Pockets
Mum, honestly, can you hear yourself? At it again about your pockets! What will you do with a will? Why are you bothering with that? Are you planning to leave us already? Emily jabbed a finger at the ceiling, frowning. Theres nothing for you up there! We need you here!
After brushing away her daughters never-ending attempts to reason with her, Mrs. Elizabeth Andrews went back to work. Emily pounded the dough with such force the kitchen table shook, and the familys cats bolted from the kitchen out to the conservatory, well aware their owner was in no mood for nonsense.
It needs doing, Emmie! I just want to do things properly, thats all, Elizabeth glanced after the scurrying cats, returning to her apples.
The apples she diced for the filling were perfectbig, fragrant, and full of all the golden warmth of autumn, just like the season that enveloped the garden of Emilys cottage.
The cottage had come to Emily by way of her grandfathera spacious, old place, sighing and settling through the night, holding more secrets than even the family could imagine. Even when Emily was a girl visiting every summer, sure she knew every corner, she still uncovered things: a hidden nook up in the attic, a half-collapsed bench masked in the garden. The house had a life of its own, disconnected from the joys and worries that filled its rooms for nearly a century. Once, it was built as a retreat for Emilys great-grandfather, a writer of some renown. There, an ever-growing family had liveduncles and aunts, cousins and great-auntsgently seeing out their days surrounded by kindness. At least, while great-grandfather was alive. After he passed, it was his third wifepassionate, misunderstoodwho threw out everyone except her own mother and sons, insisting shed had enough of shared living.
The family was stunned. After all, Lily, whod smiled at them through the years for her husbands sake, turned them out without a second thought.
Lily dear, but how could you? Benjamin
Benjamins gone! Lily snapped, and packed the others off. This house is mine now!
Everyone obeyed, and the cottage aged overnight; it groaned, creaked, and filled the remaining guests with midnight unease. Laughter no longer bounced from room to room, teasing and comforting in equal measure. There were no more gatherings on the verandah with endless tea and friendly banter, no more of the head of the family who turned every stranger into kin, even when the tangled roots of the family tree made relations unclear.
Lily didnt last long as the mistress of the house. First, she fell out with her mother, then her eldest son; he left for London after a blazing row. Lastly, with her youngest, who had nowhere to go, and so stayed behind, rattling about the empty place, desperate not to return to the impersonal city flat where he was barely welcome.
With the young voices back, the cottage revived a littleshouts of joy, the giggles of girls drifting from shadowed corners, life seeping into the old, worn walls, if only for a season. But tragedy struck again when Lilys water-mad youngest son drowned in a boating accident on the nearby lake. Lily herself didnt find out straight away, having cut off contact after another argument. Her mother, frantic on the telephone and repeatedly visiting Lilys flat, didnt finally relay the news until days later. By then, the wider familythose shed once banishedhad taken care of everything for her boy, whod just turned eighteen.
This barely touched Lily, who coldly thanked everyone, drank through the wake, and blamed anyone but herself for what had happened.
You must live with me! she insisted to her remaining son, Matthew, when he came to say goodbye to his brother.
No, Mum. I cant. I have a family of my own. Im married. My wifes expectingwere having a child. Thats why she didnt come.
What family? Im your family! Dont you see? Ive lost a son!
And Ive lost a brother! Matthew retorted, refusing to raise his voice. Dont shout, Mum shouting will not bring him back.
Lily broke down, sobbing to her mother, desperate for someone to listen, but even her own mother had had enough.
You chased everyone away, Lily! Now youre going to lose Matthew too. Youll have a grandson soonand you didnt even notice!
A grandson? You too now?! Ive never even seen his wife! She could be pregnant with any mans child, fooling Matthew!
Enough, Lily! I know youre grieving, but dont go too far. I wont listen anymore.
Fine! Youve all abandoned me! And after everything Ive done!
What is everything, Lily? her mother asked, voice hollow with pain. Even Lily was unsettled. Think who you abandoned, and you might just find someone worth keeping. I spoiled youafter your father died, you were only three. I thought I should be gentle with you, but instead, it did you no good
Oh, stop it. You think if youd nagged Id be any better than I am? Nonsense! Ive never done anything wrong. Ill speak to Matthew, dont stop me!
Dont you dare! her mother suddenly went steely. Lily backed off, for once shaken. Step into his life and youll lose him for good! Why cant you see that?
Let him go then! Im already alone! Lilys tears streamed down her red cheeks. No one loves me!
And do you love anyone?
The question from her mother threw Lily. While she fumbled for an answer, her mother left her to her thoughts, which never brought any answers Lily would have liked.
When the day came for him to leave, Matthew made one last attempt to talk, but Lily refused to hear him.
Youll come back, once you see I was right!
About what, Mum? Why so much bitterness?
Oh, never mind! Go on, then! And I never want to see you again! Lily screamed, surprising even herself. Shed never been given to outbursts, but in that moment, she half-expected to stamp her feet like a character in some bad play.
Thankfully, Matthew didnt stay to see it. The taxi door slammed. He looked back, one last time, at the rambling cottage, already missing the barefoot, laughter-filled summers of his boyhood, when Dad was still alive.
He never made peace with his mother. Weeks later, Lily had had too much to drink, went for a walk, and was struck by a car. As Matthew and his grandmother made their way to London, the extended clan reappeared: a flurry of organisation, arranging for Lily to be buried next to her husband, quietly mourning a woman whose life had been too short and too empty to even meet her first grandchild.
That boycalled Samnever knew his grandmother or her ways, but somehow turned out so like her that his family could only marvel. No matter how strict his parents, how hard they worked to teach him about love and responsibility and true happiness, something was always missing.
Sam divorced his first wife only a month after the wedding, alleging unfaithfulness without reason. When he met Elizabeth, he thought hed finally found peace, but that hope faded, too. Their daughter, Emily, born five years later, was nothing like her father.
How? How could a blue-eyed, fair-haired man have a dark-eyed, dark-haired daughter? Explain that, Elizabeth! Sam demanded of his tearful wife.
Nothingnot old family photos, not the clear resemblance to Sams sidecould persuade him otherwise.
You all just want me to stay with Elizabeth! he raged, pacing the cottage veranda. Well, I refuse! She can go!
Enough! said Matthew, tired of his sons dramatics. Emily is our granddaughter. Shell stay as long as her mother wishes. Liz, love, go to your roomdont let him upset you. Your milk will dry up. And you, my boy, get yourself back to your city flat.
Ill live wherever I please! Sam protested.
No, you wont. This is my cottage, my rules. Come back when youve come to your senses! For nowleave. And think on: youre not getting any younger! Dont push your luck, or youll end up alone.
Let me be! Far better that, than being made a fool of! Sam slammed the door and left.
Elizabeth stayed. So did Emily, for whom the cottage became the best and most beloved place on earth.
Her childhood was filled with warmthher mothers hugs, her grannys stories, fishing with Grandpa, endless swings in the old garden. Only her father was missing, but as shed never known him, she never missed him. When she turned five, Elizabeth remarried. Her new husband became Emilys stepdad, though Emily never called him that. She simply decided her real dad had come back, and called him Dad from the start.
When Elizabeth tried to explain the truth, Matthew intervened.
Leave her be. Shes a child. Let things happen. We tried with Sam. Thats his choice. Please, just promise we wont lose touch with our granddaughter.
Of course not! I could never! Not after all youve done for me
Another year, and the family moved to DevonElizabeths husbands new job. Emily kept in close touch with her grandparents, always visiting during holidays, until her stepdad passed away and Elizabeth decided to move back to London, where family waited. By now, her in-laws were ailing, and Sam was again trying to sort his personal lifewithout success. But hope never left him; he threw himself into new romances, never considering remarriage or fatherhood again.
After weighing everything, Elizabeth rolled up her sleeves, set about restoring the old cottage, and brought Sams parents there to live.
Its for the best. The airs fresher here, and weve got modern conveniences at last.
Lizzie, you even sold your flat! Surely you didnt spend everything? Matthew and his wife marvelled as the rejuvenated cottage seemed younger than ever before.
Of course not. My late husband was a good earner. Emily and I have all we need, and Im working, too. Now that I speak French, Spanish and even a bit of Chinese, translation work never stops. I can work from here and be with you. Once were settled, Ill invest whats left in a place for Emily.
Heavens, it feels like a dream! Grandma hugged Emily tightly. Our girl, home again, all together! Such joy
Only one thing niggled at the happiness: Sam flatly refused to speak to his only daughter, no matter how Elizabeth and Matthew pleaded.
Emily grew up, went to university, got married. Grandma pinned her veil in her thick, dark hair; Grandpa walked her down the garden path to the waiting groom, through an autumn garden bright with colour. Emily laughed, Elizabeth wiped away tears, and Sam, persuaded to attend, muttered,
I must be getting old, avoiding his ex-wifes gaze.
Were all getting on, Sam, Elizabeth replied, thinking: at least now, the man shed once loved could see their daughter happy.
Sam left almost as soon as the ceremony ended. After that, however, he began to visit the cottage from time to time, often just missing Emily and her husband on their trips to see Elizabeth and the grandparents.
Years passed. Emily became a mother herself. Matthew lived to see his great-grandchildren, then quietly passed away, soon followed by his wife.
It was then Elizabeth once more faced her ex-husbands difficult character.
The cottage is mine!
But Matthew left it to Emily in his will.
I dont care! Ill contest it!
Sam, what will that get you? You’re silver-haired now! Youve only got Emily left Elizabeth couldnt help but shout. You cant take it with you! What pockets will you need over there? Youve got grandchildren now, and still you fight everyone!
Im not even sure shes my daughter! And you go on about grandchildren!
Fine! Go to court! So will I!
What for?
Well get a DNA test. Im tired of listening to you harp on!
Sam faltered, shot her a strange look, then nodded.
All right. No courts. Lets do it.
Of course, the test proved Emily was his daughter. For a moment, Sam found some peacewhich happened just in time.
He learned the news a month or two later.
Ive got maybe two months left, Liz, he told Elizabeth one afternoon, while she was busy pickling tomatoes in the kitchen.
She dropped the jar, burst into tears, startling the grandchildren, who quickly joined in, unaware why Granny had suddenly dashed to hug the grumpy figure they knew from the cottage.
Oh, Sam! Why didnt you say?
Im saying now Dont cry! Its miserable enough as it is.
Isnt there something we can do?
Doctors say no.
Well, thats their view! Well see. Elizabeth ripped off her apron, gathered up the grandkids and shooed them outside. Enough blubbering! Go on, out to the swings. I need to have a word with your grandfather.
Instead of two months, Sam lasted nearly a year.
The old cottage took him in, offering peace and space to reflect. He thought over the good and the bad, remembering who had stood by him, berating himself for not recognising the gifts hed been given.
Elizabeth said little, but stayed by his sidecaring, supporting, forgiving. There was no resentment left.
Thank you, Sam.
For what?
If it wasnt for you, Id never have known real happiness.
But I hurt you so much
And if you hadnt, Id never have met my husband
Did you love him?
Yes. And he loved me. Maybe even more than I him. He accepted Emily as his own, cherished her.
And why no children together?
I tried. Twice, I miscarried. Then the doctors said no more. I thought hed leave, but he said, We’ve got Emilythats all we need.
He was a good man
The best.
And I I failed.
Were none of us angels, Sam. At least you see that now.
Think Emily will forgive me?
She did, ages ago.
And you?
I did too.
Always the soft-hearted one
And youthe fool
Thats me
He passed at the end of summer, quietly, dozing off in the rocking chair on the verandah, his last smile private to himself. Elizabeth, bustling about the kitchen, missed the moment. When she saw Sams peaceful, smiling face, she gasped and hurried to call their daughter.
Emily arrived to find her mother in tearsproper, genuine sobs the likes of which Emily had never heard from her before.
Mum, why?
Why am I crying? Because I feel sorry for him. Someone has to mourn, no matter what kind of life a person led.
Why pity him? After all he
No, Emily, stop. He’s gone now. Thats an end to it. Im not just mourning him.
What else then?
For my own life. For lost love. For all those who held me up when I needed themyour grandmother and grandfather. I miss them so much.
So do I
And your fatherthey loved him too. They never managed to change his ways, but they loved him and wanted the best for him
He never got it
No. He thought a person is meant to be alone, like a wolf. Only wolves live in packs. If only hed seen it sooner! Things might have turned out differently. Too late now.
Pockets, Mum? Emily hugged her mother.
Yes, Emmie. Where your fathers gone, there arent any pockets.
Sams will gave everything to Emily. But when she discovered hed fathered another childa son, unrecognised and forgottenshe did what she felt was right. The boys mother hadnt planned to contact Emily, yet Emily found her brother while sorting through their fathers papers.
There were photos, and these, Emily said to the woman who looked uncannily like her own mother, setting a bundle of letters on the table.
You wrote to him, told him you were expecting.
He never replied.
I know. And you gave your son your name?
Yes.
Sent photos as he grew, hoping his father would want to see him?
Yes. Foolish hope.
Not at all! Without your letters, Id never have known I had a brother.
What do you want?
For my brother to have his share. He has a right to our fathers legacy.
What? Are you serious? Why?
Because its only fair.
And once again, the old cottage heaved a happy, contented sigh, setting the steps ready for childrens bare feet, straining to catch the laughter and chatter of the grown-ups. Smiles rang out under its wide roof as the family, now larger, gathered around the old round table on the verandah, and Emilys husband fetched the forgotten brass kettle from the attic. Polished and proud, the kettle puffed out steam, promising warmth and comfort to the old home once more.
Mum, thats plenty of apples! Emily brushed off her hands, listening to the childrens voices playing in the garden. Are we making two pies, then?
One for the children, one for the grown-ups. Theres enough of us now, Emmie!
Youre right. Thats lovely.
And the will
Mum, not today! Lets not spoil it. Emily stretched, flinging open the door to breathe in the sharp, smoky, damp tang of autumn. Weve got time for all that. Were alive, were together. Why worry about the rest? Lets just be, for once. At least for today, alright?
Alright Elizabeth nodded, embracing her daughter, listening for the heartbeat of happiness.
The old cottage groaned on the attic stair, clinked as the gate opened for the newly arrived guests, and stilled, content, as happiness made itself at home inside.
