Life carried on at its usual paceraising her son, building a home, standing by the man she loved. Tammy had chosen Michael herselfof all the lads in the village, he alone had truly won her heart. When Mike returned from his army service, they married. Soon after, their son, Archie, was born. As the boy grew, Tammy began to dream of a daughter.
“See, Michael, once we finish the house, well have a little girl,” she often said. “Then well have our homea proper family idyll.”
Michael would just smile and nod. Truth be told, he wouldnt have minded becoming a father again tomorrow. Often, with Archie perched on his shoulders, hed stride proudly through the village, greeting every neighbour they passed.
Then winter came. Snow piled high, drifts blocking the roads. Tammy waited by the window, watching for her husbands return. But Michael never made it home. A tragic accident at work took him from her.
“Time heals,” the neighbours and well-wishers told Tammy. “Youre not the first to go through this. Cry it out, love, and who knowsyears from now, you might find someone else.”
Tammy listened in silence, but no tears cameand that somehow made it worse. A year slipped by. The uneasy nineties squeezed even the strongest families. Wages in the village went unpaid for months. Only those with their own livestock and a willingness to work hard managed to scrape by.
Tammy felt the full weight of those times. Archie started schoolhe needed clothes, shoes, food. That meant planting every inch of the garden to have something to sell at the market come autumn.
She worked the plot till dark, her hands roughened, her smile gone, her spirit turned brittle.
“Fetch that bucket, you little rascal!” shed snap when Archie tried to sneak off to his mates. “Think you can just run off? Have you done your homework?”
Archie would silently grab the bucket, but in his mind, he remembered when life had been goodwhen his dad was still here, and Mum had been happy and kind.
At night, Tammy wept, cursing herself for lashing out at the boy. But come morning, she was stern and gloomy again.
One Saturday, her friendsFaye and Lucydropped by. Once, Tammy hadnt needed friendsMichael had filled every need for company. But now, these two lively divorcees often popped in, laughing, claiming theyd come “for tea.” Though tea, of course, wasnt the real reason.
The morning started as usual. Tammy rose without even glancing in the mirror. She knew her face looked worn. She fed the pig, scattered grain for the chickens, piled the dirty dishes in the sink, and ordered Archie to wash up and hurry to school.
That evening, she wasnt expecting anyone, but she knew one of her “regular” visitors might drop by. She was indifferent to their promisesif they came, fine; if not, they wouldnt get another invitation. Men usually caught on quick. Theyd see the boy, mutter a few words, then leave, muttering about “baggage.”
“Honestly, Tam, youll run them all off at this rate,” Faye laughed. “Too hard to please. Or maybe its your bed? Fancy a new sofa?”
“Oh, right, Ill just dash out and buy one,” Tammy sighed. “With what money? If you feel sorry for me, take it yourself.”
“Alright, dont bite my head off. Lets set the tablecompanys here.”
Faye could be a nuisance, but Tammy still silently placed pickled cucumbers on the table. Glancing at the wedding photo, she sighed heavily.
“Forgive me, Mike. Its hard without you.”
“Theyre all the same,” Faye said, as if reading her thoughts. “Come on, Tam, heres to us! Were the best!”
The next morning, Tammy cleared the remains of the gathering and went to work.
Nina Yegorovna, her late husbands aunt, paid a visit.
“Whats become of you, Tam?” she said. “Youre not the same since Michael. And these friends of yourstheyre no help.”
“What, Nina Yegorovna, come to lecture me? Think Im some kind of failure? Ive got a home, I keep the place running, my sons in school, I check his homework” Tammy suddenly trailed off, remembering she hadnt looked at Archies books or diary in over a week. And just the other day, his teacher had asked to meet.
Not knowing what to say, Tammy started stacking dirty dishes in the basin.
“You used to be different,” Nina pressed. “Lovely, hard-working, kind. Drop this foolishness.”
“Im not being foolish,” Tammy retorted. “I just need a break sometimes, a chat with friends. Dont I have a right to unwind after work?”
“Of course you do,” Nina conceded with a sigh.
“Then dont preach. And frankly, keep your nose out of my business. Doors open.” Tammy turned back to the kitchen table.
Nina tightened her scarf and quietly left.
Tammy exhaled sharply, wincing as if in pain. She felt wretched, heavy, and something pulled at her to follow. She hurried out, catching Nina on the porch.
“Nina Yegorovna, waitIve got carrots for you. Had a good harvest this year.”
“No need, child,” Nina waved, already stepping off the porch.
“Please, I mean it,” Tammy insisted.
Nina knew life too well. Her years had taught her to sense pain in others. She understood this was Tammys silent apologythough no words were spoken, her voice and eyes begged forgiveness. Nina stopped.
“Heres a bag,” Tammy said, generously filling it with carrots. “Can you manage or should I help?”
“I can manage, Tam,” Nina replied softly, then walked on, her heart aching for the womans troubled soul.
By Friday evening, Tammy had packed onions and carrots for the market.
“At least therell be a bit of cash,” she thought, hefting the bags. “Havent seen a penny of my own in ages.”
“Where you off to with all that?” nosy neighbour Zoe asked, peering into the sacks.
“Market. Selling veg,” Tammy replied.
She barely made it to the bus stop with the heavy load. Old Mac and Granny Gladys were already there, waiting for the same bus. But it never came.
“Another breakdown,” Gladys sighed.
Mac cursed the bus and the entire transport service before giving up and heading home, deciding to try another day.
Tammy stayed. She couldnt face dragging the bags back, so she waited for a lift.
First a Morris Minor passed, then a Land Rover, both full. Finally, a Ford pulled up. Tammy squinted, trying to see if there was space, but the driver stopped before she even raised her hand.
A man, slightly older than her, unfamiliar. Probably from the next town over. He glanced at her, then at her bags.
“No bus todaybroke down. Im heading into town. Need a lift?”
“Suppose so,” Tammy sighed.
“Done,” he smiled. Despite his wiry frame, he lifted the heavy sack as if it weighed nothing.
“Could you drop me right at the market?” she asked.
“Might do.”
“Ill pay,” she said.
During the drive, Tammy touched up her lips with a compact mirror. The backseat let her study the driver.
“Im Tammy,” she finally broke the silence.
“George Frederick.”
“Bit young for a middle name, arent you? Boss or something?”
“Oh aye, director of factories and owner of steamships,” he joked. “Actually, foreman on a building site.”
George dropped her at the market and even helped carry the bags. He only took half the fare.
“Pay the rest tonight. Ill be back the same way,” he said.
“Generous, arent you?” Tammy smiled. “Lucky me.”
That evening, George drove her home.
“Come in for tea, George Frederick.”
“Just Georgell do,” he quipped.
Tammy quickly set the table. Archie peeked in.
“Stop lurking! Go to your room. Homework done?”
“Nearly,” the boy mumbled.
“Well, finish it!” she ordered.
George, sitting by the stove, crossed his legs and smiled at the boy.
“Lets get acquainted. Im George Frederick. And you?”
“Archie.”
“Proper name Archibald?”
“Aye.”
“Hows the schoolwork? Tough?”
“Maths a nightmare,” Archie admitted.
“Right, lets have a look.” George gestured for his exercise book.
Half an hour later, Archie went to bed, pleased with the help.
“Clear this up,” George said calmly, pointing at the table. “Just tea for me.”
“Well, if youre driving, tea it is,” Tammy agreed.
“Even if I werentjust tea. Or squash, cordial, juicethats it.”
Tammy eyed him suspiciously but silently poured hot water into a glass, added tea leaves, and set out a plate of potatoes.
“Time I was off,” George said, standing. He hesitated, then added, “Ive taken a liking to you, Tammy. Can I stop by Friday?”
Tammy almost smiledshed expected this.
“Suppose so.”
“Im not married,” he added, though she hadnt asked.
“Youll forget by next week,” she thought, doubting hed follow through.
Yet when Faye and Lucy dropped by after work, Tammy sent them off early. Her mind raced: “What if he really comes?”
“Not fair, Tam,” Faye protested. “Come to the club with us!”
“Am I some daft girl, running off to clubs?”
“Who said daft? Were off to the pictures!”
“No, you go. Ive tidying to do.”
She never got to it. George arrived earlier than expected. He stepped into the yard, and Tammy led him inside. Traces of the evenings gathering still littered the table, but he pretended not to notice.
“Ill heat the soupgone cold,” she explained.
George chatted with Archie, helped with maths, explained horsepower. When the boy went to bed, Tammy was merry, eager to talk and joke.
George stood, placed his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her up. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist. Tammy gasped, breath catching.
“Staying till morning,” he said simply.
“Whos rushing you?” Tammy stepped back, finally steadying herself. The words were unnecessaryshed known hed stay.
At breakfast, while Tammy fried eggs, George took buckets to fetch water.
“Need any for the bath?” he asked.
“Fetch some,” she said, though she never usually asked for helpshed stopped believing in kindness that lasted.
Over tea, George said quietly, “Tammy, if you want this to work, those drinks on your table last nightthey cant be here.”
She froze, spoon in hand.
“That a condition?” she asked, more surprised than angry.
“Call it that. Cant stand the smell. And anyway, you know Im decent.”
He smiled. “So, shall I come back tonight for the bath?”
Tammy wanted to protest, to scold him, even throw him outbut something stopped her. Unexpectedly, she wanted to agree.
“Come, then,” she said shortly.
Faye dropped by before evening.
“Heard you poured it all out, Tam. True?”
“True, Faye. Nothing left.”
“Mad, are you? That was good stuff!”
“Good? More like trouble. Off with younot in the mood.”
Tammy mopped the floor, changed the sheetsnow fresh from washingand reheated soup. But she wanted something nicer, so she whipped up pancakes instead. Archie sneaked them from the table, washing them down with squash.
Time passed. Tammy even managed a bath, but by nightfall, George hadnt shown.
“Three years for a promise,” she sighed bitterly. “Foolish to believe. All the same, except my Mike. Maybe I poured it out for nothing?”
She smiled at the thought. The bright kitchen smelled of fresh food, and suddenly, she felt calm.
“No, not for nothing,” she said firmly. “Enoughs enough.”
Turning to Archie: “Dont wait up, love. Uncle George isnt coming. Lets check your homeworkyouve slacked off.”
Thenengine sounds. George appeared in the doorway with a small bag, pulling out sausages, tinned goods, biscuits, butter.
“Mate at the depot sorted me. Thought you and Archie could use it.”
Tammy sat at the table, chin in hand, watching him.
“Cant get that round here anymore.”
“Know. Thats why I brought it.”
Casually, as if hed just come home from work, she asked, “Eating first or off to the bath?”
“Bath first,” he said.
Outside, it was dark. Setting the table, Tammy felt something long forgottenthe warmth of home, the comfort shed once had with her husband. Smiling, she glanced at Georges jacket hanging by the door.
“He came todaymeans hell stay. I want him to stay,” she thought with unusual certainty.
The autumn day was grey but peaceful.
Nina Yegorovna sat by her gate, watching the road. She smiled when she saw the carnow a regular sight at Tammys for two months straight.
“Well, good. Let them be. Young stillmight even have a child.” She sighed softly. “Tammys like her old self againsmiling, gentle. Let her find joy. Life always moves forward. The main thing is to live.”
