My son, Philip, got married for the second time just a month ago, and now hes brought Sophiethe lovely thirteen-year-old daughter of his new wifeto meet her new grandmother, me. He left her here for an entire week.
Before she left, Sophies mum, Julia, leaned close to me with a whisper:
“Just so you know, Sophies never been to the countryside before. Shes at that awkward age, and her temperament can be a handful. Please, do be firm with her. Call me if you run into any trouble and Ill come fetch her.”
“What do you mean, if anything happens?” I asked, utterly puzzled.
Julia only smiled, kissed my cheek, climbed into the car, and drove away with Philip.
“Sophie, love, would you nip out and fetch some water for us, please?” I asked, handing her an empty bucket straight away.
“Fetch it from where?” She looked at me with a blank expression.
“From the village pump, just outside the gate, not far from the house. There’s a metal handle; you set the bucket down, pump the handle, fill it up, and bring it back inside,” I explained.
“But whats a village pump?” She asked, bewildered.
“Its just what it sounds likea pump. Theres no magic to it. Youll see it at the end of the lane.”
She stared at me as though Id lost my mind. “Grandma Helen, really? Water comes out of the tap in the kitchen. Dont you have a tap?”
“Yes, we do,” I laughed, “but not a drop has come out in over a week.”
“Why?”
“Because Ste, our resident plumber, cut it off on our street. He said he needed to replace some valve. For now, were all stuck with the pump. Waters always running there.”
She set the bucket down, indignant. “Im not doing it. If theres a tap, it should work!”
“Fine,” I said with a shrug. “You can wash up here then.” I led her over to the big water butt collecting rain beneath the gutter. “Scoop some with your hands to wash your face.”
She wrinkled her nose. “But there are worms in there!”
“Those are mosquito larvae,” I told her matter-of-factly. “They wont hurt you.”
“And what about brushing teeth?” she grimaced. “Do I use this water too?”
“Of course. No running water in the washstand basin either.”
With a heavy sigh, she grudgingly took the bucket and trudged out through the gate toward the water pump.
She returned fifteen minutes later, sweating buckets, with barely three litres in her pail.
“What took you so long?” I queried.
“I couldnt figure out how to work the pump. Thankfully, a gentleman helped and showed me.”
“Brilliant,” I grinned, emptying the water into the washbasin and handing her the bucket again.
“Thatll do for washing. Now we need more water to cook supper.”
“What?!” Her eyes widened in alarm. “You need water for that as well?”
“Of course. But if youd rather, I can fetch rainwater from the butt,” I offered.
“No, no!” she cried, gripping the bucket and dashing off towards the pump again.
She must have made that journey five times, whilst I got started on dinner.
“Gran, why hasnt anyone fixed the tap?” she moaned, exhausted. “Back home, if something breaks, we just ring the council, and its sorted in an hour.”
“Here you have to go in person over to Number 58 on the next street and ask. Trouble is, Stes house still has water, so hes in no rush to help us.”
“Why dont you go and demand he fixes it?”
“Ive been over more times than I care to count,” I waved her off. “Hes always busyout in the fields, at the farm, never in. Promises to come tomorrow, but were still waiting. Hes the only plumber for most of the village.”
She fell silent, thinking, then asked, “Which house did you say?”
“Number 58.”
“Which way is that?”
“That way,” I nodded, indicating the direction. “Why do you ask?”
“Ill go find your Ste right now,” she declared.
Before I could say another word, Sophie slipped out the gate with the determination only teenagers possess. She disappeared down the lane. After half an hour, I started to worry and made my way to the plumbers house myself.
“Has my grand-daughter been here?” I asked Stes wife, Jane, at the door.
“You mean that cheeky thing of yours?” She eyed me askance.
“Why cheeky?”
“She barged in demanding Ste come immediately. Then told me off for him putting his own needs firstmy Ste, who never sits still for a moment. When I threatened her with a broom, she turned around and declared that if Ste didnt fix your tap by the end of today, shed set our shed on fire. Can you imagine?”
“My goodness,” I fumbled for my heart. “Did Sophie actually say that?”
“Your Sophie?” Jane gave a dry chuckle. “Heaven help anyone left in her charge…”
“Where is she now?”
“How should I know? Probably out looking for Ste in the fields. Meanwhile, Im stuck at home being threatened by a teenager.”
Alarmed, I dashed up the lane toward the harvest fields.
I didnt reach thembecause I spotted a tractor rumbling towards me from the distance. Ste was driving, and in the passenger seat sat a very stern-faced Sophie.
Ste pulled up with a screech.
“This yours?” he shouted over the cacophony, pointing at Sophie.
I nodded franticallyand before I could say more, I shouted anxiously, “Where are you taking her, Ste? Surely not to the police? Shes just a child!”
“What, the police?” Ste barked a laugh. “No, Im off to fix your valve! This one hereabsolute terror, threatened to start putting nails in the tyres of every machine out here if I didnt sort your water supply. Tried to throw herself in front of the combine. Not that a nail would do much to a tractor tyre, but honestly, we could use more like her around the village! Life would be turned on its head for the better. Well, then, young rebel…” he turned to Sophie, grinning, “Fancy driving the tractor?”
“Yes!” Sophies face finally split into a beaming smile.
“Right, up you get then. Drive us over, and you can hand me any tools I need for the repairs,” Ste instructed.
“Deal!” she cheered, gripping the steering wheel as though it was a prize.
In the end, Sophie stayed with me in the village for another twenty days, right up till the 30th of August. We barely managed to get her back to the city on time for schoolotherwise, Im certain shed have insisted on staying longer. Theres just endless work to be done in the countryside in the autumn, and somehow, I think shed grown to love it in her own way.
