Five years ago, Emily moved with her husband and daughter to a five-storey block of flats on the outskirts of town. These kinds of buildings are what wed call “post-war council flats”cramped, with small rooms, tiny kitchens, and combined bathrooms.
The move came after yet another clash with her mother-in-law. At a family meeting, Emily and her husband, James, decided to rent a one-bed flatthey couldnt afford anything better, but Emily was just relieved to have their own space, even if it was temporary. After three and a half years under the same roof as Jamess parents, her patience had worn thin. She knew that to keep her little family together, they had to live separately. James, though, didnt see the problemhis parents place was just a ten-minute walk from his office, and they were saving bit by bit for their own home eventually.
The fact that Margaret, her mother-in-law, despised her wasnt exactly a secret. Emily had felt the womans hostility from day one. Shed tried everything to win them overgifts, doing all the housework, even walking their dogbut it was no use. Margaret made it clear she thought James had married beneath him. “A nobody from some backwater town,” shed sneered. At their first meeting, Margaret had glared over her glasses and delivered the line that would stick in Emilys mind for years:
“James, my boy, are you trying to send me to an early grave? Shes not right for you! Open your eyes!”
But James was head over heels. Emily had been the prettiest girl at university, and whats more, she actually listened to himunlike the other girls who only cared about handbags and jewellery.
Soon after the wedding, their daughter Sophie was born. That first year was roughcolic, teething, endless sleepless nights. Margaret never missed a chance to criticise. “Cant even raise a healthy child,” shed mutter. “No wonder the poor things always crying. I told James not to marry you. Look how you repay usliving off us, acting like youre too good for us!”
Emily had grown up without a fatherhed passed when she was seven. Her mother never remarried, afraid of bringing a stranger into their lives. “I gave up my happiness for you, my darlings,” shed say, hugging them. “No one could love you like I do, and God forbid they ever hurt you. Maybe one day, when youre grown, Ill find someone.”
But warmth wasnt exactly their familys strong suit. When Emily and her sister Charlotte married, their mother sold the house and moved abroad, finally finding happiness for herself.
Emily didnt see her friends or family often, but she didnt mind. She poured all her love into James and Sophie.
When Sophie turned four and started nursery, Emily got a job at a small biscuit factory as an accountant. Every little helped. Life settled into a routinework, home, repeat. Jamess parents visited occasionally, and theyd return the gesture, but Emilys real escape was the playground with Sophie.
Shed watch their neighboursOlivia from the ground floor, whose kids played with Sophie, building sandcastles. Then there were Lucy and Mark on the third floor, always drunk, their balcony full of squawking budgies in summer. Next door to them, a loud Romani familyfive kids? Seven? Hard to tell with all the cousins coming and going. At the end of the month, when money ran out, Lucy would knock on doors, asking for bread and milk. “The kids are starving,” shed say. “Just till benefits come in.”
“How do they stay so cheerful?” Emily wondered. But they always were, and they spoiled Sophie with sweets.
On the fifth floor lived Professor and Mrs. Thompsonpolite, distant, keeping to themselves.
And then there was Evelyn. Everyone called her “Mrs. I.” She lived alone in a two-bed flat on the fourth floor. Rain or shine, the frail old woman would shuffle out with her walking stick and a little backpack, sitting quietly on the bench, feeding pigeons and stray cats. No smiles, no small talkjust knitting in the summer, lost in thought.
“Odd woman,” Emily mused. “Never asks for help, even in icy weather. Too proud, maybe.”
Her son rarely visitedjust dropped off groceries in his Lexus, stayed an hour, then left with red-rimmed eyes.
One autumn day, Sophie came home from school to find shed lost her key. The sky had opened up, rain lashing down. She huddled in the stairwell, fighting tears, when Mrs. I found her.
“Sophie, love! Whats wrong?”
“I lost my key, and my phones dead,” Sophie sniffled.
“Well, come upstairs, dear. Ill charge your phone, and well call your mum. Tea and jam first, thoughyoure freezing!”
Sophie hesitated. “Mum says no visiting strangers.”
Mrs. I chuckled. “Then well just have to charge that phone, wont we?”
An hour later, Sophie was tucking into pumpkin porridge and apple pie, homework done, parents numbers memorised.
That evening, Emily knocked on Mrs. Is door. “Thank you. I dont even know your first name.”
“Evelyn. And this one,” she smiled at Sophie, “can call me Gran.”
Over tea and the best leek-and-potato soup Emily had ever tasted, she learned Evelyn had lost her husband seven years ago. Her son, Paul, lived in the city centre with his wifecomfortable, but childless despite years of trying. “I wont be a burden,” Evelyn said firmly.
From then on, they were inseparable. Emily helped with shopping, bills. Sophie visited after schoolbaking, homework, laughter filling the flat. For the first time, Evelyns face softened with joy.
But James grew distant, always “working late.” Then, one dawn, he dropped the bomb: “Im leaving. For my bosss daughter. Mum was rightyou were never good enough.”
The divorce was brutal. “Give me the ring back,” he snapped outside the registry office. Emily, nauseous with rage, flung it into the gutter. “Ungrateful cow!” he yelled, scrambling for it. “Youll get nothing but the bare minimum!”
Evelyn held her as she sobbed. “Be strong, love. Youre having a boyI know it.”
Two months later, Evelyn collapsed. Breast cancer, terminal. Paul brought specialists, but nothing helped. Emily nursed herchanging bandages, bathing her, cleaning.
One day, Evelyn handed her a blue folder. Insidethe deed to the flat, signed over to Emily. “Paul knows. Youre the daughter I lost years ago,” she whispered.
A week later, Evelyn was gone.
When Emily went into labour, it was the neighbours who ralliedMark, sober for once, fetched Professor Thompson, who drove her to hospital while his wife minded Sophie. The Romani family, all four kids (she finally counted!), met her at the ward with flowers.
Little Theo arrived at six AM, pink and perfect.
And when she came home, the whole building was there to welcome themproof that kindness melts even the hardest ice.
People surprise you. The ones you write off might just change your life. Look aroundsomeone needs your smile, your help, your time. Because kindness? Thats the real magic.
“Cast your bread upon the waters,” they say. “For you will find it after many days.”
And Emily did.
