Charley on a promise

An hour later I was walking past the church, up to the dark cottage in the valley, with an insulated carton of cooked runner beans and scrambled eggs under my arm. How different to my previous attempt to help the Walkers, this felt. A mother’s wisdom - just turn up with something useful, versus the folly of youth - stand at the gate and have a shall I/shan’t I moment.

The place looked almost inhabited. The curtains were open and the weeds in the front garden mown. I knocked and Sid’s dad opened. He was sober. I peered through the door. The lights didn’t need to be on as someone had cut the trees around the windows back.

'Hallo, Millie. Fancy you dropping by. We were expecting Charley any minute, or Sid, to pick the children up. Sid has long shifts on Saturday, and now that we ...' He hesitated. Maybe he thought I didn’t know about the alcohol problem in the Walker household. I helped him out.

'Now that you aren’t drinking anym