The air in the dimly lit flat was thick with tension as Margaret Harrington wrinkled her nose at the memory. That scruffy girltangled braids, crumpled school blazer with a crooked collar, and cuffs stitched haphazardly. A proper mess.
She set down her custard tart with a sigh. Where was George? He’d promised to come earlytoday was the anniversary of Arthurs passing.
A knock at the door startled her.
«Who’s there? George, is that you? Forgotten your keys again?»
«Mrs. Harrington, you left them on the chair.»
«What? What keys?»
Margaret swung the door openand there she was. That same scruffy girl.
«Sedley? What keys? How did you even know where I live? Have you been following me?»
The girl shook her head. Her threadbare woolen hat sat askew, her coat frayed at the seams, knees of her stockings sagging, shoes nearly falling apart.
Only then did Margaret notice the girls eyesdeep blue, framed by thick, dark lashes.
Shed only just started teaching at the school, retired from the college but restless without work. This girlwhat was her name? Alice. Alice Sedley. Kept to herself, never mixing with the others.
«You left your keys on the chair. I called after you, but you didnt hear.»
«Oh. Right. Thank you. Must be my age showing,» Margaret forced a chuckle.
«Youre not old,» Alice said, deadly serious. «Just in a hurry, I reckon.»
«Thank you… Alice.»
«Youre welcome. Goodbye, Mrs. Harrington.»
The door clicked shut. Margaret hesitated, then flung it open again.
«Alice!» She peered down the stairwell as the girl looked up. «How did you know where I lived?»
«I live next door. I see you walking to school sometimes. Theres that dog at the cornerI stay close to you so he doesnt growl at me. He doesnt like the smell of cats. I feed themthe strays in the basement. I call him Rex. Hes homeless.»
She shrugged. «The ladies on the bench told me your address. Said you worked at my school. We take the same bus.»
Margarets pulse quickened. What a peculiar child. Was she spying?
«Fancy a cuppa?» The words slipped out before she could think.
Alice nodded instantly. Rude, reallyshe ought to have refused.
Margaret poured the tea.
«Are you… hungry?»
Alice shook her head, but her hollow cheeks betrayed her. Why was she bothering with this girl?
«Tell you whatlets have a bite. Hate eating alone, and George is late.»
She fussed, pulling food from the fridge. Alice ate neatlytoo neatly. Starving.
«Thank you,» Alice murmured, eyeing the leftover roast. «You cook lovely.»
Margaret scoffed inwardlypraising her plain cooking? The girl was desperate.
She packed leftovers into a container, added biscuits, handed them over.
Alice hesitated, then took them.
When the door closed, Margaret scolded herself. Unprofessional. Tomorrow, the girl would hug her in front of the staffor blurt something about the food.
George stumbled in the next morning, sheepish.
«What day was yesterday?» Margaret snapped.
«Thursday, Mum. Todays Friday»
«Dont be clever, George.»
«Oh, its serious now, is it?» He rolled his eyes. «Im thirty, not twelve.»
«It was your fathers anniversary. He deserved better.»
«Mum, hes gone. Does it matter if we mourn a day late?» He yawned. «Im off to bed. Day off.»
«So youre sleep-deprived. Where were you all night?»
«You really want to know?»
Margaret stormed to work, braced for Alices theatricsbut the girl barely glanced at her.
Cheeky little thing.
Days passed. No sign of her.
Then, one evening, a scream.
Margaret sprinted toward the sound. A mangy mutt had Alices sleeve in its jaws, shaking violently.
«Get off!» Margaret kicked at the dog. «Alice, are you hurt?»
The girls eyes swam with tears.
«Hehe tried to kill the kitten!»
Margaret hushed her. «Its alright. Youre safe.»
«I cant take it home,» Alice whispered. «They wont let me.»
«Who?»
«Them.»
At school, she dug for answers. The maths teacher, trembling Miss Peabody, muttered about a troubled homedrunk stepfather, neglectful grandmother.
Margaret trailed Alice after school. The girl sat on a bench outside her building, pulling out textbooks. Studying in the cold.
Heart aching, Margaret confronted a haggard woman loitering by the door.
«Excuse meare you Alices mother?»
The woman sneered. «Whats it to you?»
«Im her teacher. Where is she?»
«Inside. Sleeping.» She shoved past.
Margaret called into the darkness. «Alice? Come out. Its alright.»
The girl emerged, trembling.
«Come home with me.»
«Shell beat me.»
«She wont dare.»
«Theyll send me to care if she loses custody.»
«Who is she?»
«My nan. Mums… gone. Four years now.»
Margarets stomach twisted. «Come. Well sort it.»
George gaped when they arrived.
«Whos this?»
«Alice.»
The girl stared at him, wide-eyed.
«You staying the night?» he asked.
«Dunno.»
In the morning, Margaret fed her breakfast.
«Lets go.»
«Where? The childrens home?»
«The shops.»
George watched them, thoughtful.
«Whered you find her?»
«My student.»
At the store, Margaret picked out new clothes. Alice glowed in fresh jumpers, polished shoes.
«What a lovely granddaughter,» the shopkeeper remarked. «Looks just like you.»
Margarets chest warmed.
«Toss those rags,» she said.
Alice clutched them. «Notheyll sell them for drink. Then Ill get hit.»
Margaret exhaled. «What now?»
«Dunno.»
«Café?»
«With you?»
«Unless youd rather not.»
Alice hesitated. «Can you bake cakes?»
Margaret blinked. «Well, I»
«Ill teach you. Mum and I used to.»
They baked, laughed, drank tea. George returned, ruining the moment.
Alice stood. «I should go.»
«Ill walk you.»
George caught her arm. «Whats your name?»
«Alice. I told you, George,» Margaret snapped.
«Did she send you?»
Alice shook her head.
«George, whats going on?»
He swallowed. «Mum… this is my daughter.»
The truth spilled outa fleeting romance with a girl from the estate, a child he never knew existed until he saw Alices face, so like his mothers.
Tests confirmed it. In court, Margaret held Alices hand, daring anyone to take her.
Later, Alice asked, «Dad, can I live with Gran? Shes lonely.»
«And Im not?»
«Youve got Elaine.»
Margaret walked her granddaughter to school, uncaring of gossip. Shed found her joy.
George grew close to Alice, though things with Elaine fizzled. At parents evening, he met Alices teachernow his wife.
«Is it weird having your gran and mum as teachers?» classmates asked.
Alice grinned. «Nah. Its brilliant.»
Sometimes she still visited her nancleaned, cooked, scolded her to quit the bottle.
The woman wept, kissing her hands. «My girl. My own blood.»
And Margaret? She finally had her family whole.
