James walked along the train platform, enjoying the warm spring sunshine. The young man had spent seven years working away, felling trees in distant forests. Now, with a tidy sum saved up and gifts for his mother and sister, he was finally heading home.
“Lad, where are you off to? Hop in, I’ll give you a ride!” came a familiar voice from behind.
“Grandad Henry! Don’t you recognise me?” James beamed.
The old man shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted at the stranger.
“It’s me, James! Have I changed that much?”
“Jimmy! Blimey, what a surprise! We’d given up hope of seeing you again! Could’ve at least sent word.”
“I was in the middle of nowhere—post rarely made it out there. How’s everyone? Mum, Lucy, are they alright? My niece must be in school by now?”
The old man lowered his gaze and sighed deeply.
“So you don’t know… Things aren’t good, Jimmy. Not good at all. Your mum’s been gone nearly three years. Lucy went off the rails, then she left little Emily behind and vanished.”
“Emily? Where is she?” James’s face fell.
“Lucy locked her in the house last winter and ran off. We didn’t find out straight away. Three days later, my missus heard a racket, went to check, and there was the poor mite at the window, crying for help.”
“We took Emily in. Hospital first, then the care home.”
The ride home was silent. Henry let James brood, knowing some griefs were best carried alone. Half an hour later, the horse-drawn cart stopped at an overgrown yard. James stared at the weeds, barely recognising his childhood home. Tears welled in his eyes.
“Don’t lose heart, Jim. You’re young, strong—you’ll tidy this up in no time. Listen, come to ours. Rest a bit, have some dinner. My missus’ll be thrilled,” Henry offered.
“Thanks, but I’ll head home. I’ll stop by later.”
James spent the day clearing the yard. By evening, guests arrived: Henry and his wife, Grandma Clara.
“Jimmy love! Look at you, all grown up! Proper handsome now!” The old woman hugged him tightly. “We brought supper. Eat first, then we’ll help sort the house. So glad you’re back!”
Over dinner, James asked, “Do you know anything about Lucy? How could she—she was always so sensible…”
“No, nothing. Poor lass couldn’t cope. First her husband gone, then her mum… Too much for her shoulders. What’ll you do about Emily? Might you take her? You’re her flesh and blood,” Clara said.
“I don’t know. I’ll tidy up here first, then visit her. She doesn’t even know me.”
A week later, James went into town to see Emily. On the way, he stopped at a toy shop. A pretty brunette greeted him with a warm smile.
“Need help choosing?”
“Yes. No clue about toys. A doll, I suppose—for a seven-year-old—and whatever else you’d recommend.”
Swiftly, she picked out a lovely boxed doll and a board game.
“Perfect! These are all the rage with girls her age.”
“Thanks! Hope my niece likes them,” James said, relieved.
***
Emily was cold at first, eyeing him warily. But the gifts softened her, and finally, she smiled.
“You don’t know me at all,” James began.
“I do. Gran and Mum showed me your photos, told me about you,” she interrupted.
“Yeah? What’d they say?”
“That you’re kind and good. Uncle James, when are we going home?” she whispered, glancing around.
The question stunned him. He realised life here was hard for her.
“Emily, are they unkind to you?” he asked quietly.
She nodded, tears falling.
“I can’t take you yet, but I promise you’ll come home soon. Alright?”
“Alright.”
James went straight to the care home’s director, who gave grim news.
“I understand you’re her uncle, but kinship alone isn’t enough for guardianship. Are you employed?”
“Not yet. I just got back. But I’ve savings—”
“Doesn’t count! Everything must be official. Marital status? Wife? Children?”
“No,” James admitted.
“Bad, very bad… If you’re serious, you’ll need a job and a wife.”
“That’s not done overnight! Emily wants to come home!”
“My hands are tied.”
James barely caught the last bus home, lost in thought.
“Oi, hello!” a cheerful voice chimed beside him.
“You?” He blinked. The shopgirl from earlier smiled back.
“I live in Littlecombe. Work in town, but Gran’s at home,” she explained.
“Well I’ll be! We’re neighbours! I’m from Littlecombe too.”
“I’m Alice.”
“James. Did your niece like the gifts?”
He sighed heavily. Helplessness made him spill his story.
“Bloody rules,” Alice muttered. “Papers deciding what’s in folks’ hearts…”
“Alice—you’re Gran Molly’s granddaughter, right?”
She nodded. “I don’t remember you, though.”
“You were knee-high when I left. Let’s drop the formalities—we’re not strangers.”
“James, I might help with the job. Our shop needs a stock boy. Light work, deliveries twice a week. But it’s official.”
“Brilliant! Just a wife to find now!” he laughed.
Next day, Alice put in a word, and James got the job. That afternoon, he visited Emily with sweets. On the way back, Alice joined him.
“Thank you. You’ve been a godsend.”
“Don’t thank me. Now, about that wife…”
“Impossible. I don’t even know any single women. All married while I was gone.”
“No such thing as impossible! Think,” she said firmly.
“Alice—you’re single, aren’t you?”
“Yes. But I’m not looking to marry,” she flushed, edging away.
“Not like that. A marriage of convenience. For the papers. We’d divorce in six months.”
Alice gaped, thrown. Part of her wanted to help Emily, but she barely knew James.
“Please! I’ll pay you—”
“No need. I’m doing it for Emily.”
“Hoorah! We’ll go to the registrar tomorrow, get it done quick. Emily’ll be thrilled!”
Two months later, Emily was home. For the first week, fearing inspection, Alice stayed with James. The ruse was nerve-wracking, but it worked.
Emily adored being home. But she’d grown attached to Alice.
“Uncle James, why can’t Alice stay forever?”
“She’s a friend, not really my wife.”
“But can’t she live with us?”
“No. She’s got her own home, her Gran.”
“We’ll miss her.”
“We will,” James smiled. “She’ll visit.”
Days later, Alice left. Emily moped.
“Cheer up! We’ll start building a new house—no time to mope,” James said.
“Uncle… if Mum comes back, you won’t give me to her?”
“Never. You’re mine now.”
Time passed. James began construction, hoping work would drown his thoughts of Alice. But she lingered in his mind. Emily missed her too, waiting by the gate every Saturday, though Alice rarely came.
“When’s Alice visiting?” Emily whined.
“Dunno. Busy, probably.”
“Let’s visit her!”
“We can’t just turn up uninvited.”
“But you’re her husband! Sort of!”
“Sort of,” he chuckled.
“So we can visit!”
“Alright, tonight.”
Emily dressed up, then returned with a huge bouquet.
“What’s this for?”
“For Alice!”
“Smart lass,” Gran Clara said, joining them. “You two make a lovely pair. Be bolder!”
“She doesn’t want me,” James grumbled.
“Rubbish! She fancies you—any fool can see!”
Blushing, James took the flowers.
Alice was hanging washing when they arrived. Flustered, she ushered them in.
“Dinner’s soon!”
“See? Give her the flowers and propose!” Emily hissed, nudging him.
James flushed crimson, then held out the bouquet.
“Alice, be my wife?”
“We’re already married.”
“My real wife…”
Gran Molly stepped out, beaming.
“About time! This silly girl’s cried enough into her pillow, but swore she wouldn’t come first. Thought you didn’t want her.”
“I do! So much!” Emily shouted. “I made him come! He’d never have thought of it!”
James and Alice locked eyes, laughing.
“Clever girl,” Gran Molly said. “Come help me set the table.”
“Is it true? EmilyAlice smiled through her tears and whispered, “Yes, it’s true—I’ll be your real wife, James, for Emily and for us. “
