The grandchildren  had just arrived. Elizabeth had agreed to look after them every weekday while her daughter, Denise worked part-time from 12 to 5 in the local hospital. Four- year old Emma was standing on a stool stirring some macaroni on the gas hob. Elizabeth, her grandmother was teaching her to cook. Meanwhile Denise was standing near the sink trying to pacify two-year old Jamie who was turning on the taps as fast as Denise was turning them off. This was his way of helping with the washing up.  His grandmother never got flustered.  In her calm voice she said, "Jamie is too young for cooking. When he is old enough, I'll teach him."

The baby was asleep in the garden, lying there peacefully in her pram near the mauve lavender bush on the patio.  Connie was just six months old.
She picked up the baby, laid her on the kitchen table and changed the nappy.  At that moment a letter dropped on the mat. Reading it before Denise left for work, Elizabeth was dismayed to hear that cousin Rose wanted to come for a holiday.
She imparted the news to Denise just as she was leaving for work.
"Imagine Cousin Rose staying here in the midst of the family," snorted Elizabeth.
"Just imagine how that would interrupt our plans."
The patio just been completed, creating a clean and tidy area for the children's play.
"I've had building workers here all the summer," continued Elizabeth. " There is nothing I am more devoted to than our family and I don't want any more interferences."
Denise smiled tolerantly and lingered a moment.  "Perhaps she'll help with the children."
Once Elizabeth was alone with the children, and they had settled down, she let her mind wander.  Since her husband had died just on the verge of retirement, Elizabeth had thrown herself into helping her daughter with the children.  It made her feel wanted, and she enjoyed having them. Nevertheless, she was rather tired, felt tied down and began to wonder whether she could stand the pace, once the children began arriving every day. And on top of this, the thought of having Cousin Rose to stay nearly made her blow her top.

Rose was the black sheep of the family, but her late husband's only relation apart from his own close family of two daughters, both married with children of their own.  They had felt a little guilty about Rose but over the years had tried to keep in touch. After having an illegitimate baby so many years ago, she had been put into an asylum in the country. But for the last five years she had been living outside in community care in a shared house, where, as she wrote in her letters, she had learnt to cook.

 Elizabeth 's face tightened as she thought how she would hate to have Rose cooking in her kitchen, where she imagined how she would ruin all the new equipment. There was a microwave oven, a gas hob, an electric baking oven, and the latest fridge-freezer, not to speak of "the top of the range" washing machine.

They had visited Rose at the community home and had congratulated the warden on looking after her so well.

Meanwhile Rose had sat in the chair thinking, "But I am looking after myself now". It was true. Rose was moving into her own cottage shortly.  She was sixty-two, and at last was looking forward to having a home of her own.

Elizabeth continued to feel a little guilty.  Attitudes had changed, and to-day it would have been unthinkable to put someone like Rose into an asylum.  However, over the years she had become institutionalised and it had never occurred to her cousins to invite her to stay even for a week-end. How could they possibly make anything up to Rose?  But Elizabeth thought she should try.
So though tired, Elizabeth began to write the letter inviting Rose to stay one week- end, in the suburban family house.  There were two empty bedrooms, so she had plenty of room. Her daughters had houses within walking distance, so never needed to stay.  Though the house was filled with the active play of young children during the day, the evenings were often lonely.

Elizabeth answered the door, when Rose arrived on a Friday evening.  In Rose's hand was the tin of cakes, she had made the previous evening in the community house kitchen.  She opened the tin and showed them off proudly.
They were currant buns, maybe a little uneven in size but delicious to eat.

"Cakes! You didn't need to do that," said Elizabeth.  "Well, I'll put them in the cupboard, but we've got plenty.  I think it would be best if you go upstairs straight away. Would you like a duvet or a blanket?"
Rose wanted to please and said that it did not matter.
"Well make up your mind," snapped Elizabeth.
"The duvet will be all right," said Rose.
It was not. The weather was quite warm, and she felt stifled under the duvet that night, but did not dare to complain.
"Perhaps you would like to cut up your own grapefruit," said Elizabeth, at breakfast next morning, handing her a curved, serrated knife.
This was not the kind of knife Rose was used to, and she fumbled, and mumbled that the knife was awkward.
"It is a present from our daughter, Denise," said Elizabeth. "It is a special grapefruit knife."
In this house there was a special tool for every conceivable occasion and Rose felt confused.  Of course Elizabeth felt at home with all the equipment and with her little car.  Without these she would not be able to offer to help her daughter so often.

"Perhaps you would like to sit out in the garden, Rose," said Elizabeth briskly.
Rose thought she would like that and wandered down the garden, admiring the flowers and vegetables. Indoors, the telephone jangled.  Elizabeth's face became anxious as she walked outside.

"Denise is coming over for lunch and bringing the children.  She wants you to see the baby.  Do you think you can cope?"
"I don't mind," said Rose.  She was stroking the cat, who had taken an instant liking to her.
"Perhaps if you stay out in the garden it will be quieter".
"It's a lovely day," said Rose. "And I have a magazine to read."  She started to study an article on healthy eating and added, "I'm trying to keep my weight down."
"Would you like some salad for lunch with grated cheese and tuna fish?"
"Yes please," said Rose.
Rose came indoors for a cup of tea and at that moment Denise bounded in with the three children.  "Can you help me to lift the gear out of the car, Mum?" she said.
Elizabeth said, "Rose, I know that you are not used to children, but we'll put the baby out into the garden and perhaps you can keep an eye on her. Her name is Connie."
"Oh, she is just like her great-grandmother," said Rose. "It is the way her hair falls down over her forehead."
"What do you know about it? You've never seen your aunt since you were a teenager," said Elizabeth sharply.
Rose bit her lip. Denise had written to tell her about her new baby, saying how like she was to her great-grandmother, Rose's aunt, who had just died at the grand old age of 101.  Denise had put six-month old Connie on the table and was changing the nappy.
Meanwhile Jamie was wandering in and out and four-year old Emma said, "I know how to cook. Can I cook something now?"
"I could teach you how to cook," said Rose.
"No, we like a balanced diet in this house. You would not know anything about that," said Elizabeth. Then she spied Denise, who having changed the baby, and put her in the pram in the sunshine in the garden, started feeding two-year old Jamie with a fried egg.
"Do try not to give him egg," said her mother. "It contains cholesterol."
"Well, what else can I feed him on?" asked Denise, feeling slightly ruffled.  "He has egg once a week only."

Rose started to say something, but no-one paid the slightest attention to her. So she wandered out into the garden again and sat near the baby's pram.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Elizabeth said, "It is a disaster. I can't have Rose here at the same time as the children."
Denise answered, "Oh, Rose is all right," and started preparing lunch for the three adults.
Outside in the sunshine, Rose found herself falling to sleep in her chair.  She woke up with a start and saw the baby asleep.  Rising to look at the  clematis, climbing over a sheltered wall, she wished that she could grow such beautiful flowers in the community garden. She walked down the end of the garden, past the greenhouses and saw the rhubarb struggling to grow.  The tomatoes were green.
At least the tomatoes in the community garden were as good as those.  She stood there for about ten minutes dreaming and planning what she would grow in her own cottage garden.
Thinking it was about lunchtime she walked back towards the house. Then horror struck and she shook like an aspen leaf. The tiled patio was empty. The baby in her pram had disappeared.  Echoes of the day long ago when her own baby had been taken for adoption returned. She noticed the garden gate leading to the street was open.
Dashing out quickly, she was in time to see a small boy wheeling a pram at half way down the quiet street. Rose hesitated.
She knew that if she interfered she might be blamed.  She was very used to taking the blame for things she had not done.  But if she went back indoors to call Elizabeth, it might be too late to catch up with the boy.  So Rose ran. By the time she caught up with the boy her heart was thumping, and she was out of breath.
She gasped, "Give me that pram."
"I'm just taking the baby for a walk," the boy said.
Rose had never seen this boy, and wondered if he lived nearby. "You should have asked her mother, first," she said softly.
"I'm her Cousin Rose", and she tried to take the pram. The boy started shouting and held on to the pram. But the raised voices caused a neighbour to look out of the window.  Seeing that he was observed by the neighbour, a middle-aged man, the boy loosened his grip on the pram and ran away. Rose took the pram and started walking home with the baby.
As she got to the garden gate, Elizabeth came out to meet her. She was frantic.
"What are you doing with our baby, Rose?  You wanted to take her away didn't you?  You are not safe to be let out of the institution."
Rose felt humiliated, but she knew that she had done the right thing this time.
Must she keep on paying for her one mistake made forty years ago?  She attempted to explain how the baby in the pram had been taken away by a small boy, who had crept in through the open garden door, but Elizabeth was not listening.
Elizabeth took her grandchild indoors. Denise agreed that Rose must be sent home immediately, and Elizabeth picked up the phone. She was going to ask the warden of her community house to keep a strict eye on Rose in future.

"This time I won't call the police," she told Rose, "but I can't have you visiting here again."
Rose said nothing but cried inside herself. She realised that no-one would listen to her story. When the warden answered the phone, she was very surprised at Elizabeth's complaint and agreed that Rose should not have taken the pram.
"But she would not harm a baby," she said.  "Rose was very nervous when she first came here, and was always talking about how she lost her own baby so long ago.  Well, Rose can come home tonight, and I will get the doctor to see her.  But I'm disappointed."
So Rose was told to go upstairs and pack her bags.  She had thought that she was doing so well.  In the community house she had made some good friends.
However, within half an hour, Rose's bags were packed, and she stood forlornly in Elizabeth's hall, waiting for to be driven to the station.
"I'm sorry about this, Rose," said Elizabeth, when she came downstairs.  "You don't understand family life.  You can't just take the baby out with asking anyone."
Rose knew it was no good saying any more.
When she got back to the community house, to her dismay the warden said that she had lost the chance to live in her own cottage for a further year.  Rose cried openly and bitterly regretted having stayed with Elizabeth.
Two or three weeks drifted by.  Annie and Jean her friends believed her story. But they were fellow patients.
Nevertheless Rose persisted with cooking for her friends.  One Saturday lunch-time, she had three small  bowls in front of her, and was slicing lettuce leaves into one, tomato and green peppers into another and radishes with cucumber into the third.
"Do you like tuna fish?"  she called to her companions, Annie and Jean. "Yes, I like tuna fish and every kind of salad stuff except beetroot," answered Annie.
"Well there's no beetroot, but I could do some grated carrot," said Rose.
"Oh, I like that," said Jean. She had just returned from taking the dog for a walk.
"Who will look after Rover, when you leave?" asked Rose.
"Well, he does not belong to this house.  It is Mrs. Andrews' dog," said Jean.
Mrs. Andrews, the warden lived in the little cottage next door.
"If no-one in this house likes the dog, he can always go back home," said Jean. "But I will miss him when I get my own cottage."
This remark made Rose think regretfully that she had lost her own chance of new beginnings.

Just then, there was a loud knock at the door.  Elizabeth had come to see her.
Elizabeth was really sorry about how she had treated Rose but did not quite know what to do.  She had misjudged Rose. The neighbour who had seen the small boy with the pram and Rose abruptly taking charge had reported the matter to the police.  As a result the full story had come out.  The truth had dawned on Elizabeth that Rose had actually saved her grandchild.
When Mrs. Andrews told Rose she had a visitor and she found out that it was Elizabeth, Rose said "I don't want to see that woman."
Bur Elizabeth had entered.
"It was you and people like you who caused all the trouble in my life," shouted Rose.  "Who was it that put me into a home forty years ago?  Now you won't believe anything I say. It is no use talking to you.  Just go away"

"But, said Elizabeth. "I want to say I"m sorry.  You saved our grand-child.  You can go into your new cottage.  The authorities say it is all right, now."

"I suppose you've done your best. But why didn't you do anything for me before now. Why did I have to waste my life?"
Rose had not been so angry for along time.
Elizabeth said she was sorry but thought it was no use talking to Rose at this time.
When she got home and talked things over with Denise, she said "Perhaps I have not understood. But everyone else thought the same about people like Rose forty years ago. I don't think we could have done anything different. But I wish we had.  I wish we had stood out from the crowd and did something different."
Denise said,  "Well lots of my friends have had babies before marriage. It has never worked out too well. But it would only make things worse to take their babies away.  I know,  I'm a mother . I would not let anyone do it to me. Not even you, Mum."
"I suppose Rose will not come to stay here again," said Elizabeth.
................
Six months later, when the flowers of Spring were beginning to show in the garden, she heard that Rose had settled in her new cottage.  After thinking about it for a day, she picked up the phone.
"Rose will you come and stay"
"Well I do get a little bit lonely sometimes, answered Rose. "Yes I'd like to come to stay.
"You mean you accept my apology"
"Life's too short," said Rose to keep thinking about the past. Yes, I'd like to come"
Suddenly Elizabeth felt brighter.