A Little Mistake
– Oh, come off it! No way!
I jerked the steering wheel on reflex, nearly reversing straight into the car parked next to my pride and joy. That big, black Range Rover driving past was one I recognised instantly. Of course Id know my neighbours carafter all, every morning Id send my boys off to school in it.
But next to Simonwhom Id known for yearssat a woman I didnt recognise at all. No wedding ring, lips pouted like a duck, and a trendy new hat. Even if I couldnt see everything, I could see enough.
– Typical! The nerve! I muttered, pulling out after Simons car and, after a moments thought, decided this sordid business shouldnt be left alone.
I slipped in behind a foreign hatchback and kept a reasonable distance, exactly as Id read in my favourite crime novels. Simons car was impossible to losehow could you miss a beast that size?
Actually, Simon himself called that car a beast. Hed inherited it from his father and couldnt even imagine getting rid of ita family legacy and all that.
Simon had lost his father more than two years ago, but still hadnt recovered. Theyd been tight, just the two of them, ever since Simons mother died when he was tiny. He was barely two years old when she collapsed suddenly at the stove while making his favourite porridge. She never responded to his sobs.
The little lad cried for what felt like forever, until his father rushed home after failing to get through on the phone. He scooped up Simon, rang 999, but it was already too late.
It was a blow. Simons dad, a former amateur boxer, knew all too well what it was like to get the wind knocked out of youa feeling that never really leaves. His world had left with the woman whod loved him heart and soul. Simons mother had never ailed in her life.
Simons grandparents lived far away, meaning hed barely see them if moved. Neither was willing to come up and help raise him, and when his late wifes aunt pressed to take Simon, his father refused.
Youre a bloke! You need to work, get on with your life. Whatll you do with a toddler on your own? He needs eyes on him every second! How are you going to manage?
I dont know yet, Simons dad replied honestly. But hes my son. Hes lost his mumthats enough. I wont give him away.
After all, Simons dad was a practical man, not one to build castles in the air.
So, quite soon, a solution appeared. Their neighbour, Mrs. Mary Grace, recently retired, agreed to watch Simon while his dad worked. Later, Simon started nursery and life settled. Every minute outside work, his father devoted to Simon, and he never brought another woman into the house. Not once.
Mary Grace, who had no children or husband for reasons only she knew, loved Simon as her own, and he returned the affection.
You my granny?
No, Simon. You know your grandmothers names. Im your nanny.
Nanny? Is that like a granny?
Almost.
You love me?
Very much. Youre my favourite boy.
Good! Stay my granny anyway, okay?
Who could refuse a child? Mary Grace asked Simons father for permission, turned down any pay, and allowed Simon to call her granny. Suddenly, Simon had a third grandmother, which puzzled his nursery teachers at first.
Why so many cards, Simon? they queried when he made three for Mothers Day. But when they understood, they stopped asking.
The single teachers, according to temperament, sighed quietly (or not) over Simons father, but he never considered changing his life. He had a mission. Raising Simon demanded every ounce of energy, but he managed splendidly.
Simon finished school, picked a university after consulting his father, and complained to Mary Grace,
Why dont girls like me, Granny?
Is that true? And who was that kissing you by my window the other day? she teased.
She dumped me. Said something was missing in our relationship. What, though? Anything wrong with me, Granny?
Theres nothing wrong. Youre clever, good-looking, and sensitive. You just havent met your girl yet. Wait. Shes around somewhere, closer than you think.
Mary Grace was right.
A shy classmate, Lucy, helped Simon with coursework; she never demanded attention, just quietly pined. He, used to bold girls like the ex, didnt even notice. In the end, Mary Grace sorted it.
Lucy came by at Simons request to drop off notes. Awkwardly, she stood in the hall, but Mary Grace had worked it out.
Hes single, Lucy. Quite free as far as I know.
Seeing Lucys beaming face, Mary Grace gently patted her shoulder.
You love him, dont you?
She didnt need an answer. Lucys eyes said it all. And when Simon came by to pick up his notes, Mary Grace, exercising her grandmotherly rights, gave him a little clip round the ear.
Whats that for, Gran?
Dont mess Lucy about!
What? Who?
Lucy! Oh Simon, happiness is staring you in the face.
The wedding was quiet, in keeping with Lucys wishes, though Simons dad wanted something grand.
Dad, Lucy isnt comfortable with a big do. You know her mum doesnt have much. I dont want to make her feel awkward.
At first, Simons dad was cautious about his future in-law. His own experience had been roughhis own mother-in-law had blamed him for his wifes early death. Simon only gradually grew close to that side of the family. He spent part of every summer holiday at his grans, but always counted the minutes until his dad brought him home. There, Simon realised: sometimes, memories taste bitter.
I never got to tell your mum enough, Simon. How much I loved her, how precious she was. I was always busy Its too late now. I should have helped more, been present. Now what? When your only child is gone, you stop living. You simply exist
Simon never really knew his mother except through his fathers stories and photographs. Once, choosing perfume for Mary Grace, hed followed a stranger in a department store, drawn by a familiar scent. The sales assistant, watching this odd behaviour, merely asked which fragrance it was, and brought over a bottle.
Does this smell like what you remember?
Simon bought it, returning home puzzled. His father explained:
Your mothers favourite. Whered you find it?
From then on, that bottle stood in Simons rooma thread connecting him to his mother.
Simons dads worries about his new daughter-in-law were unnecessary. Lucys mum was simple and kind, and after a while saw how happy her daughter was. In the end, Simon fulfilled all her hopes.
So, they liveda small, close-knit family. The parents quietly dreamt of grandchildren; Simon and Lucy began visiting doctors. Year after year, nothing happened. The dream of a child became an obsessionuntil Mary Grace invited Simon round:
Simon, whats wrong?
Its all wrong, Gran. Everything. Were both healthy, apparently, but nothing works out. Lucys getting desperate. What do I do?
Calm down! Goodness, youre impatient. Maybe its just not your time yet. Did you marry Lucy just for a child, then?
Gran!
Well? You love heraccept her as she is. The problem might be yours, you know.
Doctors say theres nothing up.
Then wait. Relax, go on holiday, and wait. Dont pressure yourselves. Your time will come. If a man cant supply patience for himself and his whole family, what use is he as head and protector? All this complaining! Lucy wants a baby as badly as you do, but now she feels its her fault, that shes failing you.
How do you know?
Oh, its hardly a secret, love. I felt the same, once. I loved someone, but no children ever came. Back then there were no options, and the doctor just said it wasnt to be. And I believed it. Young and naïve He didnt want to marry unless I was pregnant. He didnt really love me. I only worked that out years later. And now I think its for the best
Why?
Because a child needs happiness, and he and I would never have given them that. But you and Lucy, youve got love. Wait. Dont lose everything else hoping for more. The rest will follow.
Simon listened to Mary Grace. He pulled himself together, comforted Lucythough it wasnt easy. His father supported him, Lucys mum was nothing but kind, and Mary Graces refrain became his mantra:
Wait, Simon. Treasure each other.
And things happened just as they stopped hoping. Nearly ten years married and silence Another check-up, another holiday, Lucy constantly tired and queasy. Simon, pacing at the private clinic, was in disbelief at the doctors words:
A baby? Really?
Eventually he understood. Lucy switched between laughing and crying, pointing at the scan.
There he is, Simon! So tiny but ours.
Their firstborn was a whopperover nine pounds. Petite Lucy coped valiantly, and as soon as her baby cried out, she declared:
Ill be back for the next one! Youd better be ready.
Lucy had their daughter, then another son, at the same hospital, with the same doctors. As if to make up for lost time, nature was more generous than theyd dared hope. Each subsequent baby arrived on schedule, exactly as planned.
As the family swelled in numbers, Simons dads flat became cramped.
Simon, you need a house! Simons dad declared, hugging his grandchildren. Well build one!
They found a plot quickly, but construction was slowone recession after another hit the business. Simon and his dad fought to keep the company afloat and protect their staff, so the house was put on hold.
Mary Grace stepped in again:
Simon, your dads flat is a two-bed, mines a spacious three-bed. Theres more room, and Im finding it hard going now. Move in with Lucy and the kids. The place is all sorted, thanks to youenough to last me ten years. Your dad and I dont need much space. He benefits tooIll cook, tidy up, keep an eye on him. I dont like being by myself these days. Its nothing, butwell, you never know. Think about it!
So, we moved. Lucy looked after the kids, the home, and our relatives, while I worked day and night to save the company. That I managed. My dad, though, didnt make it through. He kept his illness secret, not wanting to burden me. When he knew the end was near, he sat me down:
Im leaving my flat to Mary Graceitll end up yours anyway. But ever since she signed hers over to you and Lucy, I havent felt easy. Lifes unpredictable, Simon. I want to leave things right. Shes done more for us than anyone. That womanshes not even family, but I cant imagine life without her now. Shes more than a grannyyou know she raised you like a mother.
Dad, I get it. Youre right. But whats with all the speeches?
I just want to leave everything tidy
He never met his fourth grandchildLucy gave birth to baby Alex a month after the beloved George passed away. Young Alex, named after his grandfather, grew up hearing so much about him that he marched around, nose in the air, every time anyone called him by his full name.
Life skipped from bump to bump, sometimes blissful, sometimes hard. The children grew, showering Lucy and me in so much love that it felt like there was enough to warm the North Pole and still have plenty left over.
Lucy, a naturally sociable sort, always chose her friends carefully. Birthdays and the playground broadened her circle, and amongst the mums she befriended, Beatrice became her closest confidante.
Bea was Lucys age, loved books and the theatre as much as she did, but rarely had the time for either. She had twins who kept herand both grandmotherson their toes. Lucy, for Bea, was a godsend. Their chats taught Bea how brief and precious motherhood isthe first steps, the adorable sticky hugs, the proud shouts after a goal. With Lucys help, Bea learned to appreciate the moments, to worry less, and gained a friend in whom she could confide, knowing those secrets would go no further. Lucy was a vault, and Bea had her share of secrets.
Things werent easy with Beas husband. He was dashing, charming, and although he supposedly valued their family, he had a wandering eye. Bea knew, and comforted herself that all men are the same. That thought helped her cope, believing her boys needed their dad.
So, when she saw Simon with an unfamiliar woman, Bea was convinced something was up, and that Lucy deserved to know.
Simons car turned down a side street, and Bea had to manoeuvre carefully not to lose him. The modest restaurant where Simon parked was familiartheyd eaten there often. The place was known for its food and for its live jazz band at the weekends.
Simon opened the door for his companion, and they disappeared inside, leaving Bea stewing over whether to wait or run straight to Lucy with the news.
The more Bea thought, the more her righteous indignation fizzled out.
She could tell Lucy that Simon was having an affair, but what then? Four kids, Mary Grace becoming more frail, Lucys mum struggling with her eyesight and Simons had even twice taken her to London for treatment. Too many dependents, too little fact. Who was this woman? Did it mean anything? What if it was just a passing fancy, like her own husbands loves? Here today, gone tomorrowand the family left in ruins. A single revelation could destroy so many lives.
Bea slammed her fist on the wheel, starting at the blaring hornher husband had installed it for her babywhich scared off a flock of pigeons outside the restaurant.
The jarring noise snapped Bea back to herself. Sure, Simon was a rogue, but arent most men? Why should Lucy lose everything for that?
Clearing the car park, Bea drove home, grumbling at passers-by and brushing away tears as she went.
No. She wouldn’t tell Lucy. Let them sort it out themselves. Maybe that made her a poor friend, but if someone had told her, Bea could never have forgiven her husband. Rumours are one thing, proof another. Its one thing to suspect, another to know youre no longer loved. Suddenly youre nobody, replaced by someone new for all those words that were once yours And yet, words make up happinesslose them and your path veers off course, gone forever.
At her apartment block, Bea sat in the car for ages, gaining the strength to go inside where her kids waitedalong with the nanny, who shouldve gone home an hour ago.
A call from Simon caught her off guard.
Yes? When? All right, Simon, well be there. Thanks for the invitation!
Hanging up, Bea patted her cheeks with cool palms.
What just happened? Shed just seen Simon with another woman, then this calland now he was inviting them to a party for his and Lucys wedding anniversary, their big milestone. Bea already had a present set aside, but the invitation was out of character; Simon and Lucy usually celebrated alone, away from everyone.
Still, Bea agreed, as any proper friend would. So, she bought a dress, shoes, did her hair and nails. Her husband, openly admiring, grinned:
Why so glum? Well have our own anniversary soon! Ill treat you to a night you wont forget!
She turned away, fishing her lipstick from her make-up bag.
Yeah, right. Some party…
Simon outdid himself. The hall was tastefully decked outfresh flowers, loads of candles, porcelain, spotless linen. Lucy gasped at every new detail.
Simon! Blue and silvermy favourite! It looks stunningthank you! Lucy exclaimed, taking Beas bouquet and present, then whisking her off. Come on, lets powder our noses.
The new ring flashing on Lucys finger made Bea wince a little. Was Simon buying forgiveness? That ring cant have been cheap…
The ladies room was down in the basement, and Bea paused on the steps, gathering her skirt.
Need a hand?
The young woman coming up made Bea gasp.
You!
Sorry, do I know you? The woman frowned, puzzled.
Today she looked nothing like before: sharp suit, sensible shoes, chic hair.
What are you doing here? Bea hissed, letting go of her train.
Please dont let Lucy hear usher night shouldnt be ruined!
Me? I work here.
The woman suddenly smiled, genuinely.
You work here?
Yes, Im the events organiser for tonight. Simon put my little firm in chargeour first big job, so go easy if its not perfect! Do you like the decorations?
Beas fingers tightened around her skirt.
Yes Yes, its all beautiful.
Im so glad! Simon was anxious about getting every detail right. I even roped in my husbandhe was here last night arranging flowers and hanging garlands. Im not supposed to use ladders now.
Why not? Bea asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
Im pregnantjust found out. Terrified, to be honest! Do you have children?
Yes, two.
Is it hard?
Very For the first time in a week, Bea felt warmth running through her fingers and muscles relax. Dont fret. Youll be grand. Being plucky is the best trait for a mum. If you need a good doctor, let me knowLucy had all hers with him.
How many does she have?
Four!
Crikey! So much happiness at once!
Thats right!
Oh, excuse me! the woman said as she heard a noise downstairs. Theyre starting. Are you coming?
Ill just be a minute
Bea climbed the steps, pushed into the ladies, and beamed openly at Lucy.
Lucy! Whats taking you so long? Theyre already marrying you off again in there! Whoops I mean, giving you away! Come on! Theyre all waiting!
All evening, raising glasses to their friends, Bea thought about how easy it is to destroy what you have. One word, a wrong assumption, a silly twist of fate, and it all crashes down. Her silly mistake could have ruined that night, the happy faces of Mary Graceyelling Kiss! Kiss! louder than everyone elseand the giggling chorus of Simon and Lucys children reciting their congratulatory rhyme
A little mistake, Bea whispered, draining her champagne and turning to her husband. Oursbitter or sweet?
Still bitter, Beastill bitter!Bea smiled quietly, her hand slipping into his, and in his familiar, weathered palm she felt both the ache and the comfort of years sharedmistakes made, forgiven, lived with. On the dance floor, Simon pulled Lucy closer as the music slowed, their faces soft with laughter. Around them, children darted, Mary Grace waved her napkin like a flag of triumph, and Bea caught, for a fleeting instant, the shimmer of everything that could have gone wrongyet hadn’t.
The night hummed with gentle joy. As champagne bottles emptied and confetti tumbled, Bea leaned into her husbands shoulder. Maybe stories werent meant to be perfect. Maybe, she thought, were all stitched together with a thousand errors and a stubborn hope that love can hold.
She looked again at Lucyglowing, radiant, secure in arms that never let goand felt old pain loosen inside her. Tomorrow, thered be tantrums and homework, wrinkled laundry, fractious twins. But tonight, under candlelight and laughter, she let go of bitterness and let sweetness, at last, settle gentle on her tongue.
The mistakes, Bea realized, werent what defined them. Stayingtogether, broken and mendedwas the real miracle. The little misunderstandings, the near catastrophes, trembled on the edge and fell away, leaving only the warmth of holding on. Lives, stitched and tangled, shining in spite of themselves.
As the last note faded, the children cheered, old friends kissed cheeks, and outside, the night rippled with quiet gratitude. The kind of gratitude you feel when, after so many tiny stumbles, you look aroundand find, somehow, youre still exactly where you belong.
