**Diary Entry**
Stanley Andrews, or Stan to his mates, had just been promoted to head of department at a big firm in Manchester. The promotion was well-earned—he was a hard worker, quiet, always on time. He never pushed for leadership, but he got there steadily. Congratulations at the office were low-key; Stan gave a small smile, thanked everyone, and promised to prove they’d made the right choice.
No one was prouder than his mum, Margaret. She’d been the one dragging him to doctors as a boy, hiring tutors, buying winter coats, and saving from her pension to pay for his university. She insisted he bring homemade treats for his colleagues—pies, salads, finger food. Though Stan hesitated at first, he agreed in the end. He couldn’t let her down.
On the day of the celebration, he drove to his mum’s flat to pick up the food. She’d left everything neatly packed in the fridge, as she had a cardiologist appointment. During his lunch break, Stan decided not to haul it all alone and asked the new girl at work, Emily, to come along and help. She agreed without a fuss.
Emily, blonde and blue-eyed, was the kind of woman people noticed. Around the office, whispers followed her—some said she’d set her sights on Stan, always flirting, smiling, asking for lifts home.
They stepped into his mum’s flat—modest but tidy and cosy. Stan opened the fridge and began loading containers into a bag. Emily perched on a stool, glancing around.
“Your mum’s place is lovely… really homely. Oh, who’s this?”
A little black dog trotted out from the bedroom and growled at the stranger.
“That’s Binky,” Stan said, scooping her up. “Don’t worry, she’s friendly.”
“Binky? What a name,” Emily grimaced. “Keep her away—she’ll ruin my tights.”
Stan fell quiet. The distaste on her face stung. But there was more—an elegant black cat sauntered in and rubbed against his legs.
“And this is Tabs,” Stan said softly, pulling a dish of fish from the fridge. “Here you go, love.”
Emily edged toward the door.
“Bit of a menagerie, isn’t it? A cat *and* a dog in such a small flat? It can’t be hygienic… all the fur, the smell. Your mum’s not allergic, is she?”
“Are *you*?” Stan asked quietly.
“Me? No… I don’t know. We never had pets. Not a fan, really. They’re messy.”
Stan kept packing the food without another word. His smile had vanished. Emily hovered by the door, swatting Binky away as the dog sniffed her shoes.
“I’ll come by later to walk them,” Stan finally said. “Mum’ll scold me for overfeeding them, but how can I say no?”
“Wasting time on animals… Well, someone’s got to, I suppose,” Emily muttered, halfway out the door.
On the way back, she chattered about the new canteen menu, Vera from HR’s awful skirt, the accountant marrying for the third time. Stan walked in silence, nodding now and then. His head buzzed with one thought: *Empty. Fake. Wrong.*
Back at the office, colleagues handed him a thermos, clapped his shoulder, poured drinks. After hours, they set out the spread—ate too much, drank a little. Emily hovered—jokes, lingering looks, hints about needing a lift home. But Stan just said,
“Sorry, I’ve got plans.”
His mum was waiting when he got back.
“How’d it go?” she asked, smiling as she opened the door.
“Great, Mum. Your pies vanished first. Said they tasted professional. Barely remembered *me* by the end.”
“And that girl you brought round—Emily? Mrs. next door saw her, said she was stunning. That her?”
“No. Just a colleague. Truth is, there’s no one. I lied before, to make you happy. Sorry.”
“Ah well. But if there *were* someone… what would she be like?”
Stan thought for a moment.
“Kind. Clever. Down-to-earth. And… she’d love you. And Tabs. And Binky.”
His mum chuckled.
“Stanley, love, if she loves *you*, she’ll take the rest of us. Even the moody old cat.”
He nodded, grabbed the lead, whistled for the pair of them, and headed out. The three of them raced across the yard like they were kids again—Mum at home, a jam tart in his pocket, a pup in his arms, a cat on his shoulder, and the whole world ahead.
Mum watched from the window, knuckles pressed to her lips.
“Thirty, a department head, still a boy at heart. God grant you real love, son… and may she take all of you at once. Tabs. Binky. *And* your mum.”
**Lesson:** A woman who doesn’t love the things you love will never truly love *you*. And a home isn’t just four walls—it’s who’s waiting inside.
