“Why did you even come?” asked the niece, clearing away the untouched plate of food.
“Aunt Lydia, can I change the channel?” Emily didnt wait for an answer, snatching the remote and flipping through the programmes. “Honestly, this rubbish you watch! Its already nine? Ive got an early start tomorrow.”
Lydia set down her knitting and studied her niece. She wasnt a girl anymoretwenty-eight, for goodness sakebut in her aunts eyes, she was still that same little Emily who used to rush into her grandmothers house in summer, begging, “Aunt Lydia, tell me about the princess!”
“Whats so important tomorrow?” Lydia asked, lowering the volume.
“Just a meeting. Work stuff,” Emily muttered, eyes fixed on the screen. “God, your fridge is weird. The milks gone off.”
“Gone off? I only bought it yesterday!”
“Well, look for yourself!” Emily sprang from the sofa, shuffling in her slippers to the kitchen. “See? Disgusting!”
Lydia followed, peering into the milk carton. It had curdled. Oddshed checked the date at the shop.
“Must be the heat,” she murmured. “Ill get another.”
“Dont bother,” Emily cut in. “I wont drink it anyway. Dairy upsets my stomach. Just make some strong tea, yeah?”
“Of course. Arent you hungry? Ive got fried potatoes with mushrooms”
“Aunt Lydia, Im on a diet!” Emily rolled her eyes. “No fried food. And I dont eat after six.”
“But its nine oclock.”
“Exactly!”
Lydia filled the kettle and dug out a tin of biscuits. Emily wrinkled her nose at the digestives.
“Cant have those either. Anything sugar-free?”
“Theres wholemeal bread?”
“Still carbs. Just tea, then.”
Back in the sitting room, some American film played, Emily staring blankly. Lydia picked up her knitting but couldnt focus. Emily had arrived that morning, saying shed stay the night before leaving tomorrow. At first, Lydia had been thrilledher niece barely visited anymore, always tied up in London with work. Now she sat there, silent, as if doing them both a favour.
“Emily,” Lydia ventured carefully, “how are things? Work alright?”
“Fine,” Emily said without turning.
“And Daniel? Werent you two talking about marriage?”
Emily stiffened, finally tearing her gaze from the telly.
“We split up. Six months ago.”
“Oh, love! What happened?”
“Nothing dramatic. Just didnt work out.”
Lydia set her knitting aside. So that was it. Shed been waiting for a wedding invitation, even eyeing dresses. She wanted to press further, but Emilys closed expression stopped her.
“And work? Youre still at that firmwhat was it called?”
“Left,” Emily said flatly. “Last month.”
“Left? You were there three years!”
“Was. Now Im not. Looking for something else.”
“How are you managing?”
“Aunt Lydia!” Emily swivelled to face her. “Why the interrogation? Im coping, alright?”
“Sorry, darling. I just worry.”
“Dont. Im a grown woman.”
Silence fell. Lydia watched her niece sidelong. Shed grown thin, pale. Her eyes dull, where once theyd sparkled. Emily used to fill the house with laughter, chattering nonstop about her plans. Now she sat like a stranger.
The kettle whistled. Emily bolted up first.
“Ill make it!” she called from the kitchen.
Lydia heard clattering cups, cupboard doors slamming. Thensudden quiet. She rose to check.
Emily stood by the window, clutching an empty mug. Her shoulders trembled.
“Emily? Whats wrong?”
“Nothing,” she sniffed. “Just tired. So tired.”
Lydia moved closer, wrapping an arm around her. Emily didnt pull awayshe leaned in, like she had as a child.
“Talk to me, love.”
“Its everything, Aunt Lydia. Daniel left because he said I was boring. Work was hellmy boss humiliated me in front of everyone. I handed in my notice. Now I cant find anything. Savings are gone. Rents due.”
“Oh, sweetheart! Why didnt you tell me? Wed have figured something out!”
“Like what?” Emily stepped back, wiping her eyes. “Your pension barely covers you. And Im supposed to handle my own mess.”
“Rubbish! Familys there for hard times.”
Emily gave a bitter laugh.
“What family? Mums wrapped up with her new husband. My brothersones in Berlin, the other in Edinburgh, drowning in their own problems. The rest? Havent seen them in years.”
“But Im here!”
“You are,” Emily conceded. “But what good does it do? Youre barely scraping by yourself.”
Lydia said nothing. True, her pension was meagre. But this wasnt about money. Why had Emily shut everyone out?
They brewed tea, returned to the sofa. Emily had calmed, even nibbling a biscuitdiet forgotten.
“Remember,” Lydia said softly, “when youd visit Gran in summer? Wed pick strawberries in the woods.”
Emily smiled. “And youd tell me stories.”
“We baked pies. You always sneaked raw dough.”
“Gran would scold, ‘Emilys eaten it all again!'” She laughedproperly, for the first time all evening. “Then shed say, ‘Ah well, Ill make more for my girl.'”
“She adored you.”
“I adored her. Wish shed lived longer. I miss her, Aunt Lydia.”
“Me too, love.”
A quiet moment passed. Then, out of nowhere:
“Did you ever regret not marrying? Not having kids?”
Lydia blinked. “But I was married.”
“Right, Uncle Colin. But that was brief.”
“Three years isnt nothing.”
“But no children.”
“No,” Lydia admitted quietly. “Wasnt meant to be.”
“And you regret it?”
“Course I do. But lifes what it is.”
Emily frowned.
“So you sacrificed everything too. For others.”
“Didnt sacrifice. Lived as I thought right.”
“Were you happy?”
Lydia shrugged. “Whos to say? Good times, bad times. Like everyone.”
“But you couldve stayed up north. Married properly, had a family”
“Couldve. Didnt.”
Emily sighed.
“Nothing works out for me either. Maybe it runs in the familyliving for others, not ourselves.”
“Whose life is ‘ours,’ if not the one were living?”
“Dunno,” Emily murmured. “The one you choose, maybe. Not the one that just happens.”
“You think people really choose? We all muddle through, then call it choice after.”
Emily nodded slowly.
“Maybe youre right. AnywayI should go. Dont want to be late for the interview.”
She kissed Lydias cheek and left. Lydia watched her go, hoping with all her heart the job came through. Not just for the moneybut to make Emily feel needed again. The girls spirit had been crushed.
That evening, Emily called.
“Aunt Lydia, I got it! Start tomorrow.”
“Brilliant! Hows the owner?”
“Seem nice. Young couple, just opened the café. Said if it goes well, I might manage it.”
“See? Things look up!”
“Too soon to celebrate. But at least theres wages. Aunt Lydia can I visit sometimes? Not to stayjust to see you?”
“Whenever you like, love.”
“Thanks. Its peaceful here. Feels like home.”
“It is your home, Emily. Always was, always will be.”
After hanging up, Lydia sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, thinking. How swiftly time passed. Emilyonce a little girlnow bore grown-up wounds. She longed to shield her, but everyone must walk their own path.
Maybe Emily was right. Perhaps theyd all lived lives not quite their own. Lydia had come south to care for her mother, stayed out of habit. Emily took the office job, dated Danielnot by choice, but circumstance. Now waitressing, same story.
But maybe that was life. Not grand plans, but daily doing what must be done. Caring, working, helping. Call it choice or chancewhat mattered was living honestly, without harm.
