The flat was split open by the relentless hiss of another tin of beans that my brother was cracking open for the third time that morning. Emily pressed her forehead to the cold window pane, watching a blizzard outside swallow the familiar outline of the street shed been promised would be peaceful by evening. It wasnt just a snowstorm; it was a white wall, merciless and thick, and Emily swore that if she stepped into it shed be lost forever perhaps for the best.
Mum, could you send someone else to Auntie Lilys? she asked, her voice sounding as if it came from another world.
Susan, feverishly stuffing clothes into a suitcase, sighed in irritation, her fingers fumbling with straps and zippers.
Do you even know what youre asking? Shes stepped in for my mum. I cant just leave her to fend for herself now. And youre not alone youve got Ethan too.
Exactly. Ethan, Emily muttered, not turning so Mum wouldnt see the betrayal welling in her eyes.
So Im stuck with him for the whole twoweek break?
Good heavens, what has he ever done to you? Hes older, so hell be smarter, right? Youre not a child any more, yet youre scared of him like a frightened lamb!
Susan snapped the suitcase zipper shut, and a chill ran down Emilys spine. Being left alone with a brother who despised her while Mum pretended not to notice felt like a punishment. She stole a glance at the bookshelf, at a thick, worn leatherbound volume. Between the pages about distant voyages lay a ticket to another life or so she thought.
At that moment Mum hurried over to the window and thrust a handful of notes into Emilys hand.
The main cash is in the lockbox in the cupboard. Ethan knows where it is. This this is for you, just in case. Youre sensible, you know.
Emily nodded, still staring at the book, fingers tightening around the notes. Suddenly Mum reached for the very same tome. Emily tried to say something, lunging forward, but didnt get the chance. In an instant Mums hand was already holding an envelope hidden between the pages.
Where did you get this? This letter is a century old! Mums voice trembled with alarm.
Emilys cheeks flamed.
Mum, could I maybe go to Dad while youre away? she whispered, but the look on Mums face made the ground and any naïve fantasies slip away.
Susan smirked bitterly, shoved the envelope back into the book and retorted, Dad? Do you really think hell be waiting with open arms? Maybe his trails gone cold at that address. She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and marched to the hallway. Listen, Im late. Ive got to run. Ill be back, well talk. Auntie Lilys number is in my diary only call in an emergency.
The door slammed, leaving a hollow echo in the hallway. Almost immediately Ethan appeared, reeking of cheap whisky and something acrid.
Well, little sis, Mums off. Looks like youre under my wing now, he yawned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. So, how much pocket money did Mum slip you?
The cash is in the lockbox, Emily muttered, trying to slip back to her room.
But he blocked the way.
Im talking about the just in case cash. Think I havent heard? Dont try to pull a fast one on me.
Youll never see it!
Dont you dare!
Emily ducked under his arm and slammed the door behind her.
That night the flat thumped with loud music, his friends laughter cut through the walls, and the air grew sticky with perfume and stale beer. Locked in her room, Emily fumbled for her backpack. The plan was mad: at first light shed head to the address on the yellowed envelope, anywhere but here.
She was dozing when the door burst open. Ethan stood there with a girl on his arm.
Clear the room, we need to talk to Emily, he barked, his eyes as cold as glass.
In a blur of iron grip, a shove, and a slammed door, Emily found herself on the icy concrete of the stairwell, backpack clutched to her chest. Ethans drunken laugh echoed, Scram, you little rat!
Tears rolled down her cheeks as the night deepened. She sat on the steps, shoes off, hugging her boots, when a voice called down, Why are you freezing on the pavement?
A man in a bulky coat stood there, his face oddly familiar. It was Mr. James Whitfield, a neighbour who had vanished for years.
Brother kicked me out, Emily snorted.
And Mum?
Gone.
For how long?
Two weeks, I think.
James shook his head. Right then. Come in, warm up. Im James, your neighbour. Ive known you since you were a tot.
His flat was empty, dusty, smelling of yesterdays stew. While he warmed a pot of spaghetti with canned meat, Emily, halfdazed, spilled her desperate plan to find her father at the address on the envelope.
James chuckled, sliding a plate over, Dont catch a cold. Youll get through the night, and in the morning well see what we can do. I had a brother too a real hurricane, not a man. I get it.
He set a shabby sofa for her, and that night became a thin line between two lives. Emily drifted into strange dreams, fleeing Ethans glassy stare, only to wake in Jamess modest, safe flat.
Thus began an odd friendship. She turned up whenever the house filled with drunken shouts. James listened in silence, occasionally sharing fragments of his own wandering past a lost family, a vanished love. He became her quiet harbour, a steady anchor in her stormy sea.
The final straw came when Ethan, unable to locate the lockbox, interrogated her with threats and shouts. His hand rose to strike, but Emily jerked away, bolting into the stairwell.
Leave and youll never find your way back! he roared.
Mum will be back, and youll get whats coming to you! Emily shouted, sprinting toward a familiar door.
The last thing I want you here! Ethan snarled, his voice trailing off.
Jamess door swung open before Emily could even knock. He stared at her tearstreaked face, at the tiny backpack, and without a word let her in.
I cant go back, she breathed, feeling the heavy weight lift from her shoulders.
He nodded, his gaze serious yet kind.
Then stay until Mum returns. After that well see what comes next.
He shut the door, sealing away not just a noisy brother but an entire era of fear and loneliness. Beyond that door a new chapter waited, and for the first time in ages Emily felt that the new might not be as terrifying as shed imagined.
***
James awoke to another sobbing whimper breaking through the thin walls of his sleep. He lay still, staring at the ceiling as dawns gloom seeped in. The cry was familiar, bitter as the smoke from an autumn fire. Is it Emily again?
The past few months had left him in a state of uneasy split. The city, steeped in old regrets, pressed on his shoulders. Six months of freedom after his last runin hadnt been enough to catch his breath. His exwife had vanished long ago, erasing herself from his life. His plan was simple: head to an old comrade, disappear into the countryside, start afresh. Then this girl appeared, a sudden reminder that running away wasnt so simple. He felt a pang of pity mixed with a gnawing fear any attention on a stray child could drag him back into trouble.
A tentative knock sounded at his door.
Uncle James, I know youre leaving. I saw your suitcase. Take me with you. I need to see my dad. Heres the address. She thrust a crumpled slip of paper at him. James whistled softly, feeling his carefully laid plans crumble under her gaze.
I cant stay. Ethans turned into a beast, and Mum she only shows up for meals and cleaning. Just get me to his train, then Ill manage myself! her voice trembled with desperation.
Emily, are you out of your mind? What if Im blamed for kidnapping you? he protested, but her huge, watery eyes silenced him. Fine, I wont abandon you. Does your dad even know youre coming?
She nodded too quickly, turning toward the window. A lie hung heavy between them, unspoken.
Thank you, Uncle James! Thank you! she sobbed, hope flickering in her voice.
Call your dad, let him know, he said tiredly, already sensing the call would never happen.
In the cramped train carriage the smell of boiled potatoes, sausage, and dust filled the air. Outside, twilight washed the snowy fields in ghostly hues. Emily clutched the backpack, her heart thudding between dread and excitement. She barely registered the world, only the thought that soon shed finally meet the man shed imagined all her life.
James, unable to abandon her to the unknown, bought tickets to the town where her father supposedly lived, intending to drop her off and head straight onward. While she slept, a crumpled note slipped from a high shelf and landed on the table. He picked it up, reading:
Dear Vera, happy birthday. Wish you joy. Its a shame things turned out so foolish. Kiss my daughter for me. Love, Igor.
He folded it gently, waiting for Emily to wake.
Sorry, didnt mean to read it. Its from him? he asked.
She nodded silently.
Did you call him? Is he waiting?
She shook her head. I only have the address. Ive never seen him.
James exhaled sharply. Blimey, Im a fool! Are you sure hes still alive?
No mum said he might have moved. But I feel hed protect me! she whispered, faith bleeding through her fear.
He merely shook his head, watching her tuck the paper away. Suddenly a sharp thought pierced him his own stalled life. Had he not taken a crooked path, perhaps hed have a family by now. Maybe this girl was the daughter he never had.
When they finally reached the town, they spent another day hunting for the place. The flat listed on the envelope turned out to be occupied by strangers. A neighbour, having overheard their conversation, felt sorry for the girl and dug through his diary, finding a new clue a village where Igor was rumored to have gone for inspiration.
They trudged to the remote village on a rattling bus. An elderly lady, as dry as last years hay, met them at the creaky gate, eyeing them suspiciously.
No money, Im fed up with city folk! she snapped.
Were not after cash, Emily said softly. Im your granddaughter.
The womans eyes widened, then softened, and she let them in. After feeding them a hearty stew, she talked at length about her son a talented yet restless soul forever chasing a phantom happiness.
Grandma, where is he now? Emily asked.
The address was Im not sure if it still works, the lady admitted.
James leaned close and whispered, Why do you need a dad youve never met?
Uncle James, I feel everything will be alright, Emily replied with a naïve, steadfast belief.
The new address led them to a bland, fivestorey council block on the outskirts. It was half past five when they reached the right floor and battered on the door until a hoarse, irritated voice barked, Who the blazes are you?
An emaciated man with a dishevelled face peered out, smelling of stale alcohol and mould.
You Igor Saville? James asked.
Yes. What do you want? the man grumbled.
Were here on personal business. May we come in? James stepped forward.
The flat was dim and cluttered. Igor shuffled empty tins off a table and gestured for them to sit.
You remember Vera? Emily asked, her legs wobbling.
Vera Saville? he frowned, searching his memory. The cook? Yeah, we met a few times. She said she was pregnant. I didnt want a kid, so I walked away. Not sure who the father was He paused, eyes landing on Emily.
What are you after?
Im your daughter. Veras daughter.
He stared, his face twisting with disgust more than surprise.
What then? What do you want from me?
The world seemed to crumble. Emily bolted, running out of the flat without a thought. James caught up with her in the street. She sobbed, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.
I dont want to live, Uncle James! Why am I useless? I found him and lost him instantly!
Hold on, Emily! Dont talk nonsense. Lifes a pendulum it swings one way, then the other. Youre still a child, with a whole life ahead. The world isnt cruel to the brave and stubborn. Happiness and love will find you, James soothed.
Please call Mum, she hiccupped, her head drooping. Shes probably losing her mind back home.
Vera, on the very first flight back, sprinted to the airport, grabbed her daughter in a fierce hug, and clung for what felt like ages. She was a gaunt, sleepless figure, but in her arms the whole universe seemed to settle.
Darling, why didnt you call? Ive gone mad! The police were about to. She glanced at James standing a short distance away. He he didnt bother you?
No, Mum. Hes a good man, better than any father I couldve married. Vera breathed out, relief washing over her.
The plane climbed, the setting sun flooding the cabin with amber light. Below, James watched the world recede, his own path now clear a fresh start, honest work, a promise to write.
Well get Ethan into that clinic you mentioned. Hes with Aunt Lily now. Hell never hurt you again. Im sorry I didnt see it sooner, Vera whispered, voice cracking.
Nothing matters now. Well get through this together, Emily replied, eyes fixed on the clouds drifting below.
Months later a rough envelope arrived, the paper stiff, the handwriting shaky yet determined. Inside was a letter from James, now settled in a modest flat with a job and a roof over his head. He wrote that happiness, he realised, didnt need much. Emily read it again, pressed it to her chest, and looked out the window where the first autumn leaves were swirling. For the first time, her heart felt light. The road home was longer than shed imagined, but she had finally found not the phantom father of childhood fantasies, but a steady, quiet harbour that had always waited for her. She sat down to pen her reply.
