Honestly, what rotten luck, you silly girl! Whod want you now, with a child in tow? How on earth will you raise it? Dont expect my helpIve done my bit raising you, and this is the thanks I get? Pack your bags and clear out! I wont have you under my roof another minute!
Emily listened, head bowed, as her last hopethat her aunt might let her stay, just until she found workvanished before her eyes.
If only Mum were still here
Emily had never known her father, and her mother had been struck by a drunk driver at a pedestrian crossing fifteen years prior. Shed nearly been sent to a care home when, out of the blue, a distant cousin of her mothers stepped forward. With a steady job and a house in the suburbs of Brightonsunny in summer, dreary in winterthe woman had easily secured guardianship.
Emily wanted for nothing: well-dressed, well-fed, and no stranger to household chores. A mothers love mightve been missing, but who really cared? Shed been a bright student, excelled in school, and trained to become a teacher. The years flew by, and before she knew it, she was back in the town she called home. Only this time, joy was in short supply.
The aunt finally stopped shouting, breathing hard.
Just go. I dont want to see you again.
Aunt Margaret, please
I said thats enough!
Wordlessly, Emily picked up her suitcase and left. She hadnt expected to return like thishumiliated, pregnant, and utterly alone. Still, shed decided to face it head-on.
Now, she needed a roof over her head. Lost in thought, she barely noticed the summer heat. Apples and pears ripened in gardens; golden plums hung heavy on boughs. The scent of jam, sizzling sausages, and fresh bread drifted from open windows. Her throat was dry. Spotting a woman in a backyard kitchen, she called out
Excuse me, might I trouble you for a drink?
Louise, a sturdy woman in her fifties, turned.
Come in, if youre friendly.
She handed Emily a cup of water from a pitcher. The girl gulped it down, then sank onto a bench.
Might I rest here a moment? Its so hot.
Sit, love. Wherere you off to with that suitcase?
Ive just finished my studiesteachingbut Ive nowhere to stay. You wouldnt know anyone with a room to let?
Louise studied her. Clean, tired, with the look of someone carrying the world.
You can stay with me. Rents fair, but paid on time. If that suits, come see the room.
A bit of extra cash never hurt, and in their quiet corner of Sussex, opportunities were scarce. Her son rarely visited, so company would be nice.
The room was small but cosya bed, a wardrobe, a table, and a view of the garden. More than enough. They settled on £80 a week, and Emily, now changed, hurried off to the education office.
Days blurred into weeks. Work, home, work. Emily barely noticed time passing. She and Louise got on splendidlykindred spirits, sharing tea in the garden as autumn softened the air.
The pregnancy was smooth. No sickness, just a glow (and a few extra pounds). Shed told Louise everythinga tale as old as time.
In her second year, shed fallen for Oliver. Not just any boythe only son of well-off professors at her university. Charming, clever, and bound for a PhD under his parents wing. Half the girls fancied him. Yet hed chosen Emilyher shy smile, her quiet strength. Theyd been inseparable.
Then came the morning she couldnt stomach breakfast. The smells, the nauseaoh blast, she was late! A quick test confirmed it: two pink lines. Exams looming, and now this. How would Oliver take it?
A wave of warmth washed over her.
Little one, she murmured, cradling her belly.
Oliver listened, then arranged dinner with his parents. That night still stung. Theyd suggested a termination. Olivers career came first; she wasnt “suitable.” The next day, he left an envelope on her desk and walked out.
She wouldnt abort. This child was hers. Life would be hard, but shed manage. She kept the moneypractical, not proud.
Louise patted her shoulder.
These things happen, love. Youve done right. The babys innocent; hell be a comfort. Time sorts most troubles.
But Emily wanted nothing more to do with Oliver. The hurt was too fresh, the humiliation too deep.
By late February, she waddled like a duck, counting down to the birth. The scan hadnt revealed the gender, but health was all that mattered. On a Saturday, contractions began. Louise rushed her to hospital, where she delivered a sturdy, healthy boy.
Thomas, my sweet Thomas, she whispered, stroking his round cheek.
The ward buzzed with gossip. A captains girlfriend had abandoned her newborn two days priorleft a note and vanished.
Can you believe it? The mans heartbroken! Brought flowers, gifts for the nurses, visits every day. But she didnt want the baby. Madness!
And the little one?
On formula. Shameshed thrive on breastmilk. But whos got the spare?
At feeding time, a nurse brought the tiny girl in.
Any takers? Shes so fragile.
Emily didnt hesitate.
Give her here. No baby should go hungry.
Compared to Thomas, she was a wisp of a thingpale, delicate.
Oh, you poor mite. Well call you Lily.
So Emily fed both.
Two days later, the captain arrivedJames Carter, a sharp-eyed man in uniformto meet the woman nourishing his daughter. What followed became hospital legend, then town gossip, the kind of tale passed down for years.
On discharge day, staff gathered outside. A car decked in pink and blue balloons waited. The captain helped Emily inLouise already insideand handed her first a blue bundle, then a pink one.
With a honk, the car pulled away, turning the corner out of sight.
Life, as ever, had its own ideas.
