It took a misfortune to bring a blessing.
“You stupid girl! Whod want you now with a child? How do you expect to raise it? Dont think Ill help younot after raising you myself! Pack your things and get out of my house!”
Emily kept her head low, absorbing every cruel word. Her last hopethat her aunt would let her stay until she found workhad vanished before her eyes.
“If only Mum were still here…”
Emily never knew her father, and her mother had been struck by a drunk driver at a pedestrian crossing fifteen years ago. Social services had been ready to place her in care when a distant cousin of her mothers suddenly stepped forward. With a stable home and steady income, securing guardianship had been easy.
Her aunt lived on the outskirts of a quiet market town in the south of England, lush and warm in summer, damp and grey in winter. The girl never lacked for necessitiesalways well-dressed, accustomed to chores. Perhaps she missed a mothers affection, but who truly cared?
Emily had been a bright student. After secondary school, she trained as a teacher. Her college years flew by, and with them, her carefree daysuntil she returned to the town she once called home. This time, no joy awaited her.
Exhausted from shouting, her aunt finally quieted.
“Get out! I dont want to see you again!”
“Aunt Margaret, pleasecant I at least”
“Enough! Ive said my piece!”
Wordlessly, Emily picked up her suitcase and left. She hadnt imagined returning like thishumiliated, pregnant, and alone. Yet she had resolved to confess everything.
She needed shelter. Lost in thought, she barely noticed the world around her.
It was peak summer. Apples and pears ripened in gardens; peaches glowed under the sun. Vines sagged with heavy grapes, and plum trees hid beneath their leaves. The air carried the scent of jam, roasting meat, and fresh bread. Thirsty, she approached a cottage and called out to a woman in the kitchen:
“Maam, might I trouble you for a drink?”
Louise, a stout woman in her fifties, turned.
“Come in, if you mean no trouble.”
She scooped water from a bucket into a cup and handed it over. Emily sat on a bench and drank eagerly.
“May I rest here awhile? Its so hot.”
“Of course, love. Where are you off to with that suitcase?”
“Ive finished my teacher training, but Ive nowhere to live. Do you know anyone renting a room?”
Louise studied the girlclean, if weary, with worry in her eyes.
“You can stay with me. Rent wont be much, but pay on time. If that suits, see the room.”
She was glad for a lodger. Extra shillings never hurt, and in their remote town, work was scarce. Her son rarely visited. Now shed have company through long winter nights.
Stunned by her luck, Emily followed. The room was small but cosya bed, an old wardrobe, a table, and chairs. It would do. They agreed on rent, and soon, changed into fresh clothes, Emily headed to the education office.
Days blurred togetherwork, home, work again. Emily scarcely noticed time passing.
She and Louise grew close, sharing chores and evening tea in the garden as autumn softened the air.
Her pregnancy was smoothno sickness, just a healthy glow and added weight. Emily confided in Louise, her story painfully common.
In her second year, shed fallen for Daniel, only son of well-to-do professors. They hadnt wanted him studying in Londonhis future was set: degree, doctorate, teaching beside them.
Clever, charming, sought-after, hed chosen Emily. Was it her quiet smile, her hazel eyes, or something deeper? Hard to say. They were inseparableuntil life shifted.
She remembered the day vividly. Waking queasy, revolted by smells, and thenthe delay. How had she missed it? A test confirmed it. Positive. Daniel had been calm, arranging to introduce her to his parents that evening.
Tears welled recalling that meeting. Theyd suggested termination, then quietly leaving town after exams. Daniel was to focus on his career; she wasnt “suitable.”
The next day, he left an envelope of cash on her desk and walked out.
Abortion wasnt an option. She already loved the tiny life inside her. Their road would be hard, but shed keep the moneyshed need it.
Louise comforted her. “These things happen, love. You did right keeping the baby. Hell be your joy. Time may yet mend things.”
But Emily couldnt forgive Daniel. The wound was too raw.
Weeks passed. Heavy with child, she counted days until birth. The scan hadnt revealed the gender, but health was all that mattered.
Late February, contractions began. Louise rushed her to hospital, where she delivered a robust, healthy boy.
“Oliver, my sweet Oliver,” she whispered, stroking his round cheek.
She befriended the ward mothers, learning that a customs officers partner had abandoned her newborn days prior.
“Fancy that! He brought flowers, gifts for the staffvisited daily! But she left a note and vanished. Mad, isnt it?”
“And the baby?”
“On formula. A nurse said breast would be better, but whod do it? Everyones feeding their own.”
At feeding time, a tiny bundle was brought in.
“Anyone able to nurse her? Shes so fragile,” a nurse asked.
Emily placed Oliver down. “Give her hereno baby should suffer.”
She cradled the infantpale, delicate.
“Look at her! So small. Shell be Sophie.”
Compared to Oliver, she seemed barely there. Yet she latched hungrily.
“Poor mite,” murmured the nurse. And so, Emily fed two.
Days later, the officer arrived, meeting the woman nourishing his child.
Captain Harris was of average height, with piercing blue eyes. What followed became hospital legendthen town gossip, the tale too remarkable to forget.
Discharge day arrived. Staff gathered outside as a car decked in pink and blue balloons waited. The young captain helped Emily in, where Louise already sat, then handed her two bundlesone blue, one pink.
With a honk, the car pulled away, disappearing around the corner.
Such is lifeunpredictable, weaving stories beyond belief.
