Onwards to somewhere
When Susan arrived in her homeland, she felt like a stranger. Her mother and grandfather met her. Her mother said that she didn’t want her to see the children. This seemed strange but Susan accepted it.
Her grandfather, old and wise, said "I have room for you, my dear."
She stayed in the little hut beside his hen-run, and Grandfather talked quietly to her all day. He let her eat the hens' food when she wanted to, but kept the tasty grubs away from her. Susan was sad about this, but she trusted him.
She watched the hens - somehow it wasn’t the same. None of them were Biddy, and they had nothing to say to her.
Grandfather said much the same things to her as Biddy had done: about the children and how they needed her.
“They don’t need a hen for a mother, my dear,” he said.
"I would be a better mother as a hen, Pop," she clucked to him. "They don't abandon their chicks."
“The children need you as you were, all the same. Can you come back to us, do you think?”
She longed to see her children, and wished that she could talk to Biddy about it. She tried out a few clucks to see how it sounded, but Pop's hens had nothing to say to her. She realised she could only talk to Biddy and she wasn't there.
Soon she felt dumb. She could only cluck. No words came when she tried to tell Grandfather. He shook his head and gave her honey and lemon to drink. Susan longed to speak, if only to her children.
Next chapter Finding her voice
