyable: trips to the supermarket laden with nibbles, sausages, and all manner of treats had the kids buzzing. Everyone was counting down the daysguests prepared presents, children planned games; a celebration at the cottage at last!
But when Daisy and Andrew drove out to the cottage the day before to drop things off, they were greeted by a rather impressive new padlock hanging from the gate. Not theirs.
Wait, what? Andrew frowned, dangling their utterly useless old keys.
From the boot of their car peeked a shiny new barbecue, skewers, fishing rods, and enough gear for a bank holiday weekend of revelry. The children had already spilled out into the garden, no doubt eyeing nettles with intent.
Daisy stood there, speechless.
You know Andrews memory kicked awkwardly into gear. Mum called yesterday, but I couldnt answer. Then I saw a message: she said she had a surprise for us and shed tell me soon. I didnt think much of it, and then completely forgot Ill ring her.
Mum! Did you change the lock on the gate? he questioned immediately when his mum picked up.
Oh, Andy! Youve ruined the surprise! Margarets voice was thick with regret. Why are you even there?
Thats when the bombshell dropped: Margaret had only gone and sold the cottage. Two days ago.
They gave me a right good price for it, she explained. It would have been madness to refuse! You always grumbled whenever you came, Im not daftyou found it such a chore! You probably cursed me every which way Well, now you dont have to anymore! Ive unburdened myself. And you! It was all sorted fast, trustworthy buyersa colleague from work took care of everything.
You sold our cottage?! Andrew stammered, stunned.
Not our cottage, darlingmine. It was never yours, if were being picky. But its all sorted! And the real surprise is were all going on holiday! To the seaside, together! Thats what I meant to announce grandly, at Daisys birthday. You lot have never been, youre always working yourself into the ground, so I thought you deserved it. And whats left overIll put in a savings account. So, why are you at the cottage today anyway?
Daisy started sobbing right there in the car. Andrew just stared grimly through the windscreen, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The boys, unbothered, dashed about as if the world hadnt just changed for ever.
Oh, well, never mind the cottage, Andrew finally muttered. One less thing for everyone to whinge about, I suppose.
I just feel sad for all the hours, all the weekends we spent heresweat and blisters for nothing, Daisy sniffed.
They gazed out at the view: the roof they had just repaired, the apple tree heavy with fruit, the new fencewhich now belonged to somebody else entirely.
Yeah sighed Andrew. But what can you do? And you know, I dont even want to go to the seaside she can go by herself
***
Of course, they all went to the seaside anyway. Margaret insisted. In the end, she, Daisy, Andrew, and their boys all had a cheerful, sandy time.
Look at this! What a royal treat Ive given you! All for your sake, my dears, Margaret boasted, practically crowning herself. David would have approved, Im certain.
She never did quite stop missing her husband. But in that moment, Margaret decided shed spent enough time remembering him via weeding and fence repairs. Now it was time for the living.
We only go around once, dont we? she declared contentedly, watching her grandsons tear around the beach house, tanned and feral. Live life to the full, thats what they say! She had no regrets.
***
I really do miss that cottage, Daisy often told Andrew afterwards. We put our hearts into it.
How could we not? Every stone, every weeddone with our own hands. But Mum was over it, plain and simple! She said it herselfa burden! And apparently, it was never ours anywayshe made that quite clear. One must, it seems, earn ones own property
Earn it, right Daisy murmured, pondering many things she chose not to say out loud. No sense ruffling Andrews feathers, was there?
