Theres No Joy Without Struggle
How on earth did you end up like this, you silly girl? Whos going to want you now, with a baby on the way? And how do you think youre going to raise it? Dont expect my help. I raised you, and now I should raise your child, too? I dont need another mouth to feed. Pack up your things and get out of my house!
Emma listened in silence, her head lowered. The last glimmer of hope that Aunt Margaret might let her stay, at least until she found a job, vanished before her eyes.
If only Mum were here
Emma had never known her father, and her mother had been killed fifteen years ago by a drunk driver on a zebra crossing. Emma had nearly ended up in care, but then a distant relative her mothers second cousin had turned up out of nowhere. Aunt Margaret had a steady job and a house of her own, so guardianship was arranged without fuss.
Aunt Margaret lived on the outskirts of a small town on the south coast, where summers were hot and the winters wet. Emma never went hungry, she was always clothed, and she learned how to keep herself busy. There was always something to do in the house, in the garden, or with the chickens. Maybe she missed out on a bit of motherly affection, but who cared about that?
Emma worked hard at school and went on to teacher training college straight after. Those carefree student days disappeared in a flash, and now, with her exams behind her, shed returned to the town that had become her home. But her return hadnt been a happy one.
After letting off steam, Aunt Margaret cooled down a little.
Thats enough. I dont want to see you here. Go on, off you go.
Aunt Margaret, could I at least
No, Ive said everything I need to.
Emma picked up her suitcase without another word and walked outside. This wasnt the homecoming shed been hoping for humiliated, rejected, and pregnant. The bump was barely there, but she was done hiding.
She needed somewhere to stay. She wandered through the town in a daze, lost in thought.
It was the height of an English summer. The scent of apples and pears hung in the air, and ripe plums hid beneath lush, green leaves. On the wind carried the aroma of homemade jam, roast meat, and fresh bread. The heat was stifling, and Emma was desperate for a drink. Spotting a woman in the garden, she called out through the gate.
Could I have a glass of water, please?
Pauline, a robust woman in her early fifties, turned around. Of course, love, come on in if youre friendly.
She filled a mug from a jug and handed it over. Emma slumped on a bench, sipping gratefully.
Mind if I catch my breath here? Its roasting
Youre welcome to, sweetheart. Where are you from with your suitcase there?
Ive just finished college, wanted to work as a teacher. But Ive nowhere to live. Might you know anyone with a room to let?
Pauline took a close look at her: tidy, but her face was drawn, as if heavy thoughts weighed her down.
You could stay here if you like. Its nice to have the house livened up. I wont charge you much just keep things tidy. If that sounds fair, Ill show you the room.
The idea of a lodger suited Pauline just fine an extra bit of money didnt go amiss in this quiet backwater. Her son lived far away and rarely visited; a bit of company in the winter evenings would be a blessing.
Emma, hardly able to believe her luck, followed Pauline inside. The room was small but cosy, window onto the back garden, a table, two chairs, a bed and an old wardrobe all she needed. They agreed the rent quickly. After freshening up, Emma headed out to the local education office.
So began her new routine: work, home, work, the days flying past in a blur.
She bonded with Pauline, who turned out to be a kind and warm-hearted soul, and Pauline became fond of the modest girl who was always willing to lend a hand. Emma helped around the house, and in the evenings theyd have tea in the summerhouse for in the south, autumn crept in slowly.
The pregnancy was kind to Emma. She didnt suffer from morning sickness, her skin stayed clear, though her features softened. Bit by bit, she confided her story to Pauline a story all too common.
In her second year of college, Emma had fallen for Oliver, the charming son of university lecturers. His future was mapped out studies, an academic post, a solid career, always near his family. Handsome, polished, the life and soul of every gathering, he had plenty of admirers, but hed chosen Emma. Perhaps it was her shy smile or gentle brown eyes, or maybe the strength he sensed in someone whod known hardship from a young age. Who could say? Theyd barely been apart for the rest of their student days, and Emma couldnt imagine a future without him.
Emma still remembered that morning as if it was yesterday. She couldnt eat, every smell made her stomach churn, and shed been late for a few days. How had she missed that? She bought a test, went back to the halls, drank a glass of water, and waited. Two blue lines. She stared at them, hardly believing her eyes. Exams soon, and now this. What would Oliver say? Children werent remotely in their plans.
Yet, all at once, she felt warmth for the tiny life inside her.
My little one, she whispered, resting a hand on her belly.
That evening, Oliver took Emma to tell his parents. The memory still stung. In short, they told her to get rid of it and go away after graduation, so Oliver could build his career, and made it clear she wasnt good enough for him.
She could guess what was said to him. The next day Oliver came into her room, laid an envelope of cash on the table, and left without a word.
Abortion wasnt even a consideration for Emma. She already felt a bond with her baby. This child was hers, and hers alone. Still, she kept the money she knew shed need it soon enough.
Pauline listened, then said quietly, Could be worse, love. You did right keeping the baby children are a blessing. Maybe itll turn out for the best, you never know.
Any idea of taking Oliver back was out of the question Emma couldnt forgive how easily he threw everything away.
Soon Emmas pregnancy was in its final weeks, and she left work, waddling around the house. She wondered if it would be a boy or a girl, but the scans hadnt shown. As long as it was healthy, she didnt mind.
At the end of February, on a chilly Saturday, the contractions began, and Pauline drove her to the hospital. The birth was straightforward and soon Emma was holding a healthy baby boy in her arms.
Jack, Emma whispered, stroking his round cheek.
She made friends in the maternity ward. One of the women said that a couple of days earlier, the wife of a customs officer had given birth to a girl at the same hospital. The parents hadnt married, just lived together.
Would you believe it, he came in every day with flowers and chocolates for her, even gave the nurses whisky, showed up every day in a new Range Rover. But something went wrong between them she kept saying she didnt want kids. Then she left a note and just legged it, said she wasnt ready.
And the baby?
Theyre bottle feeding her, but the nurse said itd be better if someone could share their milk. But weve all got our own babies to look after.
Later, when the little girl was brought for feeding, the nurse asked:
Would anyone like to feed her? Shes ever so tiny and weak.
Ill do it, Emma said softly, putting Jack down and gathering the baby girl in her arms.
Shes so small and fair! Ill call her Poppy.
Compared to robust Jack, Poppy looked delicate as a feather.
Emma nursed her, and the baby fed hungrily, drifting off to sleep minutes later.
Told you she was frail, sighed the nurse.
So, Emma started feeding both.
Two days later, the nurse told her that the babys father wanted to thank the kind lady whod fed his daughter. So Emma met Border Officer Captain Thomas Stafford a compact man with piercing blue eyes and steady hands.
What happened next was the talk of the whole maternity ward, and in time, the whole town. The story was retold for years, because it ended in a way few could have foreseen.
On the day Emma was discharged, doctors, nurses, and porters gathered outside. Parked at the door was a Range Rover dressed up with blue and pink balloons. The young officer in his smart uniform helped Emma into the car, where Pauline was already waiting, and passed her a blue bundle, then a pink one.
To a chorus of cheers, the car set off down the lane and soon vanished from view.
Life can surprise you. Emma watched the trees slide by, holding both babies close, with Pauline quietly beaming at her. The air inside was scented with fresh flowers and baby powder. Captain Thomas, who had knelt at Emmas bedside that morning and proposed, now drove silently, glancing in the rear-view mirror at tiny Poppy as she clasped Emmas little finger, fast asleep.
Waiting at home werent just four walls. There was love, tea and jam, an old wardrobe just begging to be filled with toys, and a life no one could have scripted but it was already brimming with meaning.
