“Hello, does Alex live here?”
“Yeah Whos asking?”
“Are you his mum?”
“Me?! His wife! What dyou want, love?”
“Hes in hospitalno onell tell me how he is. Only family gets updates.” The strangers lip trembled. “Can I come in?”
“Fine. Dont get why youre bothered about my husbands health, thoughwho even are you?” Lucy jabbed a thumb toward the kitchen. “In there.”
The girl perched on the edge of the kitchen bench, fished a hankie from her pocket, and wiped her forehead.
Lucy bustled by the stove, waiting.
“Fancy some water?”
“No Actually, yeah, ta.”
“Gonna explain yourself, or just sit there? Came for a cuppa, did ya?”
“Alex promised to marry me,” the girl said, then added softly, “this autumn.”
“Ooh, *marry* you,” Lucy scrubbed a pan, “thats a twist. Shame bigamys illegal, innit?”
“Im not here for jokes.”
“Neither am Isense of humours packed up years ago.”
“Hes marrying me in autumn. Soon as he divorces you, then”
“Right. So why turn up *now*? Pop back in autumn. Whats your name?”
“Annie Anna.”
“Im Lucy. Annie-Anna, why not summer, eh? Cant even see your feet past that bump. His doing?”
“Yeah. Me and Alex are having a baby. Said hed file for divorce after your birthday.”
“Ah, *now* it clicks. Bloody Alexleopards dont change spots, do they?”
“Whatre you on about?”
“Oh, I sussed you quick. Where you from?”
“A village. Worked at a factory.”
“Come to conquer the big city, then. Bet my Alex cant stand a crying baby. Due soon?”
“Two months.”
“Oof. No wonder hes dodgingwants to spare his nerves. When our first was born, he bunked at his mums. Too knackered for work, he moaned. And his jobs cushycould nap through it.”
“Just tell mehow is he?”
“Why not? Stable but serious. Dont gawphell live.”
“What should I do?”
“How should *I* know? Didnt ask me when you were jumping into bed with him, did ya?”
“Im in my third year at unidistance learning. Got my mum and little brothers at home. Nowhere to go. Alex said youve been like strangers for ages. That hes only staying for the kids.”
“*Did* he?” Lucys patience hung by a thread. “Give me your number and address. Ill call you.”
“Waitwhat?”
“Once hes discharged, you can fetch him.”
“*Fetch* him where?”
“Your mums. Your brothers.”
“Shes got no space.”
“Where you living now, then?”
“A hostel.”
“Off you pop back there. This flats *mine*inherited from my nan. No divorces touching it. What, blinking like a rabbit? Hes got no claim here.”
“Youre being cruel. We love each other.”
“Then shack up in a tent. Now sod off while Im still nice. Remember the door? Good.” Lucy flung the pan into the sinknear scrubbed through it mid-chat.
Three days without sleep or proper food since her “darling” husbands crash. Early prognosis was grim, but Alex pulled through. Exhausted, Lucy barely kept it together while he hovered between worlds. Then the callmoved to a ward, wifes turn to nurse him.
And now this preggers chancer, eyeing her flat. Oh, she *itched* to yank Annies wispy hair and toss her down the stairs. But she was drainedmentally, physically.
Trudging to the hospital, Lucy stewed. Had to go, like it or notto care or curse him. Bet shed “nurse” him upright in seconds. Birthday-ruining git.
Annie loitered by the entrance.
“Auntie Lucy! Auntie Lucy!”
“Persistent, aint ya? Told you everything already.”
“You visiting Alex?”
“What if I am?”
“Take me with you.”
Lucy didnt answer. They walked in silence. On the bus, Annie sat beside her. Lucy turned to the window*whos this stranger?*
At the hospital, Lucy passed Annie off as a niece.
“Wait here. Ill go first.” She marched into the ward.
Alex was aloneno roommates yet. Leg in traction.
His wife entered. He blinked awake under her glare, grinning. But Lucys heart was heavy.
Puppy-dog eyes, scruffy as a stray. Bruised, scraped, leg in plaster.
“Hello, Alex.”
“Lucy! Knew youd come. Missed you.”
“*Missed* me. Course you did.”
From her bag, she unpacked homemade foodhot mash and burgers, his favouriteonto the bedside table. Face flushed, sweating.
“Eat. Before its cold,” she muttered.
“Lucy, why so red? Coming down with summat?”
“Worse. Waited for you through your army years, Alex. Defied my parents to marry you. Remember living on pasta? Our boys, the sleepless nights You forgot *all* of it?”
“How could I? Lucy, not here”
“Not *all*, Alex.” Her throat tightened.
“Luce, whats got into you?”
“Didnt expect this from you. Knife in my back, straight to the heart.”
“Lucy, Im a prat. Wasnt on purpose. Sweardrove careful, like you always say.”
“How *could* you, Alex?” She shook her head.
“Luce, well get another car”
“Ugh, think I care about the *car*?” She chucked oranges onto the table.
“Then what? That I nearly snuffed it? Look rough?”
“Dont fret. Youll heal by autumnwedding-ready.”
“Lucy, what?”
“Annie. Didnt catch her surname.”
“Whos Annie?”
“The one carrying *your* baby.”
“*What* baby? Lucy, you hit your head?”
“*Me*? You found some girl, knocked her up, and *Im* mad?” She finally cracked, sobbing.
“Lucy, lets call a doctormust be stress.” He struggled upright.
“*Stress*? Brought her with me. Your shameless Annie. Plans to move into *my* flat after you dump me post-birthday.”
Alexs hair stood on end. Gobsmacked.
“Cat got your tongue?” Lucy wrenched the door open. “Annie! Get in here!”
The girl waddled in, hand on her back. Spotted Alex. Went pale.
“Wheres *my* Alex?”
“Whos *this*, then?”
“Auntie Lucy, this a joke? This bald bloke aint my Alex.”
“Come again?”
“Mines young and fit. Got a photo.” Annie fumbled with her phone. “Heres us.”
“So wrong Alex?” Lucy grinned.
Seeing Alexs near-heart-attack face and Annies confusion, Lucy howled with laughter. Collapsed onto a spare bed, clutching her sides, tears streaming.
“Wait!” She caught Annie fleeing. “Explain properly.”
Turns out, her Alex gave the wrong address. Two Alexeswho knew?
Lucy called in favours, tracked down the right one. No hospital. Asked a mate to lie about a crashdodging Annie. No divorce plans.
Fates a funny thing. Lucy, soft-hearted, helped Anniefound her a flat, fetched her from the hospital, even hounded the real dad for child support.
Deadbeat dad stays absent but pays up. Knows Lucys got his number. She *remembers* who gave her address out.
Glad she took Annie that day. The girl calls her “Mum Lucy, my guardian angel.”
When Annies boy grew, Lucy set her up with a decent blokesaw her married, danced at the wedding.
So Mum Lucy kept her joy *and* spread it.
