Peter grew up in a large family. His father, fond of the drink, bounced from job to job, while his mother exhaustingly managed the post office and kept the household running, doing all she could to feed their three children.
Peter was the eldest, so he helped his motherwatched over his younger sisters, fetched water and coal, tended to odd chores. When the girls were old enough, they pitched in around the house too. By then, though, their father was already gonehed poisoned himself with some foul booze hed drunk in the company of his mates.
Things didnt grow easier for the family.
Peters mother would often sigh, lamenting over her wayward husband:
He was a drunk, yesbut he was gentle, never caused a scene. And at least he brought home what little money he could Oh, foolish Williamwhat were you thinking, leaving us to fend for ourselves?
Often, Peter would finish his tasks quickly to avoid his mothers laments and slip out of the house. Hed make his way to the group of local boys gathering at a deserted old cottage on the edge of their Somerset village.
No one had lived in that cottage for yearsthe broad, sturdy steps served as benches for the children. Like a row of sparrows, theyd settle in, munching on roasted chestnuts and swapping storiessome real, others spun from pure fancy.
Peter never had coins for chestnuts, and his mother would never buy such thingsshe saved every farthing she could. But his friend and neighbour, Alice, would always share hers. Shed do it quietly, secretively even, slipping a handful into his pocket or palm when no one was looking, never making a fuss about it.
Peter would whisper Thank you and tuck in, enjoying the treat as much as any of the others. He couldnt help but think Alice always sat beside him just for the chance to share. At first, hed been embarrassed, but after a while he got used to it, and would settle beside her willingly, comforted by her kindness.
Still, Peters conscience wouldnt let him take things freely. Instead, he began coming to help Alice in the afternoons when she was working in her garden.
All out at work? hed ask.
Yes, of course. Theyre always out at this hour, shed reply.
Hed drop to her side among the rows and weed as quickly as she did, chatting with her as they worked. Alice enjoyed his company and never turned down his helpin fact, it made the work pass more cheerfully. Once they were done, shed bring out a steaming pot of tea and a plate of cakes or biscuits to the garden. Peter would always protest politely, but she would insisthe never left without sweets and tea.
Such treats were rare at Peters house; only at Christmas or Easter did they see sweets. Deep inside, he was truly grateful for Alices generosity.
Peter tried hard at his lessons, wanting not to fall behindbut school came harder to him than most. He shone only in sport, excelling in every contest. It was no surprise that after school, he went off to train as a PE teacher. Alice, on the other hand, began to study nursing.
As adults, the two saw each other less often, mostly at holidays when they returned to the village. Peter, once a scrawny boy, grew into a strapping young man, while Alice kept her delicate frame, blue eyes, and gentle smile.
She married quickly, after tragedy struck and her parents died in a road accident. She longed for comfort and tried to fill the emptiness with a family of her own.
When Peter heard Alice had married John, a boisterous, talkative chap from their village, he was taken aback. Hed never thought they suited. Still, they seemed happy enough, and their son was born within the year.
Peter wasnt in a hurry to sort out his own life. To his mother’s surprise, he proved himself a capable organiser at the city sports academy, and soon was made director of a sports centre in Bristol.
His sisters had moved off and started families of their own. But Alices marriage was falling apart.
Thats the state of things for Alice, Peters mother confided, shaking her head. Her Johns no better than your father. Drinks all day, never at home… Neither his wife nor child matter to him. It pains me. I do know how she feels, I truly do.
Peters fist slammed against the table:
The scoundrel! Why did she marry him? Shed had better prospects before. Now, its just more heartache. I remember what Dad was like Nothing but misery.
Worse, now Johns selling off everything in the house for drink. The tape player, his clothes, the crystal her parents left hereven the towels. Appalling that someone will buy it all, knowing full well where the moneys spent. But they still do…
Does Alice come to you for help? Peter asked bluntly.
No, she never asksbut moneys tight, very tight. She earns so little, and he gives nothing. Its dreadful.
Peter paced, deep in thought. His mother realised shed perhaps said too much and hurried, But dont go meddling in their affairs, Petey. Leave it be. Not our business. Anothers family is a locked room. If she stays with him, she must love him still.
Then Peter sat across from his mother, telling her about how Alice had fed him chestnuts and cakes, shared her biscuits and tea all those years ago, how he couldn’t rest knowing his childhood friend struggled so now, especially with a young child to care for.
What are you planning, Peter? his mother asked, worried. Dont go confronting that layabout. Only the grave might change a man like him, and youll land in gaol. If you want to help, do it with kindness.
Peter nodded, departed for the city, but returned a few days later with his car loaded with two sacks, several crates and boxes of food, and bags stuffed with clothes.
Whats all this, Peter? Are you moving in with me, dear? What a joy that would be, to have one of my children near again…
No, Mum. My life is in Bristol. Ive got a place there. This is just food for you… Have a look for yourself. Dont be surprised by the sacks of chestnutsAlice will understand. Its easier for you to take these over than for me to do it. Id feel odd giving them myself. Distribute as you wish. Help her as you see fit.
What about your sisters, Peter? Dont they need help too?
You know I send them money for every holiday. Neither lacks for anything, both married to good men, thank the Lord.
Yes, thank the Lord, echoed his mother.
I must be off now. Please, dont be sparing; bring Alice what she needs, bit by bit, so no one notices too much. When you run low, Ill bring more. Ill see to it youre well stocked. Goodbye, now.
Peter hugged and kissed his mother before leaving, and she hurried to the larder. In the sacks were the finest roasted chestnuts shed seen in years.
Oh, what a treat well have! she exclaimed, delighted as a child.
The boxes held tins of condensed milk, stewed beef, bags of oats, flour, pasta. One bag contained an assortment of sweets, which she tucked away in the pantry, marvelling at her sons generosity.
Hed always brought her gifts from the city before: sweets in boxes, fresh seafood she so loved. But this time, the bounty was especially rich.
Oh, my dear Peter, what a heart you have. But where has your own happiness wandered off to?
Peters mother followed his wishes. Each week, she dropped by Alices in the evening with a parcel hidden in her coat.
At first, Alice refused to take the food. But when her mother handed her a whole bucket of chestnuts, Alice realised who was behind these quiet gifts. She began to cry, running her hands through the smooth, glossy nuts. Then she told Peters mother,
Please, thank Peter for me. I cant believe itafter all these years, he remembers. Im so grateful. But tell him not to worry for us anymore. I filed for divorce two weeks ago. I hope the worst is ending now.
Peter’s mother nodded, leaving for home, uncertain what to think. Soon, Alice would be free, and still her son remained unwed…
Well, I never, she muttered, I wonder if Peter will finally think of marrying her?
Time passed. Each week, Peters mother faithfully brought Alice small gifts. They drank tea together, and Alice would, with apologies, accept the food, always promising to repay one day.
But Peters mother would gently protest, Its not for you, but for your little boy. Dont deny a child a bit of kindness. The Lord sends help through the hands of others. Its His will…
A year after the divorce, Alice was herself again. New curtains brightened her windows, her little son attended nursery, looking every bit his mothers image.
Sometimes Peters mother would keep an eye on the boy, whom he called gran, and Peter would bring him fresh toys from the city.
Peter and Alice would meet at his mothers house, sharing tea and cakes, exchanging fond memories of their childhood and youth. They never uttered a word about the four lost years of Alices marriage, as if theyd never happened at all.
Peter began to visit more and more. Hed always ask,
Has Alice visited? Is her boy here today?
His mother would tease,
You might at least ask after my health first, love…
Hed blush, Sorry, Mum. How are you?but his eyes drifted toward the window.
Just go, shed tell him, Shes home today, probably waiting for you. Enough of these games. Folks are already pairing you two off in their whispers. Off with you!
Always the way, Peter laughed. Before you know it, the village decides everything for you.
He drew close, suddenly hugging his mother.
Whats this, dear? she asked, startled.
Thank you, Mum. You understand everything, accept things as they are. Thank you.
She crossed herself and went to her prayer corner while Peter dashed out the door, then returned briefly to fetch a bouquet of white chrysanthemums from his bag.
Not minding the neighbours talk, he strode to Alices house. Let them whisper all they want, he thought. Theyll see soon enough.
At the old familiar doorstep, he pausedunaware that, just inside, Alice stood silently behind the lace curtain, heart pounding, watching Peter bring flowers to her door…
