Margaret had given the man money for the bus. Later, uninvited guests showed up at her door.
Joan had spent her whole life as a teacher, but now, with her tiny pension, she had no choice but to sell vegetables at the market. Her son-in-law had moved his new wife into their flat, leaving her daughter, Emily, to return home with her little girl. Joan did whatever she could to help them.
“Mum, I feel awful watching you work so hardout in the garden, at the market all day,” Emily would say. “You should be resting.”
“Oh, love, dont you worry. While Ive still got the strength, Ill help you and little Lucy. Youre not sitting idle eitherlook how much of the garden youve weeded in just a couple of days! Id never manage it alone,” Joan replied. “And Lucy needs new shoes for school. She cant go in wearing those scuffed old things, can she?”
Thats how they got byhelping each other, believing better days would come. Of course, if Emily could just “pull herself up by her bootstraps,” she wouldnt be struggling like this.
One morning, Joan headed to the market. Her stall was in a good spot, always busy, which didnt go unnoticedespecially by another seller, Linda, who used to know Joan back in her teaching days. That day, Linda snatched her usual spot.
“Sleeping in, were you? Sorry, love, but Ive taken your pitch now. Itll take me an hour to pack up, so youll have to find somewhere else today,” Linda said, shrugging.
Joan never was one for arguments. She just set up nearby, laying out her produce. Turned out, her neighbour, Tanya, was selling next to her.
“Hows your son-in-law? Still not come back?” Tanya asked.
“No, hes got his own life now,” Joan sighed.
“Kids these daysno interest in family. Just want to live for themselves. My lads the same, still gallivanting around the countryside instead of settling down,” Tanya grumbled.
The hours passed chatting. After lunch, a young man in shabby clothes wandered into the market.
“Blimey, out already?” Linda muttered, and the other traders shot nervous glances his way.
The man made his way over to Joans stall. He dug in his pockets, looking sheepish.
“Miss, I havent got a penny to my name. Could I owe you for a couple of apples?”
“Go on then, take them. But hows a strapping lad like you broke?” Joan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Had a bit of trouble, miss. Ended up insidenot for anything serious, mind. Just a stupid mistake,” he admitted.
“No family to help you get home?”
“There is, but I dont want to bother them. Thought Id surprise em.”
“Wheres home?” Joan asked.
“Liverpool.”
“Thats a fair trek!”
He wandered off toward the train station nearby. Joan watched him talk to a driver before coming back.
“Miss, lend us a bit, would you? Otherwise, Ill never get home. I swear Ill pay you back once Im sorted,” he pleaded.
“How much dyou need?”
“Twenty quid.”
Without hesitation, Joan handed him the money, ignoring the gasps from the other sellers.
“Cant have you walking all that way,” she said.
“Thank you! Ill pay you back, promise! Names Paulwhats yours?”
“Joan.”
“Cheers, Joan!” he called over his shoulder, heading for the bus.
“You daft woman! Youll never see that money again!” Tanya huffed.
“Weve all got to help each other. Hes not an animal,” Joan said firmly, packing up.
By the weekend, Emily came down with a fever. Joan brewed her some herbal tea, doing what she could. Little Lucy tugged at her sleeve, whispering, “Nana, read me a story?”
“Course I will, love,” Joan said, ruffling her hair.
Outside, rain pattered against the windows. Emily set the table while the fire crackled in the hearth. Just as they were sitting down, a knock came at the door.
The women exchanged glancesthey werent expecting anyone.
“Hello?” a mans voice called as the door opened. Joan squinted, then gasped.
“Paul?”
“Thats me, Joan. Sorry it took so long to pay you back. Lifes been complicated.”
“I barely recognised you! Look at yousuit and tie, clean-shaven. You scrub up well!” Joan laughed.
“Join us for supper,” Emily offered shyly.
Over dinner, Paul explained how hed been wrongly sentenced to three years inside.
“Got my old job back nowhead of maintenance at the hospital. If you ever need anything, just pop by,” he finished, smiling at Emily.
A week later, a familiar car pulled up outside Joans house. Paul stepped out, clutching a huge bouquet.
“Em, love, look out the window! Your fellas here,” Joan teased, peering through the curtains. “Reckon well be hearing wedding bells soon?”
“Well then,” Emily laughed, squeezing Lucy tight. Paul handed Joan the twenty pounds, folded neatly inside the bouquet. I brought something for the garden too, he said, nodding toward the car where two bags of soil and a tray of seedlings sat waiting. Lucy ran outside in her new shoes, beaming as she helped him carry them in. That evening, the four of them planted marigolds and tomatoes together, the sun breaking through the clouds at last.
