Tanya slammed the bowl of soup onto the table, scowling. “Granny? Im barely fiftydo I look that old to you?” She shoved the breadbasket toward the centre, lips pursed.
Michael barged in, kicking dirt from his boots. “Granny, put something on the table. Im starving,” he grunted, tossing his cap onto the hook.
She huffed. “Fifty-two isnt ancient, you daft sod. Call me that at home, not in public. Remember yesterday at Tesco? Granny, your wellies are here!bloody mortifying. Everyone laughed.”
Michael slurped his soup, chuckling. “Not at youat old Thompson. Bloke dropped a fiver and nearly wept scraping it off the floor.”
Tanya rolled her eyes. “So you bought him another? Soft-hearted fool. No wonder your wallets always empty.”
As she cleared the table, her voice wavered. “Mick Antons coming. And hes not alone.”
Michaels spoon clattered. “Whys that brat showing his face? Youre dead to me, he said. Left Nadia crying outside the registry office over some tape cassette nonsense. And now he drags God-knows-who here?”
Tanya twisted her apron. “Theyll be here by tonight.”
The door slammed behind him. “Fine. Deal with em yourself.”
She sighed. Nadia had always seemed slytoo quiet, too polite. And when Anton left, shed married his mate quick enough. Smoke didnt rise without fire.
The pie baked as she waited. Mick would cool off. But her chest achedeight years since shed seen her eldest. Her daughter visited weekly, but Anton Her fingers trembled lifting the tray. Would he stay?
At dusk, headlights pierced the window. Mick sneered, “Keep staring, youll wear out the glass.”
“Anton!” Tanya crushed him in a hug. “Look at youspitting image of your dad.” Then she froze. A small girl clutched a backpack, wide-eyed.
“And whos this?” Tanya crouched.
“Im Katie. Whore you?”
Anton dropped his bags. “Mum, meet Katie. My stepdaughter.”
Tanyas smile wobbled. “Call me Gran.”
Michael loomed in the doorway. “Stepdaughter? Whats this Uncle Anton nonsense?”
Anton stood, hand outstretched. “Dad. Im sorryI was young. Didnt know life.”
Michael gripped his shoulder. “Learned now?”
“Enough.” They embraced, eyes glistening.
Later, over whisky, Anton confessed. “Nadia was with Viktor that night. I walked in on them. Left, drank myself broke in Manchester. Got a job as a store guardmet Olga at the till. Some bloke short-changed her, made her cry. I offered to sort him out.” He laughed bitterly. “She said, If I fought every rude customer, wed have no business. Turned out her landlord was evicting her and Katie. I offered my flat. Just pity at first.”
His throat tightened. “Two years ago, cancer took her. I adopted Katie before She still calls me uncle. Olga was in carenever knew her real dad. Hated lies because of it.” He leaned forward. “Ive got work in Liverpool. Can you take Katie? Just till Im steady.”
Tanya and Michael exchanged glances. “Of course. But stay a weeklet her settle.”
Katie thrivedfeeding chickens, shadowing Tanya. She feared Mick till he brought a giant teddy. “Now theres Grandad Mick and Teddy Michael!” she beamed.
When Anton returned months later, she sprinted outside. “Gran! Grandad! Dads home!”
The adults wept. Shed found her family.
