Different Sorts of People
Annabelle was never an easy girl. Both Simon and Mary blamed themselvesthey spoiled their daughter far too much. But how could anyone not? She was beautiful, gentle, and seemed nothing short of a miracle. Mary struggled for years to have a child. They tried everything you could imagine, saw all the doctors in town, even travelled to London. Yet, every specialist simply shrugged and said everything was normal.
If everything was normal, then why werent they blessed with a child? An older consultant finally suggested they try alternative remedies. So they found some herbalist, an old woman from the countryside, who handed Mary a pungent concoction, instructing her to sip a few drops daily. Mary obediently drank it, grimacing at the taste, and soon after, she fell pregnant. Their happiness was unbridled; Simon was so thrilled the neighbours heard about it.
Marys pregnancy was harrowing. Simon often feared she wouldnt carry their baby to termshe was sick constantly, reacting badly to every scent, barely able to eat, her hands and feet so swollen they seemed like paddles. She slept poorly and rarely left the house. When labour began, Simon sighed in relief, but trouble had only started. She struggled for more than ten hours before the doctors decided an emergency caesarean was needed. Their daughter was fragile, exhausted, and Mary had lost so much blood she teetered on the edge of life for two days. But fortune favoured them. Mary recovered after nearly a month in the childrens hospital, returning home at last with Annabelle. Simon had missed her terribly and longed to cradle his little girlhe was absolutely over the moon.
Now, theyd have their happy life. A real, sturdy family, just as Simon had always wished.
When Annabelle turned five, Simon came home and sat down opposite Mary.
Mary, we ought to build a house. How can we spend our lives in a one-bed flat? Annabelles small now but shell get olderwont be enough room, and every girl should have her own space.
Mary always supported Simon, but this time uncertainty hit. Where would they get the money?
Ive thought it all through, said Simon. If we chip away at it gradually, rather than try to finish all at once, well manage. No need to rush.
Mary agreed. A home of their own was every familys dream.
Life, though, had its own plans. Six months later, Annabelle fell seriously ill. What started as a cold worsenedcomplications with her ears, then something else. Mary practically lived in hospitals with her. They were transferred from clinic to clinic; the family sank deep into debt. But after three hard years, Annabelle recovered.
Simon stopped mentioning the house. Forget itbetter to just pay off the debts. Still, Mary sensed that he hadnt let go of the dream completely.
By now, Annabelle was quite independent. Mary decided to take a job at the local factoryhigher pay. If they both worked hard, perhaps, someday, Simons dream would come true.
Remarkably, they finally cleared the debts when Annabelle was fourteen. Things remained tight. As Annabelle grew, so did her needsnew dresses, coats like the other girls had. With prom looming, Mary and Simon started saving what they could. They told themselves, once Annabelle finished school and went off to university, maybe then thered be time to start.
But yet again, life had other ideas. Annabelle did go to university, and the parents swelled with pride. Over the next two years, Simon managed to raise the walls of their house. The windows and doors were makeshift boards, but it was becoming a home. Two years later
It was a Saturday. Mary and Simon had just returned from the building site, exhausted but delightedtheyd installed two proper windows today. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Mary answered and shrieked. On the doorstep stood Annabelle, heavily pregnant, with a lanky young chap beside her.
Annabelle, whats all this? Mary gasped, eyes fixed on her daughters belly.
Mum, dont be so naive. Were having a babyme and Rory, Annabelle said, gesturing at the lad. Meet Rory. Hes moving in, and were going to get married.
Rory nodded sheepishly, chewing gum.
Simon arrived; everyone gathered round the table. Simon spoke first.
Annabelle, why didnt you tell us?
No pointyoud only lecture me.
What about your studies?
Doesnt matter. Rory dropped out after first year, hes doing fine.
Simon eyed the lad, who nodded again, chewing away.
So where does this family plan to get its bread, with neither of you working and a baby on the way?
Annabelle stared blankly. Well, I do have parents, dont I!
Simon retreated to the kitchen before he said something hed regret. Mary joined him. That evening everyone bedded downthe young couple on the sofa, Simon and Mary on the floor.
Morning came. Simon called Mary aside.
Mary, I think we should move to the new house. We can sort one room, the rest well finish gradually. Let the young ones have the flatas a wedding present.
Mary agreed after only a short pause. The decision was shared and the children, surprisingly, were elated. Simon and Mary took only their most essential furniture, wanting the flat not to look bare. When the van arrived, Simon hugged Annabelle.
Well then, Annabelle, the flat is yoursbe a good homemaker.
He embraced her, and he and Mary left for the new house.
House or not, there was little inside. But Mary didnt lose heart. After work, she cooked, carried water from the tap in the village, did laundry in a basin, and helped build. They hauled bricks and mixed cement. Simon tried to shield Mary from the heavy work, but she never wanted him shouldering it alone. At times, Annabelle and Rory stopped by, mostly to ask for money. Of course the parents helped where they could, but the building swallowed all their cash.
One evening, Simon couldnt hold back. Theyd popped round Annabelles for dinner.
So, Rory still doesnt have a job?
Dad, there arent any decent ones. Hes not going to kill himself on a building site for peanuts.
And why not? Isnt it his job to provide?
Annabelle tried to respond, but Simon wasnt having it.
I want to hear from your husband.
Simon seldom raised his voice, but when he did, silence reigned. Rory removed his gum and looked at Annabelle, then back at the in-laws.
I never pictured myself mixing concrete and lugging bricks.
What did you expect? That youd marry, have a child, and everything would just fall in your lap? Lifes not like that. You’ve got a family nowdo your bit. We wont be around forever.
When they left, Annabelle saw them to the door.
Annabelle, your layabout husbands still idle. Might as well have him come help finish the houseitll be his one day.
Oh, youre joking! Why should he help you? You chose to build, now it’s everyones problem!
Simon said nothing more, just got in the car. Mary hugged Annabelle, quietly pressed some notes into her palm, and followed her husband. Simon pretended not to see. After all, she was their daughter. It was hard not to.
A week later, Rory found himself a jobnot on a site, but fetching and carrying in an office. The pay was rubbish, but he seemed happy enough. Better than nothing, the parents thought.
While Mary and Simon worked in the yard, a boy from next door, about ten or eleven, often watched them curiously. He seemed desperate to help but too shy to ask. He lived with his granny in a timeworn cottage surrounded by apple trees. Mary and Simon loved nothing better than a cup of tea outside after a long dayresting the body, soothing the soul. The house was slowly, ever so slowly, coming together.
One evening, Simon again noticed the boy and called him over. Mary poured him tea and set out a plate of biscuits.
Hello, lad. What’s your name?
Hello, sir. Im Anthony.
He grinned, accepted the tea, and thanked them.
So, neighbours now, are we?
Anthony nodded.
They chatted about this and that. Anthony shared that hed lost both parents young and now cared for his ailing granny. He loved her dearly.
As Anthony left, he looked at Simon.
Would you mind if I helped you out sometimes? Its summer, no school, and Im bored stiff.
Simon glanced at Mary.
Youre welcome anytime. We could use the help. Granny wont mind?
Oh noshes very kind.
Next day, Anthony eagerly awaited Simons return from work. He took to the building work like a fish to water, quick to grasp Simons instructions. Before long, Simon told Mary to take a break.
Now this is proper help, not like working with a woman who cant tell a brick from a stone, Simon teased, winking.
Mary huffed and went inside, but she soon spotted Mrs. Petrov, Anthonys granny, sitting on a bench. Mary went straight over.
Mrs. Petrov turned out to be a gemwise, warm, thoughtful. Mary asked if it was alright for Anthony to help Simon.
Goodness, how could one object? Better a boy learns something than get up to mischief! Hell be useful as your husbands resourceful.
Mary smiledshed always felt safe with Simon, hoped that Annabelle would find such a husband one day, but that wasnt to be.
Come for tea this evening, Mrs. Petrov. We always brew up outdoors.
Ive noticed. Ill gladly comeyou must be neighbourly.
That night after chores, they lingered long in the yard. Simon and Anthony debated plumbing, while Mary and Mrs. Petrov chatted about life.
The very next day, Annabelle gave birth. Simon and Mary rushed to the hospital, loaded with treats, nappies, baby clotheseven Rory turned up, flowers in hand. Back home, they celebrated. Mary laid the table and Simon fired up a little barbecue for their guests, including Mrs. Petrov. She congratulated them sincerely, saying a new baby was always a joy.
When Annabelle returned home, Rory seemed to shape up a bit. The independence did him goodat least he wasnt drinking, which was something. Mary popped in regularly to help at first, but once overheard Rory telling Annabelle, Why does she come so often? Cant you handle the baby? Weve our own familydont need lectures on how to live. The words stung Mary deeply. She told Simon, who said, No point running over, theyll ask if they really want help! Mary stopped going unless she was passing by after work with a bag of groceries, sometimes handing it over in the corridor if Rory was about. Annabelle knew her mother had heard something, but preferred not to raise it. She was irritated herself by Marys constant presence.
Meanwhile, Simon and Anthony became close friends. Mary and Mrs. Petrov tooit was as if the families had merged. Before the new school year, Simon drove Anthony into the city and bought him a new suit and briefcase. Mrs. Petrov thanked him so profusely she cried, but Simon hugged Anthony and said, Nonsensehes like a son to me now.
One winter evening, years after theyd moved, Anthony raced over pale and frightened. Mary immediately understood. Mrs. Petrov was eighty-five and had been gravely ill. Mary hurried over; Mrs. Petrov was alone in bedit was the end. Mary returned home. Simon asked with a look, and Mary nodded. Anthony wept. Simon held him close but didnt try to stop him; he knew Anthony needed to grieve. Mary managed the funeral arrangements, and Anthony stayed with them for a while. He was only fourteen, and his future was uncertain. More likely than not, hed end up in carewe were determined against it, but decided to sort it all out later.
After the funeral, Simon persuaded the authorities that he could be Anthonys guardian. The boy was allowed to stay and even received a small benefit. Meanwhile Annabelles flat was getting even more crowded when Rorys sister arrived, abandoned by her husband, child in tow. It became chaos.
But Annabelle never complained, and we stayed out of their affairs. Over time, Anthony became even more a part of our family than our own daughter. He always helpedMary could hardly recall the last time shed carried her own shopping.
Eventually, we retired. Decided, despite Anthonys orphaned status, that he deserved a proper education. Both of us felt we must help where we could. But Anthony impressed us yet again. He started studying, found evening work, somehow supported himself with his grants and wages. He visited nearly every weekend, always with treats, always hugging us.
Then Mary fell ill. She grew frail and tiredSimon was frantic, knowing sixty was no age at all. He persuaded her to go to hospital. The doctor called him aside.
Your wife has advanced cancer. Im afraid she has six months at best. Please prepare yourself.
It felt as if the world ended. How could it be Mary? Shed hardly lived, between raising a daughter and building a home. Simon phoned Annabelle.
Annabelle, your mum is ill.
Thats unfortunate. What do you expect me to do?
She has cancer, not long left.
Simons voice broke.
Fine, Dad. Ill visit tomorrow.
She hung up, leaving Simon with a sour feelingas if hed just received truly bad news.
Annabelle visited the hospital just once. When Mary was discharged, the doctor warned me that soon shed need full-time carewouldnt even be able to eat or wash herself. Simon was ready, knowing full well they had a daughter. Surely she would help?
That time came a month later. Though Simon managed most tasks, when it came to bathing Mary, he realised he couldnt do it alone. He rang Annabelle.
Love, could you come over?
Oh Dad, what now?
I need help washing your mum. I cant manage by myself.
Oh God, now Ill be running back and forth every day. Ill try but cant promise anything.
Simon waited all day. He didnt ring again; he didnt want to hear confirmation that Annabelle truly wouldnt come, didnt want things to be said out of frustration. Wed made our own bed, trulyspoiled her, and shed grown selfish.
As evening fell and no one came, Simon did what he could on his own. It took hours. Mary cried softly:
What have I done to deserve this? I cause you pain, and myself. I wish I could just go now.
Mary, what are you saying? Theres no life for me here without you.
And what about Anthonys wedding?
Mary managed a wan smile through tears.
A month later, she was gone. Anthony cried openly; at twenty-two, just finished university, hed lost his second mum. Simon hadnt talked much about Marys illness, but Anthony could tell.
Anthony returned to our town, rented a small flat, found a job. Simon knew he was valued, hoped for a bright future for him. The house stood as a testament to their efforts, cosy and warm thanks to Marys touch. Anthony visited often, sometimes just for tea. Simon was gratefulhed tried to persuade Anthony to move in, save on rent, but the lad was stubborn. I want my independence, hed reply. Annabelle visited rarely, usually seeking money or something else, always peering around and dreaming of when they’d inherit the home. They might have moved in sooner, but Rory and his father never got on, so they all squashed into a tiny one-bedroom flat.
Simon was growing oldMarys death had left him frail. Heart trouble niggled, breath became short. He took handfuls of pills recommended by neighbours; Anthony scolded him.
You cant treat your health that way. You need to get checked outproperly.
Simon would laugh it off.
What, at my age?
One evening, his chest hurt so badly he could hardly move. He swallowed pills but the pain lingered. He called Annabelle.
Annabelle, my heart’s failing
She sounded annoyed.
Dad, take a pill or call an ambulance. I cant be running across town after work.
She hung up. Desperate, Simon rang Anthony.
Anthony, sorry I’m really not well.
Ill be right there. Hang on.
Anthony arrived quickly, with his girlfriendHelen, as Simon recalled from earlier chats. She worked as a paramedic. She checked Simon over and insisted he go in for proper care.
They both stayed for days, helping however they could. Simon told Anthony his girlfriend was a gem, he should think of marrying her. Anthony said they wanted to wait a bit, save up for their own place.
Helen and Anthony were there again when Simon was discharged. Annabelle was too busy. Just call a cab, Dad, she advised. Simon was grateful for Anthonys help. Helen made up meals for two days.
Ill do dinner for you, just heat it upIm on shift tomorrow, she explained.
Bless you, HelenIm sure I could manage, but you’re very kind.
Helen smiled, caring about others seemed second nature. That night they stayed late; it was a comfort.
The next day, Annabelle appeared. She wandered the house, asked how Simon was doing. He couldnt hold back.
You didnt even visit me in hospital
Dad, there were enough doctors for you. Would me visiting really have helped?
Of courseits different. Youre my daughter; youre family.
For goodness sake, stop harping on. You always play the victim.
Dont raise your voice. You ignored your mother when she was ill, now me. Sometimes I wonder if youre truly our daughter.
And that made Annabelle explode.
Im sick of your whining! I wish youd just die! Youre sitting here alone in a big house, while were all piled into a box. Arent you ashamed? You barely function, and make life miserable for your daughter
So thats ityou want my house, not me. You never helped build it, your husband laid about while your mother and I heaved bricks! Where were you then?
Annabelle stormed out, slamming the door. Simon wasn’t surprised, though he hadn’t expected her to wish him dead quite so openly. He realised a decision had to be made. He thought about Maryshed been appearing in his dreams lately. Maybe tonight she’d come again.
He went to bed. Morning brings new wisdom. After a peaceful nights rest, he felt stronger. Anthony rang to check in.
Anthony, you wont believeI could join the army! Slept well, having breakfast. Your fiancées a wonderful homemaker.
Thank youshe is.
Anthony, Ive a favour. Could you find a solicitor willing to come round?
Of coursewhats up?
Just some affairs to settle.
Alright, Ill call around and ring back.
SplendidIll be waiting.
An hour later, Anthony called him back.
Solicitorll be over at three. Keep an eye out. Id come, but too much work. Helen and Ill pop in tomorrow.
Don’t worry, sonIll see you tomorrow.
The solicitor arrived right on time. He seemed a bit surprised at Simons wishes, but his job was just to prepare the paperwork correctly. They finished in an hour. Once hed gone, Simon felt he’d acted rightly. He sat to write a letter.
Anthony, if you are reading this, I am gone. Dont grieveI am already holding Mary in my arms. Helen is a fine woman, and you, Anthony, I love as a son. I wish you every happiness, and a good family life. Dont delaymarry Helen. As a wedding present, I am leaving you our house. Take it; it is yours. Dont argue, dont refuse. Ill know, and Ill be hurt. So much here bears your mark; you cared for me as a son would for his own father. Mary and I decided this together.
Simon knew his time was shortpain pressed on his chest, and his body felt light. Twice now, hed sensed Marys presence in the room, as if she was waiting, letting him finish what needed doing.
He slipped the letter into a large envelope, added their photograph, and lay down, stroking the picture and remembering their life together.
Anthony helped Helen from the car, a bag of groceries in his hand. The garden was silent. Hed always liked it hereSimon kept everything immaculate. Even after Marys passing, the flowers thrived. No one would have guessed there wasnt a woman in residence.
Oddly, Simon wasnt at the door; usually, hed be watching out. Anthony pushed open the door. He and Helen hurried inside. There in the lounge, Simon lay peacefully on the sofa, clutching a photo. Anthony dropped the bagapples and oranges rolled across the floor.
Dad
Helen knelt by Simon, and looked at Anthony, shaking her head.
Anthony wept, unashamed. Helen let him be, knowing how much Simon meant to him.
Later, after Simon was taken away, Annabelle and Rory arrived. Anthony found Simons letter addressed to him. He read, while Annabelle and Rory scouted the house, tape measure in hand. Anthony finished reading and showed Helen. She glanced at Annabelle.
Annabelle, your father left this letter for me, but you may want to see it too
Annabelle snatched the letter, skimmed it, her face flushed.
Stupid old fool! Off his rocker in the end! Shouldve died sooner while he still had his wits! Well, well see about that!
She stormed out of the house, full of spite for everyone
I sit here now, older and wiser, and realise that family is not simply who you are born to, but those who love and stand by you. Kindness is the greatest legacy you can leave, and sometimes, the child you didnt raise is the one who truly becomes your own.
