The Family Heirloom
No! Dont try to talk me out of it, Mum! Ill do it anyway!
Emily, why?! Please, just explain to mewhy do you need this?
Because, Mum, he walks into the room a whole minute before I do! Because, Mum, I cant bear to look at myself in the mirror! Because, Mum, Ill never have a normal life, not ever! No husband, no children! Oh, Mum! Cant you see?! Emily burst into tears and hurled her hairbrush at the ever-sleepy Wellington.
The cushion he was tearing at with his claws above his head had been painstakingly embroidered by Emily herself. It was meant as a gift for her grandmother, but an epic family argumentone so catastrophic it split the household into two bitter, irreconcilable campsmeant the cushion never reached its intended home. The velvet roses, delicately stitched in magentas and dusty pinks, now adorned Emilys own armchair, and from time to time became a battleground for the plump housecat whose official name was Wellington, though he responded mostly to Oi, you!
Wellingtons arrival was, naturally, thanks to Emily. She saw him being tormented by a rabble of local boys in the park near Kingston. Emilymusic folder under one armhad gently asked what on earth they thought they were doing. The boys, of course, ignored her completely. Hadnt expected meek Emily to intervene. They underestimated her. She might look delicate and etherealher mother wished her to be sobut her father had wanted a warrior. The end result was Emily: owner of a black belt in karate and a shelf crowded with dusty trophies, which she resented each time she cleaned. Emily loathed tidying; the layer of dust on her glorious achievements left her despairing, but her mother insisted they stay, certain it did Emilys self-esteem good.
Her exploits served her well. She rescued Wellington from the boys who scattered, rubbing at sore shins and egos, and Emily became the proud owner of a scrawny, balding, almost tailless kitten. His tail, however, soon fuzzed out splendidly, and the kitten became a plump, cocksure moggy, quite confident that Emily belonged to him, and he had nothing left to fret over. He led the charmed feline life, tolerating her affection, permitting heron occasiona scratch behind the ears.
The day Wellington was sworn in as a full member of the household, Emily returned from the Royal College of Music, stormy and undone. She was meant to compete in an upcoming festival, but the practice sessions went all wrong. Her nimble pianists fingers, usually reliable, transformed into wooden paddles whenever her course-mateAlexentered the practice room.
Alex, whom Emily knew for nearly as long as she knew herself. Schoolmates, then music college. Over summer, Alex vanishedfamily reasons in Leedsand Emily, on his return, found herself shy and tongue-tied around her old friend. When he gave her his customary bear-hug, chatting animatedly with fellow students, a wave of near-unbearable happiness swept over her. She wanted to cling to his warmth forever. It was unlike her. Usually, shed have squirmed away, delivered him a cheeky thump, but now she simply stood, drinking in the joy for as long as she dared.
Of course, when Alex dashed off, rustling a crumpled new symphony and declaring himself back in loud, triumphant tones, Emily scolded herself mercilessly. Silly girl! Honestly, what were you thinking?!
But that strange magic wouldnt let her go. She caught herself watching her tousled prince, dropping her eyelashes the moment he so much as glanced her way.
It was equal parts agony and delight. Emily yearned to confess to Alex, yet dreaded the mere suggestion. The idea alone made her vision swim, her fingers freeze with icy dread, her usually supple knuckles stiffen.
She suffered in secret. She couldnt confess to anyone. Her mother surely wouldnt understandor so Emily believed, and what did it matter? She could never bring herself to recount her first love to Mum.
Their relationship was complicated. Fierce devotion on both sides, but two strong-willed souls jostling for space. Tempers flared, but family arguments never escalated to flying crockery or shouted accusations; instead, Emily would quietly close her bedroom doorto her mothers face or vice versaand the house would fill with cold, stifled silence.
Cultural annihilation, Emilys grandmother once called itbefore the great rift. Phenomenal nonsense! shed add.
Emily agreed, but there was nothing to be done about tradition, so on it went. She was usually the one to make peace, gently knitting the fragile fabric of the family whole again.
She knew, unequivocally, that her mother loved herfiercely, possessively, sometimes painfully so. For Albina Margaret Berg, nothing in this world rivalled her daughter. Emily knew. She also knew that her mothers love would encase her in glass, chain her, insulate her from every imaginable harm, if it meant keeping Emily safe.
Albina protected Emily as best she knew. The result: Emilys world was little more than home, lessons, rare nature excursions and annual trips with her parents. No camp holidays, no out-of-school friends except children of her mothers carefully selected acquaintancesstrangers to Emily, who had no wish to be their friend. Not out of malice, but because Isabelle mocked her, inventing witty but wounding nicknames, and Samuel, upon first meeting, twisted the head off her favourite teddy. Serves him right! he declared.
Why it did, Emily could never fathom, but after that, she wailed at every hint Samuel was coming round.
Oh, shame the children didnt get along! Wouldve been a lovely match! Samuels mother crooned, trying to console Emily. The embrace felt hollow, though, and Emily ducked it.
Albina! Dont break the child! Grandmother scolded from her armchair. Let her choose for herself! Take that from her now, shell feel incomplete her whole life!
Dont go on, Margaret! Emilys just a child, whats she to choose? Im responsibleso Ill choose!
Just make sure you dont start thinking your child is your property.
Why did Emily remember these words so clearly? She didnt know. But each time her mother pressed her will, Emily would reply, Mum! Im not your property! which only infuriated Albina more.
Stop parroting what others say! Have your own mind!
I do! Then silence, again.
When the great family quarrel erupted, Emily was forced to stop talking to her grandmother. Who was at fault? Emily stopped trying to decide.
Everyone, perhaps.
Afterwards, her grandmother, indignant and grieving, told Albina, You should have kept your nerves in check when you were expecting! All that artistic sensitivitypoppycock! Shouldve just not thought solely of yourself! If you know your healths fragilethink! What were you thinking, Albina?
Albina, meanwhile, was a bundle of tantrums and tears while pregnant again, wringing the household like a wet cloth, waking the house at midnight, sobbing on the hall floor, Youre all unbearable! Havent you an ounce of sympathy?!
What was this sympathy her mother so wanted, and what were they to do? Emily never knew. She and her father tiptoed around the house for months, but it didnt prevent disaster. Albina lost the baby late on, and the doctors mistaken prescription was blamed by all except Albina, who blamed the whole world. Only Margaret, the grandmother, dared to speak the brute truth. If you try again, you need a proper consultant! Why didnt you ask me? Pride? Foolishness? Always insisting on your own way! And nowsee? A terrible result for all of us. But I will say this: proper therapy and peace! Children dont just appear in a basket. In your conditionyou need medical help! As a doctor herself, Margarets words cut deep.
It wore on her so much, she was whisked from her sons house with a blood pressure crisis. Albina never forgave her.
Emilys father tried to keep peace, but, seeing he had a storm and a volcano on his hands, eventually gave up. Time, he thought. Give it time.
Time passed too slowly. Emily missed her grandmother with a dull ache, but dared not defy her mother. Albina clung to Emily with renewed intensity, drawing her will to live solely from her child. Emily asked only once why they didnt try again for a brother. Albina looked at her so severely she knew never to speak of it again.
Grandmother was the only person Emily could trust with her secret. But she was gone. Margaret sold her London flat and moved to Brighton, For the best, love! To help everyones nerves. Emilys father visited twice a year, Albina never objected, but refused to let Emily go. I wont have them turn you against me!
Emily hated the arrangement, but pitied her mother, loved her father, and did her best not to stand in the way of their happiness.
She hid a photo of her grandmother inside her favourite book and, when alone, gazed longingly at it. How had the photographer shrunk the grand family treasure of the Bergs so, that when Emily looked in her own mirror, she burst into tears?
The nose. The family nose. Prominent. Outrageously beautiful According to them. Emily kept only prominent. She saw no beauty.
Its absolutely massive! exclaimed Isabelle, whom Emily hadnt seen in over a decade, reaching out as if to touch Emilys nose with a manicured finger. Sorry! But its so funny! Like Pinocchio! Doesnt it get in the way when you kiss? Wait! What? Never? Emily, not once? At your age? Youre unique! Scary, even!
How Emily held herself back, shed never know. She wanted to tear half of Isabelles showy curls from her head.
Who was she to judge Emily? Not a friend. Not even close. Isabelle had lived in Spain for over five years, rarely returning. Their last-minute reunion was engineered by Albina, much to Emilys dismay.
Darling, you havent seen each other for years!
And Id have liked another decade apart! Why?
Its important, Emily.
To whom?
To you, first and foremost! Dont question itthank me later!
Inwardly, Emily blessed her mother for this meeting, using phrases that, while polite, didnt quite match her feelings. Yet, in the aftermath, Emily made her first truly adult decision.
Im having plastic surgery!
No! Albina stared at Emily in horror. I wont allow it! Why?
Theres no use trying to stop me, Mum. Dads already said its up to me. My mind is made up.
You wouldnt dare The whisper, so faint, Emily barely caught it.
The argument ended in tears; Albina retreated to her room, desperate for a solution.
It arrived near midnight, simple and blinding, and Albina raced to ask her husband for Margarets Brighton number.
By the next day, Emily was on a flight to Brighton. Albina herself drove her to Heathrow and, hugging her at the gate, whispered, We do so many foolish things, Emily. Lose so much, looking for something, where theres so much to find Dont repeat my mistakes! Remember, Im waiting and I love youmore than life, more than all the world.
Emily could only nod, squeeze her mum goodbye, and board the plane to her grandmother. And right now, that was what mattered.
Margaret welcomed Emily with such warmth, words failed them for two days. When calm returned, they sat together and at last, spoke normally.
Tell me, Emily, what made your mother wise up and becomefinallya real woman?
I dont know. Maybe because I want to chop off my nose.
But why? Youre gorgeous! A touch more mascara, perhaps, but honestlynonsense!
Gran! You too? I look like Pinocchio!
Who told you that rot?
Some people
Emily bit her lipmemories of glittering, composed Isabelle stung. Of course, men followed girls like her in droves. She could have anyone she wanted.
Those who deride someones looks openly, my dear, are not people. Theyre accidents God simply forgot to fix. No one is perfectespecially not women! If you show me one who is utterly satisfied with her looks, the Guinness Book could close shopno greater rarity to be found!
Maybe Ill apply! Most prominent noseId win for sure!
Wait a tick, Margaret rose gracefully and swept into the next room, returning with a heavy blue velvet photo album. Here!
What is it?
All the women for whom the Berg nose never got in the way of happiness. Your ancestors. Not allsome photographs were lost. You wont see my cousins, who vanished in the blitz. But see, heres Aunt Violet, who was hidden as a child during the war by a kind soul, and went on to save countless lives as a surgeon. She even had a special mask made to fit her nose in the theatre. Look!
A photo: a tall woman laughing amid the Brighton waves, broad-brimmed hat in one hand, a handsome man by her side.
Is that Uncle Michael?
Yes! Young, robust, so handsome! Violet adored him. He fell ill later and she gave up everything to care for him, spoon-fed him, loved him to the end. When he died, she followed within six months. She couldnt bear the separation.
What a life
And Violet was only one. The surname was never changed in marriagewe kept the Berg name alive out of respect for your great-grandfather and his brother. From them, our nosesour treasurestrace down. Oddly enough, every Berg woman found love, had children, saw grandchildren and often great-grandchildren. Not too shabby!
Margaret then opened a little carved box from the bureau. Seems time, at last. Take this, Emily. Aunt Violet left this for you. Each woman in the family inherited something.
The earrings Emily found inside were breathtaking. Her breath caught, the same as when Alex brushed past her in the corridor.
They are your great-great-uncles work. He was a jewellersaw beauty where none did. He made these lilies for his wifeLily. She passed them on, and now, theyre yours.
Gran! These are a real family treasure!
As is your nose, darling! Now imagine if I called these old-fashioned, had them melted down for something new, soulless, but trendy? Ridiculous!
Emily balled her fist around the earrings and shook her head, Thats wrong!
Then dont blaspheme, child, by telling God he made you wrong. Everything you have is given right as it should be. Now, tell me about this boy whos troubled your heart. Whats he like? Whos his family?
Gran! How on earth? Emily blushed furiously.
Ah, the mysteries of womanhood! Margaret chuckled. You think I was never young?
The conversation lasted deep into the night. Emily poured out her story, seeing her grandmother not only listen, but understand. At last, the sticky choke-hold of fear lessened. She could breathe, think about her competition, dream ahead. Now she had someone to share secrets with.
Next morning, Emily caught Margaret packing a suitcase.
Where are you off to?
Its time to mend bridges, Emily. Ive made mistakes. The great one: allowing our family to be torn. I must see your mother.
Margarets resolve was unshakeable, so Emily helped pack. She rang a cab for the airport.
Later, back home in her room, Wellington purring in her lap, Emily listened to soft voices in the kitchen. She longed to go, sit beside her gran, hold her mothers hand, and ask ifat lastpeace was possible. She knew better, though. The beginnings of happiness are gossamer; best not to startle them. So easy to demolish. Buildingah, that was the work of a jeweller.
A year passed. Albina, hand on an expectant stomach, rose awkwardly as the makeup artist finished, reached up and gently pressed the gemstone lily in Emilys ear, set her veil, pinned the delicate hairdo, and asked, Ready, love?
One moment! Emily turned to the mirror. Just a little powder for the family treasure
She caught sight of herself. Nodded at her own reflection, remembering how she once shyly asked Alex if he minded her nose.
Not a bit! Youre perfect, Emily! Whyd you ask?
His confusion was so genuinely innocent, Emily closed her eyes in sheer joy.
A smile. A sparkle from under fluttering lashes. Slender arms around the wild-maned, tall musicianfresh from a global win.
Oh, no reason, darling. No reason at allShe slipped the earring into place, feeling the cool touch of silver against her skina whisper of courage from generations past. Downstairs, laughter floated up: Margarets bright peal, Albinas gentler trill, the warm thrum of Alex tuning his violin. Emily paused in the doorway. For the first time in her life, she saw the arc of her own storywoven with quarrels and reconciliations, pride and forgiveness, and an inheritance more precious than heirlooms: the slow work of mending, the gift of belonging.
Outside, the church bells rang. Emily took a breath and walked forwardnose proud, heart steadyas the doors opened wide to welcome her, glittering with hope and the promise of everything still to come.
