William Harrison and his wife Margaret set off for Manchester to visit their daughter. As they stood outside the block of flats where their Emily lived, William noticed how uneasy his wife seemed.
“Peggy, what’s wrong?” he asked, studying her closely.
“Oh, nothing—just haven’t seen Emmy in ages, that’s all,” Margaret tried to smile, but her voice trembled.
They made their way up to their daughter’s flat. William firmly pressed the buzzer. No one answered.
“Strange—is she not home?” he muttered, glancing at his wife before ringing again.
The lock clicked, the door edged open, and William froze, stunned by what he saw.
***
The father stood there, crimson with rage, his face burning. Margaret grabbed his arm, pleading, “William, calm down, please! Remember your blood pressure! Let’s just talk to Emmy!”
But William yanked his arm free, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. Emily, lingering in the doorway, felt a chill down her spine—her father had never looked at her like this before.
“Let go, Peggy! Stop holding me back! Should’ve held her back, not me—our daughter!”
“William, darling, I beg you!” Margaret’s eyes darted between him and their daughter, helpless.
Six months ago, William had suffered a hypertensive crisis—doctors had warned him to avoid stress. But the day before, he’d snapped:
“Pack a bag, Peggy. I can’t sit still. Three months of excuses, and she won’t even visit. Something’s wrong. You’re her mother—why stay quiet?”
Margaret *had* stayed quiet. Not because she didn’t know, but because she knew too much. She and Emily had hidden the truth, hoping to sort things out first. They’d planned to confess later, let him be cross, but by then, all would be well. And now? What could she say? What could she do?
“She’s just exhausted—studying, working part-time, promised she’d visit soon. You know how she is,” Margaret babbled, but William was already pulling on his coat.
He snatched his wallet, keys, phone—then took hers too.
“Don’t even think of warning her! Am I her father or not? Saw her last summer, twirling in front of the mirror, flipping her hair, tucking it behind her ear—but mum’s the word about *who*! Something’s off. We’re going.”
On the train, Margaret tried explaining, then gave up.
“You’re rushing. Emmy planned to tell you herself once things settled. Didn’t want you stressing over your blood pressure.”
“Enough about my blood pressure! I’m her father—I deserve to know what’s happening! I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“Fine. Ring the bell,” Margaret sighed, squeezing his hand.
The door didn’t open right away. Emily must’ve checked the peephole, hesitating. But she couldn’t leave them outside.
“Knew it! Emmy—who is he? Whose baby is it? Why hide it from us?” William’s voice shook with fury and pain.
He staggered onto the landing and slumped onto the steps, clutching his chest.
“Dad, why’d you sit out there? Come back!” Emily, her pregnancy just showing, looked lost and helpless.
His girl—his pride—gone off to uni on a scholarship, and now… What now? William swallowed hard. No one else would protect her. He had to find the lad, talk to him, do *something*.
“Dad, I meant to tell you later, once it was sorted. But now—he’s had an accident, in hospital!” Emily burst into tears like a child.
William stood, brushed off his trousers, and suddenly went calm. So what if she’s pregnant? They’re alive. They’ll manage—they’ve been through worse.
Emily had been a late blessing, after they’d given up hope. Smallest in her class but so serious—never misbehaved, read during breaks, straight-A student. Got into uni, worked part-time, shared a flat with mates. That summer, they’d visited the village—everything seemed fine…
“Peggy, did you know? Knew and kept quiet?” he asked his wife, instantly regretting his harsh tone.
Margaret looked down.
“William, you were ill—the doctor said you needed rest…”
“Fine. Let’s go inside, Emmy. Start from the beginning.”
Emily told them about meeting Daniel. He worked where she did part-time. Helped her, then they started dating. Said he wanted her by his side forever, to marry her. But then confessed: he’d been married. A rushed wedding after college—both mums, old friends, insisted. With Julia, his ex, they’d been like siblings, nothing more. Divorced when Julia fell for someone else, but paperwork dragged. Then Julia claimed she was pregnant and wanted him back—the other bloke had left her.
“And you believe him? That the baby isn’t his?” William asked sternly.
“Yes, Dad. Daniel doesn’t lie. He’s always been with me—she was in another city. Went to talk to her, then the accident happened. But he’ll recover—I know he will!”
“Alright, don’t fret. Give me his name, the hospital, his number.”
“Dad, please—”
“I won’t hurt him, not while he’s in hospital. Just a chat. He’s the father of my grandchild, isn’t he? Might even be my son-in-law.”
William wiped his daughter’s tears and smiled.
“Remember our little song? *‘Hush now, Emmy, dry your eyes—Daddy’s here, big and wise.’*”
“I remember, Dad,” Emily smiled through her tears. “Here’s Daniel’s number. Thank you.”
“I’m coming with you,” Margaret said at once.
“Fine. But I’ll talk to the lad alone. What if he’s lied? Or worse. Needs sorting. You’ll be on standby, Peggy.”
Daniel was indeed in a small-town hospital near Manchester, just moved from ICU. William flashed his old warrant card at the desk.
“Major Harrison, retired. Need a word with Daniel Wright—Room 5? His wife there? Won’t be long.”
In the room, a pretty girl sat by Daniel. William didn’t flinch.
“You Daniel Wright? I’m Emily’s father. Ring any bells?”
Daniel, weak but brightening, said, “Major Harrison? This is Julia—my ex, childhood friend. She’s been a nightmare. Fell for some bloke, got dumped, decided I’ll do. Had to go sort it, then the crash. Just glad I’m alive! Sorry—I promised Emmy it’d be alright. She believes in me!”
“And this baby your ex claims is yours? Think I don’t know?” William smirked.
“Julia made it up to get me there. No baby. We filed for divorce online. I love Emmy, sir—want to marry her. We’re having a baby. Will you give her away?” Daniel tried sitting up.
“He really only loves Emily—this is my fault,” Julia cut in.
“Bloody hell, you lot!” William shook his head. “What a mess!”
“I’ll prove I’m worthy. Soon as I’m back, I’ll fix this!” Daniel said firmly.
“We’ll see. If not, we’ll raise the baby ourselves—deal with you when you’re on your feet,” William said, turning to leave.
“Thank you, sir! I’ll prove it!”
Daniel kept his word. Before the birth, they married. At the hospital, he collected his wife and newborn daughter—legally, proudly.
“Your dad’ll be a brilliant grandad—give him a grandson next time,” Daniel whispered to Emily, cradling the baby. “He believed in me. Won’t let him down. We’re together—that’s what matters.”
William approached, hand extended.
“Well then, son—congrats on the daughter.”
“And you on the granddaughter, sir! Thank you—for Emily, for everything!” Daniel shook his father-in-law’s hand firmly.
“Be happy, you two,” William smiled. “When your children are happy, so are their parents.”
