“Why did you even come?” asked the niece, clearing away my untouched dinner.
“Aunt Lydia, can I change the channel?” Before Lydia could answer, Emily snatched the remote and began flicking through programmes. “What rubbish you watch! Goodness, its already nine. I have to be up early.”
Lydia set aside her knitting and studied her niece. She wasnt a girl anymoretwenty-eight, for heavens sakebut in Lydias mind, she was still little Emily, the one whod rush into Grannys cottage every summer, begging, “Aunt Lydia, tell me about the princess!”
“Whats so important tomorrow?” Lydia asked, turning down the telly.
“Oh, just a meeting. Work stuff,” Emily waved a hand, eyes fixed on the screen. “Honestly, your fridge is weird. The milks gone off already.”
“Gone off? I only bought it yesterday!”
“Well, look for yourself!” Emily sprang from the sofa, shuffling in slippers to the kitchen. “See? Disgusting!”
Lydia followed, peering into the milk carton. Curdled. Strangeshed checked the date at the shop.
“Mustve spoiled in the heat. Ill get another”
“Dont bother,” Emily cut in. “I wont have it anyway. Dairy upsets my stomach. Just make a proper cuppa, will you?”
“Of course. Fancy a bite? I fried potatoes, with mushrooms…”
“Aunt Lydia, Im on a diet!” Emily rolled her eyes. “No fried food. And nothing after six.”
“But its nine”
“Exactly! Hence, I dont eat.”
Lydia filled the kettle and fetched a tin of digestives. Emily grimaced at the oat biscuits.
“Cant have those either. Anything without sugar?”
“Theres brown bread,” Lydia offered weakly.
“Carbs. Fine, just tea.”
Back in the sitting room, some American film played. Emily stared blankly. Lydia picked up her knitting but couldnt focus. Emily had arrived that morning, announcing shed stay the night. At first, Lydia had been thrilledEmily hardly visited anymore, always in London with work and whatnot. Now she sat there, silent, as if doing a favour.
“Em,” Lydia ventured, “hows work?”
“Fine,” Emily said, not turning.
“And Daniel? Thought you two were getting married?”
Emily flinched, finally tearing her gaze from the screen.
“We split. Six months ago.”
“Oh, love! What happened?”
“Nothing dramatic. Just… didnt fit. Happens.”
Lydia set her knitting aside. So that was that. Shed been eyeing wedding outfits, imagining the day. Questions bubbled up, but Emilys closed expression stopped her.
“And work? Youre still at that firm, the”
“Left. A month back.”
“Left? But you were there three years!”
“Was. Now Im not. Looking for something else.”
“How dyou manage?”
“Aunt Lydia!” Emily turned sharply. “Must you interrogate me? Im coping, alright?”
“Sorry, pet. I only worry.”
“Dont. Im grown.”
Silence fell. Lydia watched Emily sidelong. Shed grown thin, pale. Eyes dull. Once, shed been all laughter, filling Grannys house with chatter and plans. Now she sat like a stranger.
The kettle whistled. Emily darted up first.
“Ill make it!” she called from the kitchen.
Lydia heard clattering, cupboards banging. Thensudden quiet. She rose to check.
Emily stood by the window, empty mug in hand. Shoulders shaking.
“Em, whats wrong?”
“Nothing,” she sniffed. “Just tired. So tired.”
Lydia hugged her. Emily didnt pull awayinstead, she leaned in, just like she had as a child.
“Out with it, love.”
“Everything,” Emily whispered. “Daniel left because I was ‘too dull.’ Work was hellmy boss loathed me, humiliated me. I quit. Now I cant find anything. Savings are gone. Rents due.”
“Oh, my girl! Why didnt you tell me? Wed sort something!”
“Like what?” Emily wiped her eyes. “Your pensions barely enough. And Im supposed to manage alone.”
“Rubbish! Familys for rough patches!”
Emily gave a bitter laugh.
“What family? Mums busy with her new bloke. Brothersones in Germany, the other in Edinburgh. The rest havent seen me in years.”
“But Im here!”
“You are,” Emily agreed. “But what goods that? Youre barely scraping by.”
Lydia said nothing. True, her pension was meagre. But this wasnt about money. Why had Emily shut everyone out?
They brewed tea, returned to the sofa. Emily calmed, even nibbled a biscuitdiet forgotten.
“Remember,” Lydia said suddenly, “summers at Grannys? Picking strawberries in the woods?”
Emily smiled. “And your fairy tales.”
“Baking pies. You always sneaked raw dough.”
“And Granny scolded, ‘Emilys eaten it all again!'” She laughedproperly, for the first time that evening. “Then shed say, ‘Ah well, Ill mix more for my girl.'”
“She adored you.”
“I adored her. Wish shed lived longer.”
“Me too.”
A quiet moment. Then Emily asked,
“Ever regret not marrying? Not having kids?”
Lydia blinked. “But I was married.”
“Oh, rightUncle Colin. But that was… brief.”
“Three years isnt brief.”
“But no children.”
“No,” Lydia admitted softly. “Wasnt to be.”
“Dont you regret it?”
“Course I do. But life happens.”
Emily frowned. “I wonder if its for the bestDaniel and me. Wed have divorced anyway. He never loved me.”
“How dyou know?”
“Could tell. Always criticising, comparing me. ‘Sophie from the offices so lively.’ ‘Hannah dresses so stylishly.’ Called me boring.”
“The daft sod!” Lydia huffed. “Youre not boring!”
“I am, Aunt Lydia. No talents, no striking looks. Just… ordinary.”
“Whats wrong with ordinary? Most folks are. They get by, find joy.”
“Sometimes I think I shouldnt be here at all.”
Lydias chest tightened. Were things that bad?
“Emily, dont say that! Everyone belongs somewhere.”
“Wheres my ‘somewhere’? Slaving in an office? Dating men who dont value me? Living alone in some flat?”
“Is that so bad? Youre free.”
“What do I want?” Emily mused. “I used to thinkmarry, have kids, like everyone. Now… I dont know.”
Lydias heart ached. Young, healthyyet so lost. At her age, Lydia had been wed (however briefly), full of dreams. Emily seemed to have forgotten how.
“Stay here,” Lydia urged. “As long as you need. Figure things out.”
“And do what? No jobs here.”
“Rest first. Regroup.”
“I cant mooch off you!”
“Mooch? Theres room, theres food. Well manage.”
Emily shook her head.
“No, Ill go tomorrow. Got that job interview.”
“Oh yes, you mentioned. Whats the role?”
“Waitressing. I knowdegree and all. But needs must.”
“Nothing wrong with honest work.”
“Thats what I thought. Just need steady pay.”
They chatted awhile longer. Then Emily yawned, claiming exhaustion. Lydia made up the sofa bed, fetched an extra blanket.
“Aunt Lydia,” Emily murmured, already tucked in, “thanks. For listening. Helped more than you know.”
“Anytime, love. Call if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
Lydia retreated to her room but couldnt sleep. How to help? Little money, no connections. And Emily was proudhated leaning on others.
Morning came. Emily dressed swiftly, skipped breakfast”Nerves,” she claimedand grabbed her bag. Lydia thrust sandwiches into her hands.
“For the journey.”
“Ta.”
At the door, Emily hesitated.
“Why dyou even come here?” she asked, clearing the untouched plates.
Lydia faltered. “You said you were visiting.”
“No, I meanwhyd you move here years ago? You couldve stayed where you were born.”
Lydia paused. An old story, rarely told.
“Came for Mum. She fell ill, had no one. Then… just stayed.”
“And your life? You had work there…”
“Did. But Mum mattered more.”
“No regrets?”
“Plenty. But dutys duty.”
Emily absorbed this.
“So you sacrificed everything. For others.”
“Didnt sacrifice. Lived as I thought right.”
“Were you happy?”
Lydia shrugged.
“Whos to say? Good bits, bad bits. Like anyone.”
“But you couldve stayed. Married properly, had kids…”
“Couldve. Didnt pan out.”
Emily sighed.
“Nothing pans out for me either. Maybe it runs in the familyliving lives we didnt choose.”
“Whose life is ‘ours,’ if not the one were living?”
“Dunno,” Emily admitted. “The one we pick, maybe. Not the one that just… happens.”
“Think anyone truly picks? We muddle through, then call it choice after.”
Emily nodded thoughtfully.
“Suppose youre right. Anywaybest go. Dont want to be late.”
She kissed Lydias cheek and left. Lydia watched her go, hoping desperately shed get the jobnot just for money, but to feel useful again. The girls spirit had frayed so.
That evening, Emily called.
“Aunt Lydia, I got it! Start tomorrow.”
“Brilliant! Hows the boss?”
“Seem decent. Young couple, new café. Said if it goes well, maybe promotion to manager.”
“See? Things look up!”
“Early days. But at least theres wages. Aunt Lydia… can I visit sometimes? Not to stay, just… to see you?”
“Always, love. My doors open.”
“Ta. Its… peaceful here. Feels like home.”
“It is your home, Emily. Always has been.”
After, Lydia sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, pondering life. How swiftly time passed. Emilyonce a bright-eyed girlnow bore wounds of her own. Lydia longed to shield her, but everyone must walk their own path.
Perhaps Emily was rightthey all lived lives not quite their own. Lydia had come for Mum, stayed out of habit. Emily had worked that job, dated Daniel, not by choice but circumstance. Now waitressinganother twist of fate.
But maybe that was life. Not grand plans, but daily actscaring, working, helping. Choice or chance, it hardly mattered. The key was to live honestly, harm none. And that, Lydia thought, was enough.
