“Leave her here, let her die!” they said, tossing the old woman into the snowdrift. The fools didnt realise the boomerang would soon come swinging back.
Margaret Whitby walked toward her stairwell. The ladies on the bench were gossiping about the expensive car recently parked on the lawn.
“Whose is it?” Margaret asked.
“No idea!” one of them replied. “Must belong to Mary. Folks like us dont get fancy motors pulling up outside.”
“Only ambulances come round here!” another cackled.
The neighbours nattered on about council troubles and idle rumours when Mary herself emerged, the owner of the flashy car. She walked off without so much as glancing at them or the vehicle squatting on the grass. Margaret hurried inside.
“Margaret Whitby?” a mans voice called as she reached the landing. “Remember me? We spoke a few days back. Im your cousin.”
“Oh, Geoffrey!” she exclaimed, recognising him. “Why didnt you say you were visiting? Is that your car on my lawn?”
“Aye, mine.”
“Then shift it before someone keys it! What were you thinking, parking on my flowers?”
Geoffrey scurried outside while Margaret put the kettle on. She needed to sell the flatdidnt fancy leaving the neighbours a trampled garden.
Years ago, her uncle used to visit with his son. Then the family lost touch. And now here the lad was! Still, something about him unsettled her. He smoked like a chimney. Young, yet his teeth were already stained. At least hed come. Shed rather not deal with estate agentsbetter to let her nephew handle the sale. But he refused payment.
Margaret, widowed and childless, longed to retire to the countryside. Fresh air beat traipsing up and down four flights of stairs. A village plot had a greenhouse, and while she still had the strength, she fancied growing her own veg. By autumn, a buyer appeared.
“Winters nearly here. Lets wait till spring,” Margaret decided, postponing the move.
“But pricesll shoot up by then!” Geoffrey argued. “Cold weathers best for checking the heating. And weve got a buyer nowwhat if they pull out?”
“You havent found me a house yet! Where would I live? Sort that first, then well sell.”
Geoffrey relented.
Soon enough, he scouted suitable cottages. They picked one and drove out to see it. Margarets heart sankthe place needed work. Still, the flats sale would cover the costs.
Geoffrey knew construction and promised to help with quotes. But unease gnawed at her.
“Winters coming. I cant be faffing with renovations. I just want to move in, proper-like.”
“Ill help, wont I?” he insisted.
Margaret doubted his urgencywhy rush the sale unless he stood to gain? Still, she thanked him. Papers were signed on the appointed day.
The buyer and solicitor arrived promptly. Geoffrey served tea. Margarets throat tightenedthis was her home. A lifetime of memories, packed away. No turning back now.
“Right then, time to move!” Geoffrey announced once the ink dried.
“Now? Ive still got china in the cupboard!”
“No timebuyers got nowhere to stay!”
Grudgingly, she agreed.
In the van, Margaret dozed fitfully. Half-conscious, she heard men murmuring.
“Can you hear me?” Geoffreys voice echoed. She couldnt answer.
“Leave her here,” she caught later, everything hazy as smoke. They dumped her in the snow.
“Shell die out here,” he added.
The truth struckhed drugged her tea to force the sale. Resigned, she closed her eyes.
Meanwhile, a passing motorist spotted the parked van. Curious, she watched two men haul something toward the woods. Heavy snow fell. Suspicious, she noted the reg and waited. After they sped off, she investigated and found Margaretalive but unconscious.
With her husbands help, they bundled the old woman into their car. Margaret stirred.
“Where am I?”
“We found you,” the womanEmilysaid. “Do you remember how you got here?”
“Aye. My nephew. The flat sale. The tea he slipped something in it! Then they drove me out and left me to freeze!”
“Lets get you warm,” Emily said, rubbing her hands.
“Kindness like yours keeps the cold at bay,” Margaret smiled. “Id have been gone otherwise.”
They reported it. An investigation began. Emily offered Margaret a room while things were sorted.
Weeks later, the flat was returned to her. Geoffrey and his accomplice were jailed. Come spring, Margaret sold up and bought her cottageno repairs needed. She dug into gardening with gusto. That summer, she invited Emily and her husband for tea. She never forgot their kindness.
