“Mary, quickly! I just saw your daughter-in-law in the shop. She was buying rat poison. Two packs! Said mice had infested the place. But I knowyou havent got any mice!” Marys legs nearly gave way. So that was her planto clear the house for herself!
“Baron, old friend,” she sighed, stepping into the yard with a bowl of porridge. “Just you and me left in this whole wide world.”
The dog lifted his head, licked her hand gratefully, and dug into his meal. Mary Turner was sixty-five but looked youngerstrong, upright, her silver hair neatly tied back. Only her eyes betrayed the grief she carrieda deep, frozen sorrow that hurt to look at.
Six months ago, James had died in a motorbike accident. Hed bought the “steel horse” for his fortieth birthdayan old dream, hed said. Mary had begged him not to, but what mother could refuse her son? Then, a month later, the hospital called. Hed lost control on a bend.
After the funeral, Natalie had taken little Andrew and gone to stay with her parents in the city. At first, shed called, letting him speak to his grandmother. Then the calls grew fewer.
Mary had tried to insistshe had a legal right to see her grandson. But Natalie always had an excuse: the boy was ill, she was busy. Then she changed her number. Mary went to her old address, but the neighbours said Natalie and her parents had sold the flat and movedno one knew where.
“Oi, Mary! Still alive?” The voice came over the fence. It was Peter Wilkins, the lively seventy-year-old widower next door. He and Marys late husband had been friends, and after he passed, Peter had quietly looked out for her.
“Still here, Peter. Where else would I go?” Mary smiled. “Come in for tea.”
“No time for tea today,” he waved her off. “Off to town for the chemist and groceries. Need anything?”
“Thank you, Im all right.”
“Sure? Youre holed up here like an owl. Not healthy, Mary. Lifes for living.”
Peter left, and Mary went back inside. The hallway walls were lined with photosher whole life, laid bare. Her wedding day. James taking his first steps. Grown-up James with Natalie and little Andrew. Everyone smiling, happy.
She sighed heavily and headed to the kitchen. The day dragged endlessly. She turned on the telly but couldnt focuseverything felt foreign, pointless. She tried knitting, but her hands wouldnt cooperate. In the end, she went to bed early, hoping sleep would bring forgetfulness.
“Mum! Mum!”
Marys eyes snapped open. James stood before heryoung, grinning, in that checkered shirt shed given him for his birthday.
“James!” she sobbed. “My boy!”
“Dont cry, Mum. I came to warn you. Be careful. Evils closevery close. Keep safe.”
“What do you mean? What evil? James!”
But he was already fading into the dawn mist. Mary woke in tears. Outside, the first light of day crept over the horizon, and roosters crowed in the distance. The dream had felt so realas if James had truly visited.
She washed her face in cold water and stepped outside. The morning air was crisp and clear. A mist rose over the river in the distance. So beautiful it made her heart ache.
“Granny Mary! Granny Mary!”
A girl of about nineLucy, the granddaughter of Marys late friendran up to the gate. Lucys parents had died in a car crash two years back, and shed been in the local childrens home since. Mary visited often, bringing treats and helping with homework.
“Lucy, love! What brings you so early?”
“Were going potato picking at the farm. I came to say goodbyewont be back for a week.”
“Wait.” Mary hurried inside and returned with a bag. “Herepasties, apples from the garden, and some sweets. Share with the others.”
“Thank you!” Lucy hugged her tightly. “I love you!”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Be careful out there.”
As Lucy left, Mary watched her go. How many times had she thought of taking the girl in? But a single pensioner wouldnt be granted custody. The authorities wanted a stable family, steady income, medical checks. What family did she have?
The day passed in choresweeding, feeding the chickens, cooking. By evening, she was exhausted and went to bed early. And the dream returned.
This time, James stood by the gate, waving frantically as if stopping someone.
“Dont let her in!” he shouted. “Mum, dont let her in the house! Danger!”
Mary woke to a knock at the door. Half ten at night. Whod come calling so late?
“Whos there?” she called, not opening up.
“Mary Turner, its meNatalie. Please, let me in!”
Her daughter-in-law? Mary opened the door, stunned. Natalie stood on the stepdishevelled, clutching a large bag, clothes rumpled.
“Sorry its so late. Im in troublethe house burned down. Completely. Barely got out.”
“Good Lord! And Andrew? Where is he?”
“With my parents. Theyve taken him to the seaside for a break. Mary, can I stay with you? Just till I sort things out.”
Mary studied her. Natalie had never been warm to her, and after James died, shed avoided her completely. Now here she was, in the dead of night.
“Dont let her in!” Jamess dream warning echoed.
But how could she turn her away? A woman in needher sons widow, no less.
“Come in,” Mary sighed. “Jamess old rooms free.”
For the first few days, Natalie kept to herselfhelped with chores, cooked dinner, even went to the shops. Mary began to wonder if shed been wrong to suspect her. Maybe grief had changed her?
“Its so lovely here, Mary,” Natalie said over supper. “So peaceful. The citys all rushthis is bliss.”
“Plenty of room,” Mary replied. “Stay as long as you need.”
But a week in, Natalies behaviour shifted. She stopped helping, lazed on the sofa all day, demanded special meals.
“Mary, could we move the telly to my room? Its a pain coming to the parlour every time.”
“Take the one from my bedroom. I never watch it.”
“Oh, and have you checked the house deeds? Just in case theres some mistake. I could helpI used to work at a solicitors.”
Mary tensed. Why would Natalie care about the deeds?
“No need. Everythings in order.”
Natalie scowled and left. That night, James came to Mary again.
“Mum, shes up to no good. Be careful. Dont eat or drink anything she makes. Stay safe.”
“James, what do I do? How can I throw her out? Shes Andrews mother.”
“Andrews safe. Youre not. Remember my words.”
Mary woke with a throbbing head. Natalie was already in the kitchen.
“Morning! Made porridge and coffee. Sit down.”
“Thank you, Ill feed the chickens first.”
Outside, Marys mind raced. Was Natalie really plotting something? Then Peter appeared at the fence.
“Morning, Mary! Youve gone quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
“Heard your daughter-in-laws back. How is she?”
“Staying for now. Says her house burned down.”
Peter frowned. “Odd. I was in town the other dayran into Nick Redman, works at that firm Natalie used to. Says she was sacked six months back for theft.”
“And no fire. Shed been living with some blokehe kicked her out. Thats why shes here.”
Mary went cold. The dreams had been warnings. James was right.
“Thanks for telling me, Peter.”
“Be careful with her, Mary. Who knows what shes after.”
The next few days, Mary stayed alert. She cooked her own meals, watched Natalie closely. But Natalie grew bolderrearranged the house, invited friends over.
“Mary, this place is huge. Why not rent rooms? Extra income.”
“I dont need income. I need peace.”
“Peace, peaceyouve got to live! Maybe remarryPeter next door? Widower, widowperfect match.”
Mary said nothing, but the thought struck herNatalie wanted her out. But how?
The answer came unexpectedly. Peter rushed over one morning.
“Mary, quick! I just saw Natalie in the shopbuying rat poison. Two boxes! Said mice had infested your place. But youve got no mice!”
Marys legs buckled. So that was her plan.
“What do I do, Peter?”
“Play dumb
