Granny-for-an-Hour
– Mr. Peterson, Im terribly sorry, but I need to leave a bit early today. Would you mind? My daughters fallen ill.
Mary set the prepared documents and tomorrows meeting schedule down on the table. There was still an hour left to the workday, but the nursery had called twice, so she decided to take a chance and ask permission. Shed landed her job at this construction firm not long ago, a lucky break considering her lack of experience as a secretary and the attractive appearance the advert had made such a fuss about. Staring at herself in the mirror before the interview, Mary shook her head:
– Well, that doesnt describe me at all.
Her old cardigan, which shed tried to preserve, hadnt lost its shape, but the skirt was far from perfect. Her mum had made it herself, choosing the fabric with care and spending days at the sewing machine, always needing a moment to steady her nerves before each row of stitches.
– Itll be just as good as any shop-bought skirt.
– Oh, Mum, its handmade! Of course its just as good. Mary fibbed a little, knowing how much those words meant to her.
There was never any spare cash for new clothes in their family. Mary remembered the days when her father was alive and shed never had to worry about what to wear. But that all ended when he was gone. Living on her mums wages as a nurse didnt leave much wiggle room. Still, they manageduntil Gran got ill. Relations between Marys mum, Linda, and her mother-in-law had always been strained, to say the least.
– Linda! You simply dont understand familial responsibility. Then again, given your family, its hardly surprising. But as youve married into our family, youll have to get used to the idea that we look after each other.
Back then, Mary was too young to fully grasp Grans words. It sounded grand, but over time she learnt it only ever went one way. Linda was to look after her mother-in-law, handing over most of her wages, while Gran accepted it all regally, never thinking to return a kindness. The ceaseless criticisms were endless.
– Mum, why dont you ever say anything back? Mary asked, after hearing another stream of wisdom from Gran. Linda rarely took Mary with her to visit Gran, but Gran often demanded to see the girl, leaving little choice.
– Because, Mary, I know shes wrong. I also know shes lonely and ill. Other than you and me, shes got no one. She fell out with her sister and her nephews want nothing to do with her. Linda neatly folded their laundry. Plus I promised your father I wouldnt abandon her. I cant break my promise.
Mary often wanted to snap at her gran, tell her exactly what she thought, but Linda always gently stopped her, giving her a reproachful look.
– Why bother, Mary? Look, I dont take it to heart. Let her say what she likes. What matters is that were doing the right thing and Gran wants for nothing.
– She wouldnt want for anything anyway! Mary grumbled under her breath, all too aware of how things actually worked as she got older.
Shed since learnt that her gran wasnt some poor relative. She had a large flat, another left to her by her mother which was rented out, a sizeable pension and a healthy bank accounther inheritance from Grandad. Gran was never short of anything.
– Why does she take money from you, Mum? Doesnt she have enough already? Mary scrawled indignantly in the ledger where she and her mother tracked their earnings.
– Mary! Linda slammed the tea towel on the table.
– What, Mum?
– Thats enough. Lindas tone softened. Dont start becoming
– Becoming who, Mum? Who am I becoming?
– It doesnt matter! Be yourself. Dont let all that darkness in. You dont need it. And remember thiswhatever belongs to your gran, its hers, not ours. It never has been, probably never will be. Linda quietly set down the clean cups. Mary, seeing her calm, always fell silent. Shed never been one for self-control, but each perfectly arranged cup spoke volumes for the effort it took her mother to keep it together. Dont dwell on it, dont eye it up, not even in your mind. Itll just hurt you later.
Mary understood her mothers meaning only after Gran had passed. The envelope with Grans will and farewell letter lay in a drawer by the bed. Upon reading what was inside, Linda let out a shuddering sigh, crumpled the thin sheets and tossed them aside.
– Come on, Mary. Lets go.
– Go where? Mary could barely follow.
– Weve nothing left to do here. Ive repaid every debt owed to your gran.
Mary didnt ask further questions. Later, shed find out that Gran had left everything to her nephews. Linda never revealed exactly what the letter contained, saying only once, when pressed:
– She left it all to them because theyre blood. Thats it, Mary. Dont ask more! Thats a mess we dont need. Let it stay behind us.
– Did she doubt I was her granddaughter? Mary at last couldnt resist.
– No. Linda sighed and relented. She just thought you were too much like menothing of your father about you. Not the right sort of blood.
– Is that true? Mary bit her lip. Am I really not like Dad?
– Mary! Linda dropped her head. Youre the spitting image of your Dad. Not just in looks, in spirit too. Ive never known a better person. So let me tell you one last timetake whats good from that side of the family and leave the rest behind. Theres no need to drag it with you.
Mary chose not to argue anymore. She didnt quite get her mums logic, but knew it mattered to her deeply.
Time moved on. Mary finished school and went to university. That was when the infamous skirt was made. She wore it to exams, then to lectures, then to work when she landed a job in the maths department. Its in that skirt she met the father of her son. The lucky skirt. So, when she went for her new job interview, she wore it. It was really all she hadjeans wouldnt do!
She could hear the giggles from HR as soon as she walked in, but remembering Lindas words, she straightened her back.
– So, Miss, no experience, and a small child? Where were you working before?
– I lectured at the university.
– Why the change of direction?
– I wanted to try something new. Mary did her best to sound composed, though her knees were already trembling. It seemed like another dead end.
Yet, inexplicably, she was given the jobwith a probation period. Mary never heard what they said about her after she left the office.
– Why her? Why does Mr. Peterson need a frumpy woman like that?
– He likes clever women. Lets see how she manages. Anyway, once shes dressed up proper, shell give you all a run for your money. Right, less gossip, more work!
Things with her boss, Mr. Peterson, settled quickly. Watching her thoughtfully study the coffee machine instructions, he laughed:
– First time Ive seen a woman read the instructions instead of pushing every button at once. Well get on fine!
Her duties werent so tricky after all. Mr. Peterson liked to control everything, but soon realised Mary had a sharp memory and rare persistence. She could track anyone down, arrange meetings to suit all parties, and rearrange with such tact everyone felt grateful. Schedules and appointments were always timely. The only quibbleMary sometimes had to leave early because of her daughter.
– Mary, I understand, but its becoming habitual. Ill be left without a secretary soon. Mr. Peterson leaned back, rubbing his temples.
– Migraine? Want a tablet?
– No need, itll pass. Thank you. Go onof course your daughter comes first. But you should think about finding a proper solution. Shes only in nursery, isnt she? You must only need help when shes poorly. Surely there are grandmothers or aunts, or a nanny
– I have nobody. Mary tensed, smoothing down her new blazer.
– No one at all?
– No. My mothers gone, and thats it for relatives.
– I see. Then maybe a nanny?
– I simply cant afford it right now. But youre right; Ill look for an answer. Its my problem, not yours.
Mary nodded and left his office with a heavy heart. There was Lucy in the nursery with a fever, and at home, the usual chores. She wanted to howl at her helplessness and the solitude. Why was everything always so hard? Why was she alone?
She didnt need to look far for the answer. As her mother used to say:
– Not everyone you come across is good, love. Sometimes youll only meet a handful in a lifetime. All the more reason to treasure them.
– What if I never meet any?
– Thats not possible, Mary. Youre a mathematicianwork out the probability! See? Theres always a chance. Not everyone can be bad, can they? Truly wicked people are rare. Most are just busy with their own lives, and its silly to condemn them for that We all do it, just in different ways. Some are open about it, some not. I just hope you meet more of the latter.
Mary, thinking of her mums words, regretted not heeding them when she met Lucys father. Young, driven, passionate Johneverything she lacked, he possessed. But their aspirations differed. Mary wanted family and academia; John saw no way to have both. When offered a post abroad, he accepted right away, even though hed proposed to Mary only a week before.
– We can wait a year or two, cant we?
– John I cant wait. Im pregnant
At the change in Johns face, she knew it was over.
– Do we have to do all of this now? Cant it wait? John paced anxiously.
– It cant. But dont worry! Mary stood, already moving out. Hand on the door, she turned to her now-ex fiancé. Ill manage. Have a good trip!
They never met again.
Lucy was born a month after Linda was gonea sudden heart attack at work. There were plenty of doctors, but none could save her. Mary buried her mum and forbade herself to cry.
– Later, Mum, I promise. When Lucys here, then Ill cry, alright?
But even then, there was no time for tears. Lucy was born frail and ailing. Caring for her was a full-time job, and Mary was functioning on autopilot. Laundry, cleaning, walks, mealsall on a loop. She left the university, unable to stand the whispers behind her back.
– Sorry, Mum, Im too sensitive. But I cant shed whisper, looking at Lindas photo, so as not to wake the baby. What did I do so wrong? Have a baby? Not force John into marriage? Maybe I should have! Then I wouldnt be the outsider But youd say not to listen to those behind my back. Youd say to look ahead. Thats what Im trying, Mum. Its not easy
When the time came, Mary enrolled Lucy in nursery. The first year was toughest. Sick constantly, she realised no employer would put up with the endless absence, so she stopped sending off CVs. She took an unofficial job cleaning the local hairdressers at night, telling herself thered be a better time in the future.
All these thoughts circled her mind as she travelled to fetch Lucy. Collecting her from the nursery, Mary popped into the chemist and hurried home. Unlocking the door, she greeted her neighbour out of habit:
– Hello, Julie!
– Hello! Oh, not again? Julie nodded towards Lucy, clinging to Marys hand.
– Yep. Mary struggled with the stubborn lock. Im going to get sacked. Thats the second time this month and I thought we were through itsix whole months without a cold!
– Thats nothing. Julie stopped on the stairs, My Alice was fine for a year, then monthly fevers started. Say, why not hire a nanny? Youre earning a bit better now, arent you?
– Not enough. Mary sighed, nudging Lucy inside. Shoes off, sweetheart.
– Nannies are dear these days. Youd be working just to pay them. Its a shame your mums not about.
– It is. Alright, Julie, Id better get on. Mary stepped inside and quietly sniffed back a tear.
Mum, I miss you so much
But Lucy, settling on the carpet, snapped her out of it. Mary tucked her in with a warm drink and sat pondering. Something had to change
A quiet knock startled her. Lucy was sleeping and Mary sat in the kitchen, trawling through classifieds, hardly daring to make a noise. Why didnt the person use the bell? She hastened to the door.
– Evening, Mary!
On the threshold stood Mrs. Clara Stevenson, a neighbour from the next block. Mary barely knew herthey only ever exchanged greetings.
– Hello! Is something wrong? Mary was surprised by the frail old lady.
– In a way, yes. Mind if I come in, or shall we discuss it here in the hallway?
– Oh, sorry! Please come in!
Clara Stevenson bustled into the flat and, removing her shoes, nodded at the kitchen:
– Thats the kitchen?
– Yes
– Lets go there. Best let the child sleep. Sleeps the finest medicine.
Mary, bewildered, followed the pensioner. Clara sat at the table, folded her hands on her lap, and regarded Mary with a steady look.
– So, you need a granny-for-an-hour?
– What?! Marys eyebrows shot up.
– A granny-for-an-hour. To watch your little one when needed. When shes ill or whatnot. Clara repeated patiently, and Mary suddenly heard the same tone her own mum used to use.
– I do. I really do. But I havent a clue where to find one.
– No need. Ive volunteered. What do you say? Hire me?
Mary hesitated. The offer was timely, but she hardly knew Mrs. Stevenson. How could she trust her with Lucy right away?
– Sorry, but how did you know I was looking for a nanny?
– Hardly the towns biggest secret! Clara smiled. I saw Julie today. She told me.
– I see Mrs. Stevenson, please dont take offense
– Dont fret. Ask anything you likeyoull need to, if youre letting me look after your child! Or Ill just tell you about myself, and you can decide if Im what you need.
Mary studied her closely, then decisively sat at the table. She poured some tea, pushed across the biscuit tin, and settled opposite:
– Please, go ahead!
Her story was simple enough.
– I was born right here in town. Mum and dad both worked at the factory. Proper working class. I grew up, finished school, went to the factory myself. Met my husband, married, had two sons. Raised them, got them started in life. My husband passed early, before he was fifty. My boys never came back after their National Service. Made their lives elsewhere. So I ended up on my own. Oh, I have grandchildrenfour of them, two from each son. But I rarely see them. My help wasnt needed, as their wives had mothers of their own nearby, and now the grandkids are almost grown. I never really got the chance to look after childrenI was always working, and the grandkids didnt need a granny. But watching the kids in the courtyard tugs at my heart. Id like to care for just one nearby, watch them grow, change. The idea of being a nanny wasnt mineJulie put it in my head. I thought, well, no harm in asking. Maybe Ill help you, maybe itll be good for me too. What do you reckon? I wouldnt charge much. Just think it over, love. Sleep on it; we can talk tomorrow.
Mary could do little but nod. She saw her out and sat thinking.
– What do you say, Mum? Bit odd, isnt it? I just think about it and a solution walks through the door. Is that good luck or?
Linda looked silently out of her frame. Mary couldnt sleep, worrying about entrusting Lucy to a stranger, but by morning shed made up her mind.
– Mrs. Stevenson, hello! Id like to accept.
So began their partnership, as Clara called it.
– Were colleagues, love. You work, I work. It suits us bothyour mind at rest for your daughter, and I earn a little extra for comfort.
– And your sons, do they help you?
– Oh, they do, but I rarely ask. Only when I was ill. Theyve families of their own, lots to manage. For as long as Ive got the use of my hands and feet, Ill take care of myself.
At first, Mary watched warily as Clara handled Lucy, but quickly breathed easier. The child warmed to the new nanny immediately.
– Not well, poppet? Clara felt Lucys brow at their first meeting. Never mind, Ill brew you some tea with raspberry jam and tell you a long, thrilling story. Youll drift off and wake right as rain. Trust meIve seen plenty in my time.
– I havent any raspberry jam Mary admitted.
– Lucky I brought some, then. How can you be jamming fruit when you can barely keep your head up? Off to work; well be fine here.
Within two months, Lucy had picked up new skills that left Mary open-mouthed.
– Shes only five! Shes reading! Mrs. Stevenson
– Just a bright girl, love. Shes cracking at draughts and chess, too. You should get her into a club. Ill take her.
Soon, Lucy was regularly attending chess and swimming twice a week.
– Id never be able to manage that. Where would I find the time? Mary shared with Julie. Im over the moon. Thanks, Julie!
– Dont thank me! Julie laughed. When Alice is older, Ill poach Mrs. Stevenson, you see if I dont.
Time passed, Lucy grew and started school. Claras help was needed less, but by now she and Mary were inseparable.
– Mary, love, youve been in the same spot too long. Mr. Peterson looked up from the latest forms. With your education, you could have a real career. Ever think of changing track? Youre a mathematician, arent you?
– Yes. I havent thought about it really. I like my job.
– But I need more skilled people. Youve got all you need to go further. Lets set you up with retraining, then Ill see how to use your talents best.
A new role, new chanceslife raced ahead, and Mary barely had time to say, Do I want this? Everything was improving, and soon she was more comfortable financially. Lucy was growing up, and Mary finally breathed easier.
– Well done, Mary, well done! Clara genuinely rejoiced with her.
Their friendship had long since grown deeper than colleagues. So when Clara disappeared, Mary was properly alarmed.
– Julie, where could she be? Not a word, no warning. Its not like her!
– Have you called the hospitals?
– Ive tried everywhere. The police wont helpIm not family.
– Her sons?
– They know nothing. Cant visit. How can that be? Shes their mother
– Who knows, Mary. But you cant rely on them.
– What do I do?
– Keep calling and searching. Theres nothing else.
Mary took to visiting every hospital she could.
– Are you her relation? No? Then why look for her? always the same response.
After nearly a week, Mary found Clara.
– Brought in with no ID. She woke up two days lateramnesia.
Mary stared at Clara in the ward. The small, pale woman on the bed made her heart ache.
– Why didnt you answer the phone? I couldve come sooner! What happened?
– Knocked down by a car. Temporary amnesia. Who are you? the young doctor asked.
– Daughter! Wheres the consultants office?
In a couple of hours, Clara was moved to another ward. Mary held her hand.
– How do you feel?
– Who are you?
– Im Mary. Well jog your memory later. For now, just rest and get well.
Marys calls to Clara’s sons went nowhere. They refused to visit, claiming to be too busy.
– Never mind! Well manage! Mary wanted to throw the phone, but stopped. Carefully setting it down, she sighed. You were right again, Mum. People think of themselves.
Clara was discharged a week later. Mary brought her home.
– Lucy, Mrs. Stevenson cant remember anything at the moment, so call her Granny Clara as always and keep her calm. Understood? The doctor said that may help her recover.
– Is she living with us now?
– Yes.
Lucy nodded seriously.
– Thats right.
Now it was her turn to care for Clara. Shed come home from school, heat up lunch, persuade Clara to eat, then say:
– Homework time, then well play draughts, alright?
Clara nodded happily. She called Lucy her granddaughter, Mary her daughter; it didnt matter what she called them. All that counted was that she was alive and nearly well.
Six months later, Claras son Alex finally showed up.
Mary was rushing on Lucys birthday, cake box in hand, when a tall, vaguely familiar man waved to her near the block of flats.
– Are you Mary?
– Yes.
– Im Alex, Claras son.
– Hello. Mary gripped the box tighter.
– May I see my mum?
– Of course. Why are you asking? You should have come long ago!
– Yes, well he trailed off, and Mary studied him.
– Dont judge others by your own standards. I want nothing from your mother. She saved me, supported me for years. So anything I do for her now is just gratitude.
– You misunderstand Alexs voice trembled.
– Lets just say that. And just so you knowby all means, sort out her flat and possessions, but dont even think of taking her away. Im not letting her go.
– Why? I thought Id take her home.
– If you really wanted that, youd have come earlier. There was hope then of a full recovery.
– And now?
– Now its too late. Too much times gone. So dont be surprised if she doesnt recognise you. Come on.
Mary started for the door, but Alex stopped her.
– Im sorry
– Theres no apology you owe me. I have nothing to forgive. Just dont upset her, alright?
– As you wish
Lucy opened the door, goggling at the cake box.
– What a box!
– The cakes even better! Happy Birthday, darling! Mary kissed her. Meet Alex
– Alex Stevenson.
– Alex Stevenson, Mrs. Stevensons son.
– Who? Lucy nearly dropped the cake, but Mary signalled her to hush.
– Remember what the doctor said?
– She mustnt be upset?
– Exactly. Take the cake to the kitchen, Ill be in soon.
Mrs. Stevenson didnt recognise her son. Alex looked at his mother and saw only a frail, almost birdlike woman, nothing like the sturdy, active mother hed once known.
– She wont remember us? Alex asked as he left.
– I dont know. Doctors wont say. What I do know is, she feels at peace here. Thats what matters. Theres no sense moving her now.
– I see May we visit?
– Why do you ask? Shes your mum! Come whenever you like.
Parting, Mary watched him go and felt certain itd be a long time before hed appear againif at all. She shrugged and shut the door. Let all that stay behind. They, in this home, had their own time, their own place and relationships.
– Lucy! Pop the kettle on! Its party time!
– Mum, can Granny have cake?
– She must! The biggest piece! She needs to what did she use to call it, when she gave you jam by the spoonful?
– Sweeten up a bit? Lucy giggled.
– Thats it! And it wouldnt hurt us either! Mary locked the door and followed her daughter into the kitchen.
***
Whats the lesson? I suppose its this: Family isnt always blood, nor is help always where you expect it. Sometimes, the most unlikely friendships come along when you most need them. When the world feels dark, a little light might find you after all. And even when your path is lonely, you never really walk it alone.
