Mommy, my dear what can I do, how can I help you? sobbed Emma, kneeling beside the woman sprawled on the grimy settee.
Sweetheart, thank you for everything, rasped Mary gently, Youve already done more for me than I ever could have asked. Look how I repaid younow were living on a rubbish heap. Forgive me my salary disappears into my medicines.
Believe me, thats not all. Theres still a sliver left! Emma rose, determination flashing in her eyes. We havent lost everything yet.
Their home was a ruin, once a cosy terraced house, now a pile of bricks and broken windows. Yet the occupants didnt look like typical downandout folk. Emma and her mother had been forced out of their snug flat two months earlier. Theyd sold it to fund Marys costly operation. Emma worked as a nursery assistant and could barely afford the basics, while Mary, a former textilefactory artist, earned even less.
The only hope for Marys ailing health lay in an expensive operation. Emma pleaded with her mother that there was no other way out.
Better I die than be a burden, love, Mary whispered. Otherwise youll be left on the streets, and well have nowhere to go
No, Mum! As long as theres a chance, we must fight for it. A flat is just bricks and mortar. Id never forgive myself if those four sad walls stopped you from getting well again! Emma replied, already signing the papers.
The surgery succeeded, saving Marys life, but a long rehabilitation lay ahead, and the money for it had vanished. Mary now moved around in a wheelchair, the pair taking shelter in a ramshackle hut Emma had stumbled upon while looking for a cheap place to stay. By day Emma tended a kindergarten; by night she brought home whatever scraps of food she could scrape together. Winters chill was drawing near, and their last asseta painting of a pine forest with a strolling young couplewas all that remained.
The canvas was a genuine masterpiece, painted by Mary in her youth before a broken heart drove her from the easel. It was their only ticket out of poverty.
One damp, overcast spring evening Emma spotted a newspaper clipping advertising the Grand Regency, a fivestar London hotel that catered to the ultrawealthy. Mum, I know youll protest, but we have no other option. Ill try my luck there, she said firmly, and set off that night.
Meanwhile, Simon Parker was heading to his own luxurious hotel. His mood was as bleak as a British winter, and for good reason: his marriage to Sophie had just crumbled after two years. Simon, now in his midforties, had longed for children, but Sophie never gave him an heir. He had chosen a younger partner, hoping time wouldnt run out on his chances of fatherhood. Without an heir, who would inherit his hotel empire? The state? A charity? Hed never imagined his fairytale with Sophie would end like this.
The breakup began with a trivial mishap. Simon missed his flight, forcing him to return home early, intent on surprising Sophie with an expensive bouquet. Shed always demanded the best, and he wanted to make up for his tardiness. He slipped the flowers into the hallway, but what he found stopped his heart.
Sophie lay in bed with another man a balding, shirtless stranger. She jumped up, eyes wide.
What the? Simon barked, his voice trembling with fury. Explain yourself!
She shrugged, smirked, and threw the blame back at him. Youre too busy with work, you never give me attention. Im young, I want love, and you force me to bear children I cant stand. At least I know how to protect myself! she snarled.
Simon, feeling like a complete fool, left without a word. Two weeks later, still reeling from the divorce, he drove to his hotel, feeling his world plunge into a void.
Back at the Grand Regency, Emma hugged her coat tighter, clutching the painting. She was terrified, but she had to try. The canvas was their last hope, even if it fetched a pittance.
Simon, meanwhile, fancied himself a sophisticated gentleman, and Sophie had once caught his eye during a business trip. She worked in a partners firm, not particularly talented in management, but her beauty and poise turned her into the companys face. Simon never bothered with her résumé; he was smitten by her smile, her legs, her charm. They dined together, courted, and soon Sophiewho was already a few years youngerproposed a whirlwind romance.
Soon after, Sophie appeared at Simons doorstep with a lavish bouquet and a ring. He dropped to one knee, saying, Sophie, will you marry me? She accepted, dazzled by the diamond.
They moved into a sprawling threestorey townhouse, living the highlife Simon had always promised. It seemed their happiness was sealeduntil a surprise turned everything upside down.
One evening, as Simon pulled up to his home, an unfamiliar car idled in the driveway. He assumed it was a friend of Sophies. Inside, he heard muffled noises from the bathroom that left no room for doubt. In a fit of rage he stormed inside, grabbed a bunch of nettles from the garden, and flung open the bathroom door. There, Sophie, draped in a towel, stood beside a naked, bald man. Both shrieked in surprise, but Sophies reaction was the worst: she stared at him coolly, as if posing for a portrait.
Whats this? Look what you could lose! she taunted, then blamed Simon: Its your fault! Youve ruined my life, always at work, never here. Im young and want love, yet you force me to have children I despise! She whined, At least I know how to protect myself!
Simon felt like the worlds biggest idiot. Hed been duped, and now he was being painted as the villain. In a bizarre twist of retaliation, he waved the nettles at Sophies soft flesh. She screamed, and the stranger fled, slipping on the hallway floor.
That was the final nail in the coffin of their marriage. Sophie fled the house, screaming, and eventually made her way back to her modest council flat in a town up north, where her mother lived on a meagre pension, surviving on buses and cheap takeaways.
Back at the Grand Regency, a frantic receptionist named Victoria arrived for her night shift. Shed taken the last bus from Manchester, the hotel being a countryside retreat for the rich, where private jets sometimes landed. As she approached, she saw a dishevelled woman sprinting toward the hotel entrance, clutching a rolledup canvas under her arm. The bus pulled away, leaving the woman stranded.
Whats the hurry? Its just a bus, you could call a taxi, Victoria said.
I have no money. I came this morning to sell this painting its all we have left. No one will even buy it for a pittance, the woman, Emma, sobbed, spilling her story about her mothers illness, the sold flat, and the life on the dump.
Victoria listened, her heart tightening. She could do little, but she offered Emma the only vacant room in the hotel. Emma gratefully accepted; the night was bitter cold, and a roof was better than a cold street.
In the early hours, the hotel owner, Simon, burst in shouting, Wheres the vagrant? He stormed to the suite, dragged Emma out, and threw her onto the pavement. He then turned to Victoria, Youre fired. Pack your things and get out.
Victoria, stunned, fled after Emma onto the last bus. Emma, tears streaming, worried that Victoria, a mother of three, would now be jobless. She forgot the painting was still in the room.
Simon, still angry, went up to the suite to make sure nothing had been stolen. There, he saw the canvasa young couple strolling through a forest. A flicker of recognition crossed his face. No way he whispered, dropping the painting and bolting for the car.
He raced after the bus, the driver gawking as a sleek black saloon screeched to a halt. Victoria and Emma stared, baffled, as Simon leapt aboard, apologising profusely. I was rude, Im sorry. Its just the painting means something to me.
Emma explained that the scene was of her parents. Overwhelmed, Simon fell to his knees, pleading, Emma, I Im your father. I never knew.
In fact, Simons former lover, Maria, had vanished years ago when he was posted overseas. Shed seen him on a TV documentary where hed been an extra, hugging a girlher own daughter. Shed thought hed abandoned her, fled, and later discovered she was pregnant. Fate now tangled them together again. Maria approached, begging forgiveness, and the three of themSimon, Emma, and Mariadecided to start anew in Simons house.
Months later, Mary, now upright from her wheelchair, prepared for a wedding with Simon. Emma was ecstatic. She quit her nursery job, enrolled in business courses, aiming to take over the family hotel someday. Victoria, too, rose from receptionist to manager, firing the gossipmonger staff with a decisive, We dont need office politics here.
The painted canvas finally found its rightful place in the livingroom, hung proudly as a symbol of family unity and the trials theyd overcome. Mornings now began with laughter, plans, and the kind of cosy British optimism that makes even the toughest days feel a little brighter.
