My Daughter Wouldnt Pick Up the PhoneUntil I Found Out Her Secret
My girl, Emily, used to ring me every Sunday without fail, even if it was just for a quick chat. Those calls were our little traditionwed natter about roast dinners, her job in London, or whatever novel shed tucked into. Sometimes shed phone me right from Tesco to ask, Mum, how long for the roast beef again? and Id chuckle because shed asked me that a hundred times before.
But come spring, the calls dried up.
At first, I put it down to her being swamped. Work piling up, maybe. Or perhaps she and her husband, Oliver, had popped off for a weekend in the Cotswolds. A week passed, then two. I texted her*Love, how are you? Missing you. Give me a bell when you can.* But they went unread. Birthdays, Christmasesnothing.
This wasnt like her. And in my gut, I knewsomething wasnt right.
Turns out, I was onto something.
It was my son, James, who finally spilled. One evening, he rang and said hed had a quick word with her. Shes alright, he claimed, but his voice didnt sound convinced. Then, almost like an afterthought, he added, Though she mentioned Oliver doesnt want her working anymore. Or driving. Says its less hassle this way.
My heart dropped.
James waved it off, saying maybe Oliver just fancied old-fashioned roles, that I was reading too much into it. But Im her mum. I know my Emily. Shes headstrong, fiercely independent. Shed clawed her way up in her career, pulled all-nighters, chased every goal shed ever set. She wouldnt just roll over and give that upnot without a proper row.
That night, I barely slept a wink. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning with worst-case scenarios. What if she was trapped? What if she was scared to tell us? What if she wasnt safe?
By dawn, I knew I had to go to her.
Next morning, I jumped in the car and drove straight to her flat in Bristolthree hours without a break. Every mile felt like an eternity. My mind was conjuring up every horrible possibility. No plan, just a mums gut screaming that my girl needed me.
When she finally opened the door, I hardly knew her.
Shed lost weight. Dark circles under her eyes, like she hadnt slept in months. She mustered a weak smile that didnt reach her eyes. And she kept peeking over her shoulder, like she was waiting for someone to barge inor worse, listening for footsteps.
My pulse was racing. I stepped closer and whispered, Youre coming with me. Now.
She hesitated, then sighed. I cant. Not yet.
That threw me. My stomach lurched. Why? Whats going on, love?
She didnt answer straight away. Finally, she moved aside. Come in, Mum.
The second I stepped inside, my jaw hit the floor. The place looked like a bomb had gone off. The sofa cushions were gone, the curtains were in tatters, and there was strawactual strawstrewn across the kitchen tiles.
I froze. What in blazes happened here?
Before she could explain, something rustled in the corner. I turnedand there, smack in the middle of the madness, was the most adorable little Labrador pup, tail going a mile a minute, gnawing on a chew toy like he hadnt a care in the world.
I blinked. Is that a sheep in your loo?
She bit her lip. Two, actually.
Turns out, she and Oliver had signed up to foster rescue animalsjust for a fortnight, she said. But a fortnight had turned into a full-blown menagerie: two sheep, four kittens, three pups, and a pair of cheeky bunnies with a taste for home decor.
I stood there, stunnedthree hours of panicking, imagining kidnappings and controlling husbandsonly to find my daughter had basically turned into St. Francis of bloody Assisi.
I started laughing. First a giggle, then proper belly laughs until tears streamed down my face. She joined in, and soon we were both howling, half-crying, half-laughing.
All that dread, all those nightmaresand it all boiled down to a house overrun with fluff and chaos.
That day, I stayed to help her tidy up, feed the zoo, and, of course, snuggle the pup who started it all.
And as the sun dipped low, she gave me a soft smile and said, You always know when to turn up, Mum.
Guess a mothers instinct never steers you wrongeven when it lands you in a living room full of sheep.
