**Diary Entry**
She was a scruffy little thingmessy plaits, a crumpled school uniform with a crooked collar and cuffs. The girl looked ragged, shoulders hunched as if expecting a blow.
Rosemary winced. Why had she even remembered that untidy child? She set aside her beloved éclairwhere was George? Hed promised to come early todayit was the anniversary of Williams passing.
A knock at the door.
“Whos there? George, is that you? Forget your keys?”
“Miss Rosemary, you left your keys on the chair.”
“What? What keys?”
Rosemary opened the door and saw… that same girl. What on earth?
“Sutton? What keys? How did you even know where I live? Have you been following me?”
The girl shook her head. She wore a threadbare hat, a shabby coat with a stain on the pocket, and worn-out shoes falling apart at the seams.
Only now did Rosemary notice her eyesbright blue, framed by thick black lashes.
Shed only recently started teaching at this school after retiring from the college. Couldnt bear sitting idle. Strange girl, this onekept to herself. What was her name? Alice? NoLucy. Lucy Sutton.
“Miss Rosemary, you left your keys on the chair. I called after you, but you didnt hear.”
“Oh, goodness… thank you. Must be old age creeping in,” she joked weakly.
“Youre not old,” Lucy said seriously. “Just in a hurry, I think.”
“Thank you, Lucy.”
“Youre welcome. Goodbye, Miss Rosemary.”
Rosemary shut the door pensively, then suddenly reopened it. The girl was already halfway down the stairs.
“Lucy,” Rosemary called. The girl looked up. “How did you know where I live?”
“I live next door. I see you walking to school sometimes. And… theres that dog near the turnhe growls at me if Im alone. But if I walk close to you, he doesnt. I smell like catsI feed the strays in the basement. I call him Rex. Hes a stray too.”
“And the address… I asked the ladies on the bench. Told them you worked at my school. We take the same bus sometimes.”
Rosemary frowned. Such a peculiar child. Was she stalking her?
“Would you like some tea?” The words slipped out before she could stop herself.
Lucy nodded eagerly. Rude, reallyshe shouldve refused.
As Rosemary poured the tea, something made her ask, “Are you hungry?”
The girl shook her head, but her eyes betrayed her. Why was she even bothering with this?
“How about we eat together? I hate eating alone, and George… well, hes late. Come on.”
She fussed over the meal, watching as Lucy ate neatly but ravenously.
“Thank you,” Lucy murmured, eyeing the leftovers. “I should go. Your cookings really nice.”
Imagine thata child so hungry shed even compliment *my* cooking.
Rosemary packed up the leftovers, adding biscuits and sweets. Lucy hesitated but took them.
Later, Rosemary scolded herself. Unprofessional. Tomorrow, the girl would hug her in front of everyone or blurt out thanks for the food.
George slunk in the next morning, guilty.
“What was yesterday?” she demanded.
“Thursday, Mum. Todays Friday.”
“Dont play dumb, George.”
“Ooh, full name. Serious businessIm thirty, you know.”
“It was your fathers anniversary. He didnt deserve this.”
“Mum… he wouldnt care if we remembered him yesterday or today. Lets do it properly tonight. Im knackeredday off.”
“Meaning you were out all night?”
“You *really* want to know?”
Rosemary arrived at school in a foul mood, half-expecting Lucy to make some gesture. But the girl just walked past with a quiet “Good morning, Miss Rosemary.”
Cheeky little
All day, Rosemary tried cornering her. Was the girl avoiding her?
Days later, walking home, she heard a scream.
Lucy, pinned by a snarling mongrel, clutched a tiny kitten to her chest.
“Get off!” Rosemary shooed the dog away. “Are you hurt?”
The girls eyes were wide with terror. “H-He tried to… t-tear it apart”
“Shh, its alright.” Rosemary hesitated. “Shouldnt you take it home?”
Lucy shook her head. “They wont let me. Ill hide it under the stairs.”
“Whos they?”
A shadow crossed Lucys face.
At school, inquiries revealed little. The maths teacher, old Miss Winthrop, muttered about a “troubled home”mother or grandmother drank, no one was sure.
Later, Rosemary followed Lucy. The girl stopped at a bench, pulling out a textbook. Doing homework outside?
At home, another row with Georgedivorced two years ago, no children, now drifting. “Natasha was perfect for you,” Rosemary snapped.
“Boring, Mum. Found someone more *interesting* now.”
She stormed out for airand heard a slurred shout.
“Lucy! Wheres that wretched girl?”
A dishevelled woman swayed by the flats. Same blue eyes.
“Excuse meare you Lucys…?”
“Piss off.”
“Im her teacher. Where is she?”
“Asleep inside.” The woman stumbled away.
Rosemary called into the dark, “Lucy? Its alright.”
The girl emerged from the shadows.
“Come home with me.”
“Shell punish me later.”
“She wont dare.”
“Theyll take me to care if she loses custody.”
“Who *is* she?”
“My nan. Mums… gone. Four years now.”
“Gone where?”
“Just… gone. Nan gets money for me.”
“Right. Youre coming with me. Well sort this.”
George gaped when they walked in. “Whos this?”
“Lucy.”
The girl stared at him, unblinking. He glanced at his mother. “She staying?”
“Dont know yet.”
Next morning, fed and rested, Lucy tensed as Rosemary said, “Were going out.”
“To care?”
“The shops.”
George, half-dressed, frowned. “Whered you find her?”
“My student.”
At the store, Rosemary picked out clothes, watching Lucy transform.
“Your granddaughters lovely,” the cashier smiled. “Looks just like you.”
Rosemarys chest warmed oddly.
“Were tossing those rags.”
“No!” Lucy clutched her old coat. “Theyll sell them. Or hit me. I shouldnt have come.”
“What do we do, then?”
“Dunno.”
“Café?”
“With you?”
“If youd like. Fancy teaching me to bake a cake?”
“You cant?”
“Not well.”
“Mum and I used to bake. Before she…”
“Lets try.”
They laughed, flour everywhere, until George returned.
Rosemarystartlinglyresented his timing.
“I should go,” Lucy whispered.
“Ill walk you.”
George blocked their path. “Who *are* you?”
“Lucy. I *told* you, George,” Rosemary snapped.
“Did she send you?”
Lucy shook her head. “Shes gone. Four years… Dad.”
Rosemary froze. “Georgewhat is this?”
“Meet my daughter, Mum. Diana Suttonremember her? Next door, two years younger. Her mum drank. We were kids, but… I loved her.”
“And Lucy?”
“Didnt tell me. By then, I was with Natashathe one *you* approved of.”
“When did you find out?”
“When I saw her. Shes your *double*, Mum.”
Tests confirmed it. George fought for custody, his girlfriend Eloise by his side. Rosemary clung to Lucys hand in court, terrified theyd take her.
Later:
“Dad, can I live with Gran?”
“What if she says no?”
“She wont. Shes lonely.”
“And Im not?”
“Youve got Eloise.”
Rosemary walked hand-in-hand with her granddaughter, uncaring of gossip. Shed found her joy.
George grew close to Lucythough he and Eloise parted ways.
“Not because of me?” Lucy asked.
“Course not. Im not losing you again.”
At parents evening, George met Lucys teacher. Now, Lucy walks to school with both grandmother *and* mother.
“Hard having teachers as family?” friends ask.
“Nah. Its brilliant,” Lucy grins.
Sometimes, she visits her other grandmothercleaning, cooking, scolding her to quit drinking. The woman weeps, kissing Lucys hands.
“My girl,” she sobs. “Ill stop, I swear.”
**Lesson learned:** Family isnt always blood. Sometimes, its the ragged girl with your eyes who teaches you how to live again.
