For the past fortnight, you’ve barely touched your food—smitten, are you, Emily? asked Agnes, the housekeeper.
Yes, there’s this boy at uni, but he barely notices me, admitted Emily honestly. He’s in the same year, just a different course. I wish I knew how to get his attention.
Don’t go chasing after him, love. In my day, girls didn’t—
Oh, Agnes, not that old tune again. Times have changed! Emily rolled her eyes, finishing breakfast. Anyway, I’ve got to dash. Professor Hardcastle won’t let me in if I’m late.
Off you go, then. Agnes crossed her, then shut the door.
Emily was born into wealth, never wanting for anything. It was Agnes—her aunt and the family housekeeper—who raised her with sense. The adults called her Aggie, but to Emily, she was always Nan.
Nan had her own story. She’d married young, back in the village, to a kind, hardworking man named Fred. But their happiness lasted barely a year—he vanished while working as a gamekeeper, likely drowned in the marsh. They never found him. Alone, with no children, grief nearly drove her to a convent.
What sort of nun would I make? I’m still young, prone to fibbing and the odd swear word. So she stayed with her parents until her younger sister, Kate, married a well-off civil servant and moved to the city. Years later, they built a grand house, and when Emily was born, Kate invited Aggie to join them.
You’ll help with Emily, keep house—it’ll be good for you.
Nan agreed, throwing herself into cooking and gardening, refusing to remarry. She adored Emily, raising her as her own, teaching her to cook.
Every woman needs her own tricks in the kitchen. It’s how you charm a man.
And you’ve got yours?
Course I have.
Emily fancied Anthony, a handsome lad from a modest background. She thought he didn’t notice her—but he did. Everyone at uni knew she came from money.
One evening, Emily rushed home, giddy. He took me for ice cream!
Clever lad, Nan chuckled. Knows girls love sweets. What next?
We’re seeing each other.
Bring him round. I’ll tell you if he’s worth it.
Later, after Anthony visited, Emily bounced to Nan. Well?
Handsome, Nan said carefully. But not for you. Saw the house, and his eyes lit up like a magpie’s. There’s darkness in him.
Oh, Nan, don’t be silly!
Four months later, Emily’s gold ring went missing. No one else had been in the house.
Told you, Nan said. Report him.
No. Let’s keep it quiet. I’ll end things.
When she confronted Anthony, he scoffed. You’re off your rocker. Why would I want your rubbish?
That was that. Nan held her as she cried.
Next, Emily met Robert at a friend’s birthday. He was charming—theatre dates, flowers, all the trimmings. Even Nan agreed to meet him.
After dinner, Nan shook her head. Shifty. Can’t look you in the eye.
But he’s lovely!
Then disaster struck. Emily’s parents died in a car crash. The funeral passed in a blur.
I’ll never leave you, Nan whispered. What’s yours stays with you.
One evening, Emily overheard Robert on the phone.
Wait till you see her house. She’s alone now—just some old biddy with her. I’ll propose quick, get my hands on it.
She fled, sobbing. Nan held her.
Next time, play poor. See who really cares.
Years later, Emily finished uni and joined her father’s old friend, Stephen, at his firm. There, she met Silas—quiet, clever, blushing whenever they spoke.
Stephen praised him. Reliable. Sharp mind.
Silas finally asked her out.
At dinner with his mother, Margaret, Emily felt at ease.
You’re not like those spoiled girls, Margaret said warmly. Silas adores you.
When Silas visited Emily’s home, he was stunned but gracious, treating Nan like family.
That’s your man, Nan declared. Modest, kind—no envy in him.
They married. Stephen, glad to see his late friend’s daughter happy, groomed Silas to take over his firm.
Now Emily is forty-two, blissful with Silas, raising twin boys with Nan’s help. Though frail, Nan still fusses over her garden.
And Silas? Stephen trusts him completely—planning to hand him the business one day. After all, his own daughter lives abroad, divorced from a wastrel.
What’s yours stays with you.
