Young woman Lucy Harper lay in the hospital. First, shed had her appendix removed, but then something went wrongthere was a bit of inflammation and complications afterward, so they kept her in. Not that she had anywhere to rush off to. She was on sick leave, so work could wait. Meanwhile, back at the textile factorys dormitory where she lived, her roommate Liza would be thrilled to have the room to herself, with her sweetheart Pete free to visit all night if he pleased.
Lucy herself had no beau. She wasnt as striking as fair-haired Lizaquiet and reserved, too much so for twenty-six. Life just hadnt fallen into place. Liza would marry soon, and then theyd shove someone new into the room. Housing was tight at the factorythey never built enough, but workers kept coming.
All this ran through Lucys mind as she gazed at the blue sky outside and glanced at her elderly wardmate, Edith Whitmore. The woman mostly slept, but when awake, theyd chat idly, sharing bits of their lives. Lucy told her how shed ended up aloneparents gone, her older brother drinking away what little they had before landing in prison for theft.
«Just me now, Aunt Edith,» Lucy sighed.
«No husband, then?» Edith studied her. «Never?»
«Never. Like I saidjust me. One friend, and shell marry soon. What about you? Any family?»
«Course!» Edith replied proudly. «No blood kin, but my boys are always round. If something needs fixing, painting, whitewashingtheyre there.»
What followed left Lucy puzzled. Edith lived in a house on the citys edgeher parents old place. Her husband had died years ago, and theyd never had children. But longing for kids, shed taken in the lads from the estate.
«Id bake pancakes or potato pies, call em in. Half a dozen would cram round the table, wolfing it down. Their parents worked all hours at the factory nearbyleft to their own devices, they were.»
«Your husband didnt mind?»
«Grumbled, sure. But theyd fetch water, stack firewoodsaved him heavy work, so he put up with it.»
«Where are they now? Grown up, I suppose? Still visit?»
«Oh, they do! Bring their kids, some of em. Pure joy for mestill keep pancakes ready. Theyve been here to visit, actually.»
Lucy recalled a couple of visitors but hadnt paid attention.
«I havent long left, love,» Edith murmured suddenly. «Theres two ladsTommy and Billy. Not exactly homeless, but near enough. Ones with his mum, the other his dadboth working double shifts at the factory. Boys fend for themselves.»
«You feed them?» Lucy asked.
«More than that. They do homework here, help out. Streetd swallow em otherwise. Breaks my heart.»
Two days later, two boysTom and Billburst into the ward, followed by their parents: a sturdy, limping man and a woman worn thin from work and sleepless nights. Lucy, now able to walk, slipped out to give them privacy.
When she returned, Edith was asleep, fruit and biscuits on the nightstand, a bottle of yoghurt beside them. Lucy stared, wondering how the woman found strength all those years to feed other peoples children. Could she ever do the same? She remembered another boyDanny, a scamp whose parents drank so hard he sometimes slept rough. Edith took him in.
His father once stormed over, yelling she was spoiling the boy, forbidding her to «tame» him.
«What could I do?» Edith had said. «Hed still comeeat, help. Fixed a shelf once when my back gave out. Said he wasnt there for foodjust to help.»
Shed added quietly, «Lads feel things deeper than some grown-ups. Not greedy, not hardjust alone too much.»
Lucy was nearly ready for discharge, but Edith stopped getting up altogether, fretting over the boys. Then another visitor came: a smart, handsome man with a leather briefcase. Lucy moved to leave, but Edith stopped her.
«This is my Eddiepractically raised him. Meet Lucy.»
She gave a faint hello and fled. Pretty Eddie, while she was pale, thin, hair a mess, swimming in a grey hospital gown.
He stayed long. Lucy pretended to read but caught his glances, flushing each time. Leaving, he hugged Edith, then paused by Lucys bed.
«Pleasure meeting you. Get wellIll come again.»
Gone before she could reply. He returned next day, left juice by her bed. Edith slept through his visithe left teary-eyed, asking her to pass on his regards.
Come evening, Edith refused supper. Lucy held her hand.
«Listen close, love,» she whispered. «Eddies a solicitor. Last visit, I had him draw up the deed for youtook your passport from the drawer, forgive me. Live in my housenothing grand, but better than a dorm. One thing: dont abandon the boys.»
Lucy froze.
«Luv? Only three leftTom, Billy, and Danny. Need watching, so the street doesnt take em like your brother. Promise?»
Lucy broke down.
«I wont leave them. Juststay a bit longer?»
But Edith was already asleep, a faint smile on her weary face.
Eddie collected Lucy after dischargetwo days after Ediths passing, which shed spent weeping. He waited glumly by the entrance. Neither was cheerful, despite her freedom.
They buried Edith with her friends. Then came the legalitiesEddie helped. Soon, Lucy moved into the house, this unexpected gift.
None of the boys came at first, though Eddie visited often. She asked him to introduce them. One evening, he brought all three.
They became regulars. But how to keep her promise when she worked all day? Evenings, though, they spent togetherespecially damp autumn nights. She brought pancakes from the canteencheese or mince-filled. They ate hungrily, watched telly, played Monopoly, then raced home buzzing. All lived close by.
Eddie dropped in sometimes, helped arrange the houses stamp dutymodest, thankfully. Her gratitude warmed into something tender, though he didnt yet return it. Just a friend, for now.
Oddly, Dannys dad visitednot to shout, as he had at Edith, but to thank her for minding his son.
«Just dont spoil him. Hell take advantage,» he said sternly, but not unkindly.
***
So began her new life. A home of her own, different company. Liza married her Petethey visited once with Petes friend, but Lucy barely noticed the stranger. Her heart was elsewhere. Unrequited, but hope lingered.
And she remembered Edithevery corner of the warm house spoke of her.
How Lucy longed to be even a little like her. She kept the womans memory brightthis good, simple soul whod left not just a home, but a legacy of kindness Lucy now yearned to pass on.
