Mum
– Oi, you with the tail! Whose are you, then? Emily stopped in her tracks, surveying the large ginger tomcat that sat neatly on her doorstep.
Naturally, the cat didnt answer. In fact, he wasnt bothered at all by Emilys presence. He didnt even so much as fidgetonly his torn ear twitched a little, as if to say, I hear you, I do! But dont expect a reply, sorry!
– Well, suit yourself! Emily huffed, a little put-out, and went rustling through her bag for her keys.
The cat shifted slightly on the doormat as if he knew precisely what she was up to but stubbornly kept his spot, watching Emily with his golden, unblinking eyes.
Emily finally found her keys and started fiddling with the lock, throwing a few fleeting glances at her uninvited guest.
She and George, her husband, had only bought the flat a couple of months back. Tiny, just two bedrooms, but for them, it was everything theyd ever hoped for. Some would say its silly to be satisfied with a home in an old block of flats and that one should aim higher. Fair enough, maybe theyre right. But Emily and George would have just laughed in their faces. Not so long ago, the idea of owning anything at all would have seemed madtheyd been sharing the box room in Georges grandfathers council house and had been chuffed just to be trusted to live on their own.
– Emily, just keep it peaceful with the neighbours, yeah! said Sheila, Georges mother, scrubbing down the room before their wedding. Theyre sound, really. Even if they are a bit fond of the drink.
– What could possibly be sound about that, if theyre always legless? Emily chuckled, wringing out her cloth and sweeping her unruly hair back from her face.
George adored her wild mane, but it was a real nuisance, especially during cleaning. No matter what clips or bands she used, little springy curls always escaped and curled around her fringe, making her look like a dandelion in a gale.
– Lifes complicated, love Sheila shook her head. Some folks have had more than their fair share of hardship. Not everyones cut out for handling life the right way.
That much Emily understood. As an orphan, raised by a foster family who were quick to move her out the day she turned eighteen, she knew better than most how people could wallow in self-pity, forgetting entirely those who depend on them.
Emilys mum left her at the train station just after her third birthday. She was left with a note tucked in her jacket pocket and a battered one-eared teddy called Toby. Emily sat quietly on a hard bench in the waiting room, just as Mum had instructed, clutching Toby tightly and quietly whimpering. She desperately needed the loo, but shed been told in no uncertain terms to stay put or face a proper telling-offmaybe even worse. So she wriggled uncomfortably, peering around for her mum.
Mum never came back. But a big policeman with a smart hat turned up. He asked her something, but Emily clamped her mouth shut and shook her head fiercely, unwilling to answer. She was too cold, too hungry, and too knackered to cry anymore. The man persisted, but it was only when he stroked Tobys floppy ear and said, Whats your pal here called, then? that she finally whispered, Toby
He gently patted Toby, then Emily, and asked, Has Mummy been gone long? and that was when Emily burst into loud, snotty tears, frightening the policeman into radioing for backup and upsetting the other passengers whod sat beside Emily all that time, waiting for their trains, never minding the lonely child.
Emily only learned the reason for her abandonment years later. A peculiar woman approached her outside school just before her GCSEs, arms wide and crying out, Daughter! Ive found you! Come give your mum a cuddle! Ive missed you so much!
By then, Emily was settled with foster parentsthere were seven kids in all, of varying ages. Food, clothes, routineeverything by the book, really. The kids all went to clubs, did alright at school, and understood the moment you turned eighteen, out you wentto make space for the next.
There was never any warmth, not really, in her foster home. The parents didnt believe in coddling, only in duty and care. When her birth mother rushed to hug her, Emily didnt move towards her, as much as she had sometimes wished for that moment. If she was honest, shed spent plenty of sleepless nights imagining being found and loved at last, Toby safe beside her, but real life was never that simple.
When her mother finally appearedcrying, grabbing at herEmily hadnt believed the tears, not even for a second. Adults had always told her it was impossible for her to remember being left at that train station, not at three. Eventually, Emily stopped arguing, keeping her memories tucked quietly away. Maybe not in detail, but enoughthe noise, the gloom, the fear. She had been left. Of that she was certain.
One of her foster sisters, Charlotte, who was in Emilys class, intervened at school when Emily flinched from the strangers embrace.
– Whos this, then, Em? Charlotte stepped protectively between them.
– No idea Everything was spinning; the world felt off-kilter. Emilys thoughts chased round and round with nowhere to land.
– Sorry, lady, youve got the wrong girl. Shes my sister. Off you go! Charlotte grabbed Emilys hand and pulled her out past the gates. Ill tell Mum! Leave her alone!
Emily, usually barely on speaking terms with Charlotte, squeezed her hand in quiet gratitude. That day, they walked home hand in hand. When their foster mum gave them a surprised look, they shrugged the same way.
– Whaaaat?
From then on, Emily gained a sister.
Charlottes story was different only in that her mother hadnt abandoned herit was her drunk father. Turns out, Charlotte, too, had always secretly wished for someone to call family, however unofficial.
Emily saw her birth mother again the next week. She lingered outside the school gates every day, but rather than snatching at her, she simply pleaded, Chat to me, love!
Emily found being called love by her intensely annoying, but Charlotte brushed this aside.
– Let her call you what she likes. They’re just words.
It was Charlotte who eventually urged Emily to speak to her mother.
– Youve nothing to lose. At least youll find out why she left you. Ask. Demand an answer! Youll stop blaming yourself.
– How do you know I still do?
– Oh, come on. We all do. Doesnt everyone wonder what was so wrong with us that we got left behind?
– Even you?
– Yeah, me too
– Youve never said
– Neither have you. Some things you keep to yourself, Em. And you cry, if you need to. I do. But Ill get over it soon. Time to grow up.
The conversation yielded little of substance.
– You left me.
– Forgive me, love!
– Dont call me that! Its infuriating!
– Alright, alright! Ill stop! Dont be angry!
– Why did you do it?
– I couldnt cope. No help, no support. Your father kicked me out.
– Why?
– I told him you werent his.
– Is that even true?
– No.
– So why say it?
– I was fuming. We argued so much. We were young and daft. And then I argued with my mum and ran off. But where could I take a kid? So I left you. I knew someone would help. I left a note, didnt I? Id come back
– And you thought a scrap of paper was enough? Whats wrong with you?
– I know Im to blame! But if youd let me make it up to you
– Make up for what? Are you going to give me back all those years I spent on my own? Sorry, but youre too late! And I dont want to see you again!
– Wont you forgive me?
– Maybe. But Ill never forget! You understand? Never!
– But theres nothing to forget! You were tiny! You cant possibly remember!
Emily stood up and walked away. In that moment, she decided never again to let someone else tell her what she could or couldnt do.
Charlotte nodded approvingly.
– Up to you, Em. If you think its right, dont look back! Move on, love!
– Youre very wise, Char
– Not really. But I will be. I want to study!
– What do you want to be?
– A counsellor. Maybe then Ill figure out how to do life properly.
They laughed about that for years afterward. By then, Charlotte had married and become a mother herself. She once told Emily,
– Its all nonsense! No ones got a clue how to do life. Not you, not me, no one.
– So how should we live, then?
– Best you can, love. So the people who matter to you are warm and safe and happy, and so strangers cant watch your life and think, Well, thats dull enough for EastEnders.
– Youre doing alright.
– Im trying! Charlotte grinned, deftly swaddling her newborn.
Watching Charlotte, Emily found herself becoming less bothered by her problems. So what if the room was in a shared house? It was central, not far from work. Bit of paint, some new curtains, and life was good! Sheila proved right, the neighbours werent so bad. Yes, they drank to forget, but they kept to themselves. Compassion, Emily realised, was a skill.
That lesson took time to sink in. Emily struggledno one had ever really shown her kindness, besides Charlotte.
Sheila and Georges grandad helped in their way.
Sheila was a force of naturestubborn, generous, and always busy. She accepted Emily wholly, which Charlotte called a minor miracle.
– Dont expect too much, Em Charlotte prepped her for meeting Georges family. Youre not everyones cup of tea; an orphan, nothing to your name, still waiting on council housing after all.
– But I got on the list!
– Do you remember your number on that list? Dont kid yourselfby the time you move in, pigsll be flying. Dont say anything about it to Sheila, either.
– Why?
– Wait till you actually get it, then celebrate. No need to count your chickens.
– Got you
– And dont expect anything from Georges mum, but dont go all hedgehog either.
– Im not thick, Char!
– No, youre not. Just understand: people take time. She doesnt have to like you just because George picked you.
Emily understood that already, even without Charlottes advice.
Sheila had rubbed her up the wrong way at first. She was too much of everythingloud, big-hearted, unable to resist making everyones life better. Emily wasnt used to that much care and, though she accepted Georges affection in small doses, Sheilas insistence on helping grated.
– Emily, my old coats had it. Would you help me look for a new one?
– How?
– Come with me to the shopping centre? George isnt any good in shops; he just sulks while I grab the first thing I see. Because of my shape, it takes time! Will you come?
Emily would say yes reluctantly, but soon found herself lugging shopping bags home. Oddly, only a couple belonged to Sheilathe rest, new coat, boots shed never have chosen for herself, a handbagwere all for Emily. Sheila would catch her gazing at a display and sweep her straight into the shop.
– What do you think? Lovely, right? That colour would suit you! Go on, try it!
Any argument was futile. Emily ended up unpacking her new things at home, feeling pathetically grateful.
Who was Sheila, really? Almost her mother-in-law, yes. Technically just a girl her son had brought homea total stranger. Its not like in fairy tales with a mother-in-law embracing you on day one. So Emily took gifts and heart-to-hearts warily, polite but distant.
Sheila seemed to understand, stopped trying so hard, and understood Emilys wish for independence without a word.
– Grandads not so young anymore. Struggles on his own. Time we moved him in with me. George, youll swap rooms.
– Mum, what about us?
– You take Grandads. Youre young, off you go. Youll manage. Grandad needs someone around.
Georges grandad grinned in his whiskers and nodded. After moving out, on weekends, hed wake up Sheila,
– Up you get, lazybones! Time for a jog!
Sheila would drag herself up, take her dad to the park, then help him with his morning cold wash.
– Dad, do you think Ive done the right thing?
– Absolutely! Let the young ones find their own way. Dont butt in unless youre asked!
– What about Emily? She practically came to me barefoot.
– Thats different. She needed you. Just dont get too carried away. Shes proud, that one. Go gently.
Sheila took his advice. She visited when invited, kept her opinions to herself, and reminded herself of her own tough youth.
The day George was born, Sheila struggled. Her own mum lived far off and her mother-in-law became a godsend.
– Youre his mum! Shed say, shaking her head as Sheilas hands trembled wrapping up the baby. What are you scared of?
– What if I do it wrong? What if I hurt him? Hes so tiny
– Nonsense! No woman knows what shes doing with her first until the babys in her arms. We all learn as we go! Just rememberno mum ever does her baby harm, not on purpose! Hes part of you, right? Listen to himand to yourself. If you get stuck, Ill help. Im not so old yet.
– Thank you
– No, love, thank you! People helped me when George came along. Its the way of things.
George barely remembered his dad or grandmathey died before his second birthday. But Sheila would remind him,
– You were loved, you know! Your gran doted on you. And your dadoh, he adored you! Always buying tiny footballs. Insisted you cant have too many.
– Mum, why did they have to go? Dad was such a careful driver, you always said.
– I dont know love. The fog was thick, visibility poor. He was only giving gran a lift to your auntshe rang saying she felt poorly, and you cant say no to family. But that lorry It wasnt his fault.
– Do you miss him?
– Terribly, darling. If not for you and Grandad, I dont know what Id have done. I loved him so much.
– And he loved you?
– Of course.
– How do you know it was love, proper love, and not just something else? Loads of people stay together for convenience, dont they?
– George!
– I mean, Im old enough to get it, Mum. These days, lots of people just live together because its easier.
– Maybe, but not me. For me, being with someone is more than splitting the bills! Dont tell me you think that?
– No, Mum. I want what you and Dad had. I want to marry for love and because I want to spend my life with someone and be loved.
– You will, sweetheart! Dont rushitll happen.
Perhaps thats why, when Emily moved in, Sheila didnt object. Her son had chosen, so she would learn to accept it.
With Emily, the difficulty faded eventually. The prickly defences dropped, and she began to see Sheila not as an annoyance but almost as a friend.
When Grandad decided to sell his room, Emily was thrown.
– Why so glum? Grandad asked, sorting some papers as Emily helped. Worried youll be out on your ear?
– No! Well manage. Were grown-ups now. If we need, well rent a room, get a flat. George only just started his new job, and who knows yet what hell take home. My wage is barely enough for a room like this one.
– Whats wrong with it?
– Its perfect! If I had the money, Id buy it in a heartbeat. But thats a fantasy; well earn for our own place in time. Weve started savingeven if its only pennies for now. Charlotte says every little bit makes tomorrow look a touch brighter, and shes right! In time, things will work out.
– Good for you! Grandad smiled.
– Did I say something funny?
He just chuckled, tapped her on the cheek, and asked for the kettle.
– Lets have a cuppa and a gossip. Not many joys left for an old man, just tea and a chat. Sheila giving you grief?
– Never! Shes been nothing but kind!
– Oh, calm down, love. Youre blushing! Dont get so worked up.
– Why do you ask?
– You know how people arealways going on about mothers-in-law eating their daughters-in-law alive. Is it true?
– Rubbish! Maybe somewhere, but not with us. You know how it is.
– Aye, I do. I know she sees you as her daughter. Dont push her away. Let her inshes a soft-hearted soul.
– I dont need pity! I can pity anyone myself!
– Thats good! But who says being pitied is bad?
– Of course it is!
– Well, then, I wont visit again!
– What? Why?
– I thought you pitied mea nice feeling at my age. If you think its so terrible, maybe you dont want me around either!
– Thats not what I meant! Pitys a bad thing, isnt it?
– Depends what you mean. Long ago, pity or to pity meant all the warmth you could show to dear ones. If someones poorly, what do they need? Love, or a bit of sympathy and a gentle touch?
– The second, probably
– Exactly! And if their heart aches?
– Sympathy.
– Exactly. But, you see, not everyone needs or deserves pity every time.
– Hows that?
– Well, say your husbands a drunk and you pity him for years. Wont do anyone any goodmakes it worse. Or if your kid misbehaves and you let him off every time out of sympathy. You pity once, twice, then theres nothing left to pity. So use it wisely.
– Grandad, I pity you
– I know! And I appreciate it! Not because Im old, but because you actually like me, right?
– I do very much!
– There you go! And I like you too!
– Thank you But who should we pity, really?
– Whoever your heart tells youthose close, your family, pets But again, wisely! It isnt much use giving a cat a sausage once outside a shop. Better to take one home, give it shelterthat’s how kindness works.
– Why?
– Because good deeds return to you, properly done.
Emily remembered that conversation that evening. The ginger tomcat, sitting stubbornly on the doormat of the flat she and George had bought with Grandads and Sheilas help, clearly wanted someone to care for him. At least, he didnt back away when Emily stroked his back, and allowed himself a gentle pat. But when she invited him in, he did something odd: shot up the stairs, leaving her puzzled.
– Wasnt like the Queen invited you or anything! Emily huffed, about to close the door, when the whiskered visitor returned.
He wasnt alone.
Trailing behind, by the scruff of his neck, was a tiny kittena ginger doppelganger.
– Blimey! Emily cupped the mewling scrap in her hands, and the big cat dashed upstairs again.
The next kitten, just as ginger but livelier by far, had no intention of letting Dad carry him. Emily laughed as the tom dropped his wriggly offspring once, twice, but always picked him up again and kept at it.
– Honestly! Youd make a better mum than most! Emily laughed, opening the door wide. Well, come in, then! Anyone left?
The cat stepped across the threshold, glancing at Emily and the kittens with wary concern.
– Go on then, dont mind me! No one will harm you here. And wheres Mum gone, eh?
No answer, of course. Instead, the cat took up his kitten by the scruff, as Emily set them down, and trotted about the hallway, teaching each kitten to use the litter tray.
– You really are the mum in this house! Emily giggled, hand over her mouth so as not to frighten her new wards. Sorrylets see what Ive got to feed you!
The toms approving stance made it clear dinner would be much appreciated, and Emily raided the fridge.
That evening, she called a family meeting.
– Sheila, if you say no, Ill try to find them another home. But I cant put them back on the street. The kittens are so tiny. I dont know what happened to their mother, but its strange seeing a father take care of them.
– I dont see why youre asking me, Emily Sheila purred, stroking the kitten in her lap. Its your place, you and Georges. You make the call. Why the long face? Youve got this sorted! Now, what did you feed them?
– Milk. Luckily they lapped it up well.
– Ill take this one when its grown a bit. And the rest?
– Ill look for homes for the kittens, but I think Ill keep their dad. Maybe Ill learn a thing or two from him.
– Learn what exactly? Sheila lifted a surprised eyebrow.
George just smiled and nodded, giving Emily the go-ahead to share the secret theyd been keeping ahead of Sheilas birthday.
– How to be a good mum Now Ill have two teachers. You and our old ginger friend.
Emily scratched the cats ear, and when Sheila hugged her, she couldnt hold back her tears.
Today, as I sit down to write this, I realise that the peopleand even the animalsyou take in, the ones you choose to care for, become your family. In this world, what we all seem to need most is a bit of kindness and understanding, given freely, and received without suspicion. That is how a lonely child, a hopeful adult, and even a stray cat or two can all find their place to call home.
