Mum kept bringing home new “boyfriends”Emily remembered three. None stayed long. They left. Mum would cry, hug her, and say, *”Don’t worry, our luck will turn.”* Then shed leave for work.
The last one lasted two weeks. When Mum stopped buying him whisky, he got moody and vanishedtaking her silver earrings from the jewellery box. Mum didnt report him. Said it was her fault.
After that, five quiet years passed. Emily dared to hope theyd live in peace. But then, at fifteen, Mum fell in love. She gushed about how wonderful he was, how much he adored her. Emily was gladMum deserved happiness.
When Mum first brought Steven home, Emily liked him too. Mid-forties, well-dressed. He sipped one whisky at dinner, joked cleverly. She went to bed early, leaving them chatting. Half an hour later, the front door clicked. Gone.
Next morning, Mum praised him again. *Works in council offices, respectable, cares about appearances.* Hed suggested they move in after marryingbut theyd wait a year, letting Emily finish school first. His flat needed refurbishing anyway.
Emily watched Mum glow. Thirty-six but lately tired, resigned to loneliness. Now she was radiant.
They married just before term started. Emily studied for exams; Steven offered help. She thanked him but managed alone. Polite, he always knocked before entering her room.
They grew close. Emily confided school struggles over dinner. Steven listened, asked thoughtful questions. Mum blossomedspoiled with gifts: new earrings, then a necklace.
The year flew by. The flat was ready. *”Come with us,”* Steven urged. *”Plenty of space.”* But Emily, now eighteen, craved independence. Steven waved off money worries. *”Go to college locally. Ill help with jobs later.”*
Before they left, Steven said, *”Visit often. Well check on you too. Ask for anythingwere family now.”* They gifted her a locket for graduation. She adored it, staring in mirrors endlessly.
Mum had hesitated. *”Isnt she too young for this?”*
Steven smiled. *”Who else will give her nice things?”*
Mum beamed. Shed married the best man.
Alone, Emily found independence lonely. She visited often, but life busied. Mum dropped by with groceries or cash, sometimes meeting briefly in town.
College life thrilled her. Weekends were for family catch-ups. One visit, news: Steven had a year-long work assignment abroad. Mum would go too. *”Well send money,”* they promised.
At the train station, Mum teared up. Emily laughed. *”Mum, Im nearly seventeen! Ill behave.”* Hugs, laughter, then they were gone.
They returned briefly for New Year, showering Emily with gifts. Later, a call: the assignment extended. Two more years. Steven would visit to sort the flat for renting. Mum couldnt leave work.
One evening, Emily heard rustling in her room. Steven stood there, packing. *”Hello! Youre early.”*
*”Just clearing space,”* he said, but his gaze lingered. Shed changedcurves, makeup, womanly.
She changed clothes, glimpsing his reflection watching. At dinner, she laid his bed in the old room. Later, shower runs, kitchen footsteps. Restless, he paced.
Turning a book page, she found him in her doorwaytowel loosely hung, stare odd.
*”What do you want?”*
Three days later, he left. Relief. But months on, he returned. It happened again. Shame choked her. Thenworse. A pregnancy.
His calls went unanswered until finally: *”Miss me that much?”*
*”Im pregnant.”*
*”Christ! How?”* Panic edged his voice. *”Ill send money. Fix this. No one can know.”*
A week later, he arrived with cash and directionsa cottage miles away. *”Stay there. No clinic will help a minor. Find a local woman shell deal with it.”*
Terrified, Emily left.
The village was bleak. A toothless crone pointed her to a forest-edge hut. The woman inside scowled. *”Why come, sinner?”*
Emily wept. The woman sneered. *”Speak plainyou want me to murder your babe?”*
Horrified, Emily fled.
Andrew returned after prisonmanslaughter. Hed intervened as two men assaulted a girl; one died hitting the kerb. The son of some bigwig. Full sentence.
His grandmas old cottage became his refuge. He farmed, sold organic goods. Early one dawn, fishing, he saw a girl on the cliffa bundle in her arms.
He dived as the baby hit water. Surfacing, he heard a splashthe girl jumping after. She fought wildly as he dragged her ashore. A knock to her temple stilled her.
Home, he cleaned the newborns cord, warmed milk in a makeshift bottle. The girl woke, frantic. *”Give her back!”*
*”Easy,”* he said, placing the baby beside her.
Later, she explained: Stevens assault, the shame, the failed escape. Andrew called a favouran official who owed him. Next day, a registrar arrived.
*”Shes underage,”* the woman murmured.
Andrew shrugged. *”Well marry. List me as the father.”*
Emily blinked. *”Youd do that?”*
That evening, a sip of wine marked their quiet wedding. *”Call your mum,”* Andrew urged.
*”Mum? Its me. Im safe. Married. Youve a granddaughter.”*
*”Where are you? Steven and I”*
*”Not now. Well visit.”*
A year later, they drove to MumsAndrew in a new Jeep, Emily nervous. Mum stood scanning cars. They hugged long.
*”Stevens sorry to miss youcalled away suddenly.”*
Emily exhaled. One less shadow.
As they left, Andrew squeezed her hand. The past was theirs to outgrow.
