**Diary Entry 12th March**
*”Thats what you get, Mum…”*
“Mum, someones calling you again,” Matthews voice came from behind Emily.
“Who is it?” Emily turned her head toward her son.
“Dunno.” He shrugged.
“Fetch me the phone, love?”
“Just a sec!” Matthew shouted, darting off before returning moments later to shove her mobile into her hand.
“Ta. Go on, play. Dinners nearly ready,” she said. As he scampered off, she glanced at the screen.
Again. The same numberSt. Marys Hospital. Howd they even get her number? She placed a lid over the frying pan, turned off the hob, then powered down the phone and tucked it behind the curtains on the windowsill.
Setting the table, her mind lingered on the calls. Later, she found her husband, James, at his computer. She crept up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin atop his head.
“Whatre you doing?”
“Just scrolling. Dinner soon?”
“Done. Matthew, dinner!” Emily called, straightening up. “Make sure he washes his hands,” she told James, moving toward the kitchen when he caught her wrist.
“Hold on. Who called?”
“No idea. Unknown numberdidnt answer. Thought you were hungry?” She pulled free and left.
After dinner, she switched the phone back on. Too late for calls now.
Sleep didnt come easily that night. Why had she answered the first time?
*”This is St. Marys Hospital. Your mothers been admitted Could you come in? We need to discuss her care”*
“Sorry, but I dont have a mother,” Emily had snapped, hanging up. Theyd rung relentlessly since. *”Might as well go. If I dont, theyll turn up here. Better if shed just died”* Long ago, Emily had buried her mother in her heart.
The next day, after her shift, she drove to the hospital. The ward manager looked up sharply as she entered.
“Finally. Your name?”
“Emily.”
“Middle name?”
“Just Emily,” she said flatly.
“Youve not visited once. Were discharging her, yet you ignore our calls. Not right, that.”
“I told youI dont have a mother,” she repeated, irritation flaring.
“And who is Margaret Anne Whitmore to you?”
The doctor studied her. Emily bit back the urge to deny knowing the woman. Pointlesshed persist.
“Howd you get my number?”
“From her phone. Saved as Emily, my girl.”
“Howd *she* have it?”
“Ask herwhen she regains speech.” He spread his hands.
“She cant talk?”
“Paralysed after a stroke. Didnt you know? How could you, Emily”
“Serves her right.” The words slipped out. Liquid truth, as they say.
“Pardon?” The doctors eyes narrowed.
Emily held his gaze. “You heard me. She dumped me at a relatives and vanished. That relative dumped me in care. Twenty years, no wordshe was dead to me. Hows that, Doctor?”
His expression softened. “Your business, not mine. No point keeping her here. If you refuse to take her?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then well transfer her to a care home. Youre next of kin, so”
“Ill sign whatever.” Relief flickeredtoo easy.
“Wait. Private homes cost. She needs round-the-clock care. Can you cover it?”
“I said no.” Emily edged toward the door.
He handed her a card. “Room four. Think it over.”
In the corridor, war raged within her. Part wanted to flee; part wanted to gloat.
She pushed the door open. Three women lay in beds. Two stared blankly; the thirds eyes were shut. Emily stepped closerthen spun on her heel and left.
Shed glimpsed her mother months ago, aged and withered. Pity stirred, but she smothered it.
On the drive home, doubts plagued her. *”Shes still my mother. But she left mewould she have cared if Id suffered? Why should I? But if James finds out Hed hate me. His parents embraced me. I owe them”*
For days, she visited social services, filing paperwork. A court might intervene, but shed endure it.
“Youve been distant,” James said one evening. “Whats eating you?”
“Just tired.” She leaned into him. *Thank God for him.* Shed do thisnot for her mother, but for herself, for James
***
Once, Emily had parents. Their faces blurred now, but theyd existed. Mum worked late; rows erupted. Little Emily would pretend to sleep, sometimes waking to shouts.
Then one day, Mum took her to a stern womans house. “Wait here,” shed said, leaving. She never returned. The woman called the police. Emily wound up in care.
Years later, she tracked the woman down. The truth spilled out: Mum had gotten pregnant, trapped a man into marriage. Hed thrown them out when he suspected Emily wasnt his. Mum had abandoned her.
After care, Emily trained as a hairdresser, met James at the salon. Hed lied to his parents about her past”orphaned by a crash”to secure their blessing.
Married now, with Matthew, life was sweet. Until her mother reappeared outside his nursery.
“Youve mistaken me. Dont come back,” Emily had hissed. But peace was shattered.
***
Forgiveness? Impossible. Yet leaving her mother to rot felt wrong. James would lecture about dutyhis parents were decent. Hed never understand.
The vicar advised honesty: *”Bitterness will consume you. Do what you can.”*
A modest care home was found. Emily topped up Mums pension, hiding the costs by working extra.
One evening, leaving the church, a hand gripped her shoulderJames.
“Whyre you here?”
“Following you. Knew you were hiding something.”
She confessed everything.
“You daft thing,” he murmured, holding her. “I thought you were cheating. All those calls, the secrecy”
“And?”
“You did right. Id not have been so kind.” He kissed her forehead. “Just dont lie to me again.”
**Lesson:** Secrets fester. Love isnt earnedits given. And sometimes, the hardest mercy is the only one left.
