The Price of Happiness
Gareth lay on the sofa, eyes half-shut, listening to the sounds of the house and the street outside. Through the double-glazed windows, muffled car horns, police sirens, or maybe an ambulance wailed in the distance. In the next flat, someone was arguing, a phone rang somewhere, a door slammed shut…
He used to love lying like this, guessing which flat had the telly on, which one had a row brewing, which floor the lift would stop at…
“Daydreaming again? Did you finish your work?”
Gareth could swear it wasn’t his imagination—he’d heard his mum’s voice, distant but alive. He flinched and opened his eyes. The room was empty, the hallway door ajar. If she’d appeared from the darkness right then, he wouldn’t have been surprised—just overjoyed. But his mum would never walk through that door again. She’d died a week ago. Her voice? Just phantom pain.
He sat up, feet sinking into the soft carpet. *I’ll lose my mind if I stay here. Should’ve booked a return ticket for the day after the funeral, or at least the next.* He dug his elbows into his knees, cradled his head, and swayed slightly.
A sudden ringtone jolted him. His elbow slipped, and his head jerked forward. Gareth grabbed his phone from the table without glancing at the screen. His gaze landed on a note: *”Son, my dear…”*
“Gareth? It’s Aunt Margaret. How are you holding up? It must be awful there alone. Why don’t you come stay with me?”
“No, I’m alright.” He set the phone down, folded the letter, and tucked it into the sideboard drawer.
He couldn’t stay alone any longer. He was hearing voices now. He scrolled through his contacts. *Rob—my old uni mate. That’s who I need.*
“Rob, hey!” Gareth said when his friend answered.
“Hey! Wait, who—?”
“Don’t recognise me? Didn’t think you’d forget an old mate so fast.”
“Hold on—Gareth?! You’re back?” Rob’s voice burst with excitement.
“Been back a while. Clearly, no one missed me,” Gareth said, feigning hurt.
“Course I missed you, you git! Just didn’t expect— Wait, where are you now?”
“Home.” His tone darkened.
Rob caught the shift instantly. “Your mum?”
“Gone. Buried her a week ago. Nine days now.”
“I’m sorry. I saw her six months ago—she looked rough. Skin and bones. How long are you staying?”
“Three more days.”
“Want me to come over? No, better yet—come to ours. You’ll go mad alone.”
“Ours?” Gareth repeated.
“Yeah, I’m married. To Alice. Can you believe it? She’s right here—says hi and insists you come. Tonight. You’ll make it for dinner. Oh, and we’ve moved—got a flat with a mortgage.”
“Give me the address,” Gareth said briskly.
*Married. Alice was mad for Rob since first year, but he was always chasing some girl—till I set him straight.* He packed quickly and called a cab.
On the way, he asked the driver to stop at a shop. He grabbed a bottle of whisky for him and Rob, wine for Alice, chocolates, and a tray of cold cuts.
He skipped the lift, taking the stairs to the sixth floor. The exercise felt good after days indoors. Passing the third floor, he heard faint whining—maybe a child, maybe a puppy. He paused.
“Hey, who’s there?” He pressed his ear to the door.
The whimpering stopped. Just as he turned to leave, the sound resumed—a long, monotonous hum.
“Who’s crying?”
“I’m not crying. I’m singing,” a small voice answered.
“Why by the door?”
“Waiting for Mum.”
“Where is she? Are you alone?”
“She went to Grandma’s in hospital. I’m sick. She locked me in.”
“Locked you in? How old are you?”
“Five. Who’re you?”
“Gareth. Heard your song walking past.”
“I’m Teddy. Want to hear my Father Christmas poem?”
“Go on.” He smiled. He’d learned the same one as a kid, though he’d forgotten it.
“You get presents for poems. But how? I’m locked in. I’ll pop over to my mate’s and come back. Alright?”
“What present? Are you Father Christmas?”
“No. Wait here.”
Rob answered the door and pulled him into a bear hug.
“Been ages, mate! Where’ve you been?”
“Let the man breathe,” Alice called from the kitchen. She’d grown prettier.
“Come in—still sorting the place. Mortgage and all.” Rob’s pride was obvious.
Gareth whistled. “Nice digs. Don’t undersell it.”
“Up to our necks in debt, but it’s ours. Planning on a little one soon.” Rob beamed.
“Let’s eat,” Alice declared.
They drank, ate, shared news.
“Married? Kids?” Alice asked.
Gareth remembered Teddy. “Mind if I nick some sweets and tangerines? There’s a lad downstairs—recited me a poem. Promised him a gift.”
“Of course.” Alice packed a bag with treats.
He rang the bell. The whimpering had stopped. The door opened to a pretty woman—familiar, though he couldn’t place her name.
“You?” She recognised him.
Teddy appeared beside her, just as Gareth pictured—bright-eyed, sweet.
“Brought your gift. No toys, sorry.” He handed over the sweets.
Teddy studied him solemnly.
“Can I come in?”
“Why?”
“Talk? Been years.” He nodded at Teddy. “Sharp kid. Yours?”
“Fine.” She stepped aside.
Gareth racked his brain for her name—*Hannah? Sophie?*
“Lily!” It came to him.
“You just showed up? How’d you find me?”
“Didn’t. My mate Rob lives upstairs. His wife’s Alice. Know them?”
Lily shrugged.
“Teddy’s dad?”
“Shouldn’t you get back?”
“Yeah. Good seeing you.”
Climbing the stairs, Gareth marvelled at the coincidence. Rob buying a flat in Lily’s building. Her son crying just as he passed. *Might never have met her again. She’s changed…*
At uni, he’d seen Lily at a New Year’s bash—probably tagged along with friends. He’d noticed her glances in lectures. They drank, danced. She’d asked him to walk her home. He barely remembered talking—if they even had. Ended up in her flat anyway. Cosy. Her, soft and warm beside him… She’d woken him—*”Mum’s due back.”*
After, he’d waved in the halls, acted like nothing happened. She’d tried to talk—he’d bolted, claiming deadlines…
*Fuck.* He froze outside Rob’s door. *Teddy’s five. Five years ago was that New Year’s. Six months later, I left for Scotland. So Teddy’s… No. Can’t be. She invited me that night…*
He rang the bell.
“Finally! We nearly sent a search party,” Rob said.
“Sorry. I’ve got to go.” He grabbed his jacket.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Feels like I have. Sorry. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”
“Need a cab?”
“Nah. Need air.”
Walking, Gareth barely registered the streets. The buzz faded fast, leaving him hollow. *What if…? No, she wasn’t like that. She fancied me. Blatantly. So I used her and bolted?*
At home, he face-planted into the sofa and howled.
Next day, he returned to Lily’s with toys. Teddy gleefully tore into them. They sat in the kitchen.
“Lily, when’s Teddy’s birthday? He said soon.”
“Why? You’ll be gone. September.”
“September. So he’s mine. Christ, I was such a prick. Ignored you, acted like… Lily, I get it—I hurt you. Thought I had all the time in the world for love, family… Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Who says he’s yours?”
“Then whose?”
Lily hesitated. “I tried. You were always rushing off.”
“How was I supposed to know? Lily, I’ll fix this. Don’t say no yet. Teddy needs a dad. Mine left when I was eight. Packed up, said he’d fallen for someone else. I begged. Mum let him go. Later, she tried with others—brought one home. I hated him. She sent him packing. I wasGareth held Lily close, whispering, **”This time, I’m staying,”** as Teddy hugged his leg, finally home where he belonged.
