How can you let yourself fall so low? Little one, arent you ashamed? Your hands and feet are finewhy arent you working? the words echoed as a ragtag woman with a baby passed her by.
Margaret Smith shuffled down the aisles of the massive Tesco on the high street, pausing now and then to stare at the brightly coloured tins and packets. Shed been coming here every day as if it were a job. She didnt have a family to feedshe didnt have a family at all. So each evening the lonely old lady fled the quiet of her flat and slipped into the bright, bustling shop.
When the weather was warm she managed to sit on a bench with a few neighbours and have a chat, but winter left her no choice. Thats why Margaret grew fond of the new supermarkets endless aisles.
The place was always full of people, the smell of freshly brewed coffee floated around, soft music played in the background, and the colourful packs looked like childrens toyscheerful enough to coax a smile out of anyone.
She lifted a pot of strawberry yoghurt, squinted at the label, tried to make sense of the ingredients and then put it back. That sort of fancy dairy was beyond her means, but theres no harm in looking.
Scanning the shelves, memories of the past flooded back.
She remembered the long queues at the corner shop, shopgirls like tigers fighting over the few scarce items. She recalled the thick grey paper bags that used to hold her purchases.
A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of raising her daughter. Margaret would have stood in any queue just to make the little one happy. The thought of Emilyher brighteyed girl with a tumble of curly red hair, a dusting of freckles across her nose and those cheek dimplesmade her heart beat faster. She was beautiful, Margaret whispered to herself, a hint of sorrow in her voice.
She lingered by the frozenfish freezer, leaning heavily on it.
Emilys laughing face flashed in her mindthose big grey eyes, the copper curls, the sprinkle of freckles and the mischievous dimples.
From behind a stern shop assistant, Margaret drifted to the bread aisle.
Emily had been the only joy in Margarets life. Shed grown up clever and determined. When she realised a ninetofive job wouldnt bring her happiness, she turned to surrogacy, just as Margaret had warned her it wasnt a good path.
At twenty, who listens to their mum? If a real father had been there, things might have turned out differently. Yet those crooks dared rope an inexperienced girl into the mess.
Emily would laugh, rub her rounded belly, while Margaret shook her head in grief. How can you give away a child thats yours? I carried him for nine months, shed thought. Emily would just brush it off: Its not a baby, its good money.
The birth was rough, the baby didnt survive, and three days later Emily passed away too. The baby was handed over to the adoptive parents straight away. No compensation ever reached Margaretshe was only the grandmother, after all.
Margaret buried her daughter and sank deeper into solitude, as if the emptiness were a place shed rather stay in.
Now she headed for the bakery, needing to prove she wasnt just drifting about. She fished a few pennies from her coat pocket, walked to the till, counted the exact amount she needed, handed it over, and tucked the rest into her fist.
Shed first spotted a young beggar the day the shop opened, about a month ago. The girl had been on her first tour of the supermarket, eyes wide, clutching a baby tightly. What had drawn Margarets eye? Perhaps the girls fresh youth, or the tragic stillness of her pose, or the way she held the infant so protectively.
How can you sink so low? Margaret thought, stepping closer to the familiar figure. She set down a small jar of coins beside the girl and said, Little one, arent you ashamed? Your hands and feet are finewhy arent you working? You could still find a job.
The old woman winced as a few shoppers hurried past, unable to stop because a lady in front was blocking the way.
Thanks for the penny, but Ive got to go. I need to collect more, otherwise Im in trouble, the beggar replied curtly.
Margaret nodded sadly and moved away, not wanting to be a nuisance. She liked helping, even if no one else caredno police, no social services, just a world so used to streetbegging that it barely registered.
All the way home she couldnt shake the image of the poor woman with the baby. Their grey eyes and youthful voice seemed oddly familiar, like shed heard them before somewhere.
She shut the front door, slipped off her warm slippers, flicked on the lights and headed to the kitchen with the loaf of bread. Fifteen minutes later she was sipping hot tea from her favourite mug, nibbling a slice of rye with a thin slice of ham.
She must be starving out there, in this cold, Margaret mused. What a miserable life.
She glanced out the window, trying to spot the girl, and froze. Two roughlooking men were shoving the young woman into a car.
Margarets heart raced. She grabbed the phone to call the police, then stopped, fearing she might make things worse.
She looked out againnothing but an empty forecourt. She decided to wait until morning, knowing she wouldnt be able to read the licence plate from that distance.
A restless night passed, the girl and the baby lingering in her thoughts. At dawn she dreamed of Emily standing at the supermarket entrance, cradling a shivering child. The little one was blue from the cold, and Margaret pressed her close, trying to warm her. Emily said, Im not cold, Mum. Margaret pulled the child away, lifted a soft blanket, and saw a pendant shaped like a tiny bear around the girls neck.
…a familiar pendant, she murmured, startled awake. Her eyes landed on the wall clock ticking opposite her.
Why did I sleep so long? she wondered. It was already nine oclock. She jumped up, rushed to the window.
The girl and baby were still where shed seen them, the area outside the shop unchanged.
Thank heavens, she breathed, crossing herself.
It was New Years Eve night, the frost biting. The little girl had been out for over an hour, she could freeze solid by evening.
Margaret grabbed a loaf, slapped together ham sandwiches, filled a thermos with sweet tea, and slipped on a coat.
Seeing the frantic old woman, the girl covered a bruise on her temple with a warm scarf.
Dont worry, love, Margaret said, offering the food. I dont want you to starve.
The girls eyes twinkled with gratitude as she took the sandwiches, settled on a bench a short way off, and began to eat hungrily, gulping down the bread, coughing between bites. She kept an anxious eye on the baby, who wailed in anothers arms, and quickly swallowed the last bite, chased by tea. She brushed crumbs off, rushed back to Margaret.
Thanks, thatll get us through till seven, then theyll take us away, she whispered.
The rest of the afternoon Margaret kept peeking out the window, watching the thermometer climb as the frost deepened.
By five in the evening she ladled some soup into a jar and headed back to the supermarket for more provisions.
Passing the young woman, she left a jar of soup beside her, slipped a few pennies into her pocket, gave a playful wink, and hurried into the warm aisles.
She wasnt planning to linger. She needed sausage and pickles for a modest New Years saladnothing fancy, just enough to keep hunger at bay. When she left the store, the beggar was gone, the soup jar vanished. She must have found somewhere to eat, Margaret thought with a smile, and hurried home.
Shed soon be carving snacks, putting a carp in the oven, and setting the table. Perhaps a neighbour would drop by later.
It was almost ten when she looked out again, wanting to be sure the girl had been taken home to warmth.
She scanned the festive lights twinkling above the shopping centre. On a bench under a lamp, a familiar figure sat, shoulders trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Margaret dashed through the flat. The New Years party started in two hours, and someone was still out in the cold. She threw a warm scarf over her shoulders, slipped into her slippers, and raced down the stairs. She stopped beside the beggar, catching her breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and sank next to her.
I have nowhere else to go, the girl sobbed.
Hope flickered in her eyes as she clutched a small bundle and whispered, Please look after him. She pushed the bundle into Margarets hands and shuffled toward the road.
Margarets mind swirled, the girls intention suddenly crystal clear. She wasnt about to let anyone slip away from a decent life. She pulled hard, chased after the fleeing figure, caught up, and tugged her back.
What are you up to? Follow me! Margaret shouted, pointing toward the fivestorey block nearby, grabbing the girls wrist and pulling her along.
Inside the cosy room, Margaret set the baby near the heater.
Whats your name? she asked, then stopped when she saw a tiny bear pendant around the girls neck.
The girl followed her gaze and said, Dont worry, thats all I have left from my mum.
The old womans eyes widened. That pendant was a keepsake shed given to her own daughter, Emily, back when money was tight. Margaret had once handed a pretty brooch to a jeweller, who turned it into a pendant, paying her for the gold chain and leaving enough for a tiny dinner out with friends.
May I use the shower? the girl asked politely.
Granted, she slipped away, leaving Margaret nursing a cup of valerian tea.
So the beggar is her granddaughter but that cant be right, Margaret mused.
She tucked the fed baby onto the sofa and settled the girl at the table.
Alice! she called out, as if the name had just popped into her head.
How do you know? the girl asked, startled.
Margaret waved vaguely, I guess I heard you munching.
A cold bead of sweat formed on Margarets forehead. No doubtshed taken in her own grandchild. The name had been chosen for a child she never got to meet, the one shed once called Irina.
Alice smiled gratefully, eyes bright as she looked at the spread and began to eat.
Margaret stared at her, hunting for familiar features.
So, tell me, Alice, what happened to you? she prodded.
Alice launched into a rapid, tangled tale, as if spilling the weight of years of pain.
She said shed lived with her dad and mum until she was five, even owned a pony. Then the parents fought, split up, and her mum left her at a childrens home with a note of refusal. She didnt understand why. One day she was tossed out like unwanted junk. Twelve years she spent in a care home before being released into adult life.
Shed ended up in a flat meant for orphans, but was tricked into a condemned block slated for demolition. There she met Vasily, a plumber. When he learned Alice was pregnant, he vanished. The block was cleared, and she was allowed to stay in a shabby flat until delivery, only to find the new flat already occupied.
She couldnt fight for herself, not with a baby in her arms. She drifted from stations, begging at the tube. Thats when Igor Grey, a local kingpin of the homeless, spotted her.
Pretty beggar with a baby makes good cash, he thought, offering her a shabby basement flat in exchange for the money she collected.
She and her son lived in a grim cellar with lots of other beggarscripples, the sick, and a troupe of theatrical beggars who painted bruises and fake bellies to earn extra. The real actors drew good money for the owner, unlike Alice, who couldnt beg well.
Days blurred. In the mornings the beggars were sent out to their usual spots, evenings the takings were counted. Conditions were bearable, but lately the bosses pressed harderlittle baby keeps crying, its a nuisance.
Today no one came for her; theyd left her to her fate. She stared at her empty plate, sighing, Thanks, I dont even know how wed survive the night.
She set her fork down, yawned, Well leave in the morning, just need a little sleep.
Alice slumped back, eyes closing almost instantly.
Margaret woke her, led her to a bed, and placed the baby on a deep chair beside her.
The old woman sat at the New Years table, smiling as the presidents speech played on the telly. She wasnt letting her granddaughter and grandson go any time soon. Shed keep them, help Alice get back on her feet, raise the boy properly. In time shed reveal the truth of who she really was.
When the clock struck midnight, Margaret poured herself a dram of sweet liqueur, took a sip, and walked to the window, watching the street lit by lanterns. Snowflakes drifted down and she thought, Thank you, God, for this unexpected blessing. Goodbye, lonelinessnow I have a family again.
