No good story is complete without a bit of love.
Eight-year-old Daisy was walking home from school when she suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to see her mum, who lived in the next village. Instead of heading back to her dad and grans house, she turned toward the bus stop, waited for the next ride, and hopped on.
“Why did Mum have to be like this? She didnt want to stay with Dad, even though hes lovely. I did live with her once, but I hated itshed leave me alone, bring home that bloke Dave, and theyd both be smashed. As much as I love Dad and Gran, I still miss her sometimes.”
Daisy got off the bus and trudged toward her mums house. As she turned the corner, she spotted Irene slumped on a bench near the front door, clearly worse for wear.
“Oh, love, whered you come from?” Irene slurred, pulling her into a wobbly hug.
“Mum, I missed you,” Daisy said, hugging her back.
They exchanged a few words before Irene cut straight to the chase.
“Daisy, you got any money on you?”
“Just enough for the bus back.”
“Thats it? Whatd you come for then? I need cash, dont you get it?”
“Mum, I dont have any,” Daisy mumbled.
“Fine, go back to your precious dad then. Weve seen each other, thats all I needed.” Irene spotted a woman down the street and dashed off, leaving Daisy standing in the road, her heart aching.
It hit her thenher mum didnt really want her. She only had Dad and Gran. Blinking back tears, she wandered the wrong way, mistaking a small copse for the woods, and soon found herself properly lost. She stopped, looked around at the trees, and burst into fresh sobs.
Oliver and Irene had met at the village hall dance, where shed turned up with her mates from the next town over. Hed taken one look at her and asked her to dancethen never let go. Not that Irene minded.
All autumn, Oliver buzzed over on his motorbike to see her. When winter rolled in, he popped the question.
“Irene, lets get married. Im sick of riding back and forth. Move in with meMums lovely, youll get on with her fine,” he coaxed.
She didnt need much convincing. Shed gone to that dance for a reasonthere werent any decent prospects in her own village.
“Alright then, lets do it,” she said simply. Oliver was chuffedhe was getting a right stunner for a wife.
After the wedding, they moved in with Olivers mum, and she treated Irene like her own. No complaints, no fuss. A year later, Daisy was bornthe apple of her grans eye. Everything seemed grand until Oliver started noticing Irene wasnt exactly embracing motherhood.
“Dont fret, son, itll pass,” his mum reassured him. “Its just baby bluesshell settle in.”
But Irene changed for good when Daisy turned three. Suddenly, she was always out with her mates, coming home worse for wear. The whole housewife routine bored her senseless. Oliver held out hope shed snap out of itbut things only got worse.
“Im off to Natalies birthday,” she announced one evening.
“Course, love, have fun,” Oliver said, though he knew full well she was sick of home.
She didnt come back that night. When she finally stumbled in the next morning, she took one bleary look at Oliver and his mum at the breakfast table.
“Oh, whatre you lot doing up?” she mumbled, then flopped onto the bed, still dressed, and slept till noon.
Oliver had no idea Irene had a drinking problem. Back in her village, everyone knew shed taken after her mumbut no one bothered to tell him. He hadnt been back there since the wedding.
Daisy grew up with her mum barely around. Oliver started wondering if he even loved Irene anymore. She was always drunk, always messy, always vanishing. One day, she just upped and left for her old village and didnt come back for a week.
“Dad, wheres Mum?” Daisy would ask. “I miss herwhere is she?”
“Shes in the village, love.”
“Dad, go get her,” the five-year-old pleaded.
So Oliver did. But when he got there, Irenes own mother just shrugged. “Shes round Davesthat house over there.”
Inside, a rowdy group was drinking, and Irene was perched on Daves lap, laughing too loud.
Spotting Oliver, she scrambled to explain. “Oi, Ollie, its not what it looks like! Glad youre hereIve missed you!”
For a week after, Irene stayed soberlike a different person. Oliver wrestled with whether to forgive her. In the end, he did, for Daisys sake. But he didnt understand the grip drink had on her. Ten days later, Irene was at it againthis time causing a scene in the street, yelling loud enough for the whole village to hear.
“Ive had it with the lot of you! You, your mumalways watching me! And Daisy? I dont need hershes old enough. Im sick of pretending to be some perfect mum!”
That was the last straw. Oliver knew thenhe had to get Daisy away from her. Irene flounced back to her village, but two weeks later, she barged in while Oliver was out, shoved his mum aside, and took Daisy with her.
Next day, Oliver stormed over to fetch her. Irene kicked off again, refusing to hand Daisy over. So Oliver went straight to social services. When they turned up, they found Irene passed out, draped over Dave, while Daisy sat by the window, staring blankly.
They took Daisy back to Oliver. Soon after, he filed for divorceand for Irene to lose parental rights. By then, Daisy was starting school.
One evening, Oliver came home from town and called out, “Im back, Mumstarving! Daisy, look what I got you!”
Gran set the table while Daisy dashed out and leapt into his arms. He swung her around, laughing. Gran watched him carefullyuntil he grinned and nodded. Then she relaxed, pulling out all the good stuff from the fridge.
“Mum, well burst if you feed us all that!” Oliver chuckled.
But Gran fussed, thinking, *Hes only thirty-three, and now hes raising a daughter alone.* When Daisy skipped off to her room, she asked, “So howd it go, son? Whatd Irenes solicitor say?”
“What could he say?” Oliver smirked. “He was in shock. Irene turned up drunk, slurring her wordsjudge didnt need convincing where Daisy belonged. She lost custody.”
“About time. What kind of mother could she be, always pickled?”
Daisy was happy with Dad and Gran. She still thought of her mum sometimesbut not often. Gran knew a girl needed her mum just not *that* kind of mum.
Meanwhile, twenty-six-year-old Agatha loved the outdoors. She often wandered the woods alone, picking berries and mushroomseven if it meant occasionally getting lost overnight. Not that it scared her. She knew how to build a shelter, always carried matches for a fire. Her grandad, George, had taught herhed been a gamekeeper.
One afternoon, Agatha headed into the woods, lost in thought as mushrooms lured her deeper. Early September meant plenty to find. Then she realisedshe was lost again.
“Right, best rest up. Might as well make a sheltersomeonell come looking,” she muttered. At least shed told her mum where she was going.
The sun dipped, the air turned chillygood thing shed worn her jumper and old jacket. She decided to light a fire.
“Hope it doesnt rain,” she thoughtthen heard a twig snap.
A little girl stood there, tear-streaked and shivering.
“Whore you?” Agatha asked.
“Daaaaisy,” she wailed. “Im loooost!”
“Alright, Daisy, no use crying. Where dyou live?” Agatha pulled off her jumper and wrapped it around her.
Once the fire was going, Daisy spilled everything between sniffles.
“Dad and Gran must be looking for methey dont know I went to see Mum”
“Dont worry, Daisy. Im lost too. Which village does your mum live in?”
Agatha got her bearingsthey were miles from her own village. Howd she wander this far?
“Right, its getting dark. Well set off tomorrow.” They dozed off, exhausted, and at dawn, headed where Agatha thought she heard cars.
“Daisy, listenthats the road! I know where we are now!”
Meanwhile, Oliver had the whole village searching. He even dragged the local bobby to Irenesbut she barely remembered Daisy visiting, let alone where shed gone. Oliver nearly swung for her, but the bobby stopped him.
“Not worth it, mate.”
Agatha and Daisy walked along the roadside until a car pulled over.
“Dad! Daddy!” Daisy shrieked, bolting toward him. Agatha hung back. “Thats my dad, Agatha! My dad!”
Oliver, still fuming, barked at Agatha, “Who the hell are you? Whered you get my daughter?”
“Dad, dont shout! She saved mefound me in the woods!”
“Right, were going to the station.”
“Nice gratitude,” Agatha muttered, climbing into the car.
By the time they left the station, the sun was high, and Oliver felt rotten for snapping.
“Ill drive you home,” he said. “But first, come back with usGrans frantic, and shell feed us. You must be starving.”
“Bit awkward,” Agatha said.
“*Im* the awkward one,” Oliver sighed. “Sorry, Agatha. I was out of line.”
She smiledshe already knew his story from Daisy. And she had a feeling this wasnt the end. She liked him. He liked her. And really, whats a good story without a bit of love?
Sure enough, six months later, Oliver and Agatha married. No one was happier than Daisy.
