Unexpectedly and Unforeseen
“Shout all you want, see if I care! I rue the day I ever had you!” came the drunken shriek of the upstairs neighbour before Daisy even stepped into the stairwell.
“Muuuuum” A childs wail followed, long and pitiful, and Daisys heart clenched with familiar sorrow.
“I said shut it! Shut it now! What more dyou want?” bellowed Natalie again, followed by a loud crash.
“Muuuuum” The cry came once more.
Daisy hesitated, passing her own door and climbing a few steps upward. The thought of knocking, of offering help, flickered in her mindbut she lingered, uncertain.
…Daisy had married young, at eighteen, swept away by what shed thought was love. But married life turned out nothing like shed imagined. Within a year, she knew shed been wrong. Her husband often worked late, stumbling home at dawn, reeking of drink.
At first, she endured it, telling herself, as many do, that things would improve. But hope proved hollow. One evening, she returned from work unexpectedly early and found a pretty blonde in the bathjust like in some cheap novel.
She didnt argue. She just packed a bag and left. He didnt stop her, didnt apologise. Daisy walked the pavement, bag in hand, with nowhere to go.
She couldve gone to her mothers. She almost rang to warn herbut then thought better of it. The tiny flat was crowded enough with her stepfather and two younger brothers. And she had no close friends.
“Ill find a hotel, rent a flat tomorrow,” she muttered to herself.
Headlights swept the pavement as a car slowed beside her.
“Need a lift, love?” called a mans voice.
Daisy turned. A man in his forties peered from the drivers seat, eyebrows raised.
“No, no” She shook her head and quickened her pace.
Rain pattered harder. No shops were open, no shelter in sight.
“Come on, hop in. Ill take you wherever,” the voice called again.
“Its fineIm nearly there.”
“Nearlys still a walk in this weather. Youll catch your death dressed like that. And Id knowIm a doctor.”
Reluctantly, Daisy climbed in, heart hammering.
“Where to, then?”
“I”
“Not sure, eh?” He eyed the damp bag at her feet.
She looked down, cheeks burning.
“Tell you whatcome to mine. Ill drop you off and head to work. Night shift at the hospital. Sort the rest tomorrow. Im David, by the way. David Whitaker. And you?”
“Daisy,” she mumbled, cringing at her own awkwardness.
Minutes later, she sat wrapped in a blanket, sipping tea. True to his word, David had left for work. The flat was tidy, orderlyno sign of a wife.
Daisy scoured listings for a flat, sent a few enquiries. One replied straight away. By morning, shed arranged a viewing. Then, cocooned in the blanket, she slept.
She woke to the smell of coffee. David was back, whistling in the kitchen.
“Morning!” she called.
“Sleep well?” He smiled.
“Very. Found a flat to view today.”
“Struggles, just ask.”
“Youve done enough.”
“Occupational hazardhelping people. Drink up before its cold.”
…Daisy took a day off to secure the flata cosy one-bedder near work, reasonably priced. By evening, she was unpacking.
The only flaw emerged days later: Natalie, the neighbour, whose raucous parties stretched past midnight.
“So, youve bought the place?” another neighbour once asked.
“Just renting.”
“Smart. God forbid you buy under that one. We call her Nat the Drunk. Four kids, all different fathers. The older ones got taken into care, but she just had another. Yells all hours, that one.”
“Has she no husband?”
“Ha! Lives on benefits, that one. A right mess.”
Daisy sighed. Later, she stood at Natalies door, hand raisedwhen it swung open.
“What dyou want?” Natalie snarled.
“II live downstairs. Just wondered if you needed anything…”
“From you? Social services, are you?”
“No, just a neighbour. Heard the little one crying…”
“Oh, him? Little nuisance. Sayyou got a tenner?”
Daisy fished out two fivers.
“Cheers, love!” Natalie snatched them and clattered downstairs.
Daisy stepped inside. The flat was chaos. In the living room, a small boy curled on a chair like a kitten.
“Whore you?” he whispered.
“Daisy. From downstairs. Your mums just popped out.”
“Tom.”
“Hungry?” She fetched pasta from her flat. He wolfed it down.
Through the window, she saw Natalie returning.
“Best go.” Her heart ached as she left.
The next evening, ambulances and police cars crowded the street.
“Whats happened?” Daisy asked.
“Nats done herself in,” a woman muttered.
“Tomwheres the boy?”
“Care home, I expect. Hell manage.”
Daisy bolted upstairs. An officer blocked her.
“Neighbour,” she gasped. “The boywhere is he?”
“Care workers got him,” he shrugged.
Inside, a woman in uniform spoke to Tom.
“Wheres he going?” Daisy asked.
“Foster care first. No kin to take him.”
“Could I?”
“You family?”
“No, just a neighbour.”
“Technically possible. But its a process…”
“Can I visit him?”
The woman sighed. “Aye.”
Daisy resolved to adopt him. She visited Tom in care, brought sweets, grew close. But the system was rigid. No husband, no owned homeher application was denied.
Leaving the office, despondent, she heard a voice.
“Need a hand?”
“David! Didnt see you.”
“Spotted you from down the road. Fancy a cuppa?”
Over tea, they talked. Hed never marriedcouldnt have children. Before their wedding, Daisy told him about Tom. They filed the papers, and within months, the boy was theirs.
Tom Whitakeronce alone, now loved.
