The Accidental Family
“What a grand place!” Sarah, my old uni mate, wandered through all four rooms. “Turns out youre quite the heiress, eh?”
Emma sank weakly into an armchair. “What brings you here, anyway? The faculty knows Ive been ill.”
Sarah flopped onto the worn leather sofa, which groaned in protest. Emma winced. The house was full of antiques her family had collected over decades. “Well?” she pressed, eager to lie downshe felt wretched.
“Right,” Sarah drawled. “Our course rep, James, asked me to check on you. Found out I live nearby. You know how he issuch a stickler. Wanted to know if you needed anything. Youre all alone now, after all. Though, in a flat like this…” Her voice dripped with poorly concealed envy.
Emma struggled to her feet. “Thanks for stopping by, Sarah. Tell James I appreciate the concern, but Im fine.” Sarah rose reluctantly, trailing Emma to the door. But she couldnt resist one last jab. “Wouldnt mind living here myself. Imagine the parties you could throw. Lucky you.”
Emma, uninterested, murmured, “Lucky whous?”
Sarah blurted, “The blessed ones. Not of this world.”
Emma shut the door with a firm, “All the best.”
Sleep eluded her. As long as she could remember, shed lived here with her grandmother, Beatrice. A stern woman, Beatrice had drilled etiquette, French, German, and English into Emma from childhood. At any moment, her grandmother might switch languages, and Emma was expected to respond flawlessly.
Her parents were a mystery. Beatrice rarely spoke of her “ungrateful daughter,” Emmas mother, whod had Emma with some man named Andrew. Hed lured her into a commune, where, three years later, theyd perished in a fireduring some ritual or gathering, Emma never learned the details. She felt no grief; shed never known them.
Few visitors crossed their threshold: Margaret, the seamstress who made their clothes; Dr. Edward, their elderly physician; Beatrices friends, Elizabeth and Archibald; and Peter, a retired jeweller and Beatrices longtime admirer.
Emma grew up between two worldsher grandmothers refined one and the noisy reality beyond their flats walls.
Then, disaster struck. Beatrice, who never bought food from strangers, impulsively purchased mushrooms. “They reminded me of the soup our cook, Agnes, used to make at the cottage,” shed said.
The soup was delicious. Emma had seconds. Beatrice fell ill first, then Emma. They tried calling Dr. Edward, but his phone was deadhe was away at his country home. Beatrice refused an ambulance, trusting only her doctor. But when she lost consciousness and Emmas vision swam, she dialled 999 with trembling fingers, barely unlocking the door before collapsing.
Now, the grief remained, but life had to go on. How? Her stipend wouldnt cover the flats upkeep, let alone food. Returning to uni seemed distantrecovering from deaths doorstep took time. And money.
Peter helped initially, buying a few antiques at a low price, giving her a temporary reprieve. But the flats costs were relentless. Then, Emma remembered Beatrices storieshow this had once been a shared flat, later granted to her great-grandfather for his service to the nation.
She decided to take in lodgers. Her own room would suffice; renting out the other three could ease the burden. She needed respectable tenantspreferably women.
The online ad drew calls, but none suitedmigrant workers, families with children, giggling students asking if they could host parties. When enquiries dried up, Emma considered an agency.
But fate intervened. Walking through Camden, she spotted a young woman with two small children. The girl, about five, gnawed on a stale biscuit. The boy, limp in his mothers lap, whimpered. The womanHope, as Emma soon learnedwas pleading into her phone. “Michael, how could you? The kids are starving! Ive no milk left. Where do we go? Ive no one! If your Vera wont take us, just give us a roomwe wont bother you” Her voice cracked.
Emma couldnt walk past. She knelt beside Hope, offering a tissue. “You need help?”
An hour later, the children slept, fed and warm, as Hope shared her story: orphaned at twelve, bounced from foster care, swindled out of her inheritance, and now abandoned by Michael for another woman.
“You can stay with me,” Emma said. “Well figure it out.”
But plans changed. Next came Anthony, an elderly man evicted by his daughter-in-law after she tricked him into signing over his home. Emma found him being dragged into the cold by a neighbour and took him in.
Lastly, there was Paul, a blind young man swindled by his guardian and left homeless. Emma spotted him outside uni, mocked by louts who tossed breadcrumbs like he was a pigeon. His lips trembled, but hunger kept him reaching.
Now, Emmas home brims with life. Hope works as a shop cleaner. Paul minds the childrenno better nanny exists, his storytelling a marvel. Anthony, once a chef, turns simple ingredients into feasts.
Emma doesnt regret a thing. Shes never alone. Every evening, her door opens to the warm chaos of her accidental family.
