22December
Tonight the winter light has settled over the rows of terraced houses on the high street, the streetlamps flickering on as the sun slips away. I sit by the window of my little flat in York, thinking about the strange turn my life has taken.
I have a roof over my head, a steady job as an ambulance technician with the NHS, a cosy flat that I keep tidy, and a handful of fourlegged companions who fill the silence. Yet, when I glance at my phone and see the empty messages, Im reminded that none of my school friends have settled down, married, or started families. All of them have partners and children, while I remain, for the moment, a solitary wanderer.
It feels as if Im destined to wander through life as the perpetual old maid. I try not to let that sting, especially when I watch my fluffy friendsBullet the spirited Jack Russell, Molly the shy Dachshund, and the regal cat Ive named Lady Eleanorcurl up around me, their soft purrs and wagging tails a comfort I cant quite explain.
My parents died young, one after the other, and I was raised by my grandmother, Margaret, who always dreamed Id become a doctor. I failed to get into medical school, so I ended up at a twoyear emergency care course and now spend my days racing to emergencies in a red ambulance. Grandmother moved into a suburban house years ago, hoping I might find a partner and a stable life, but Ive still been unlucky in love.
When I was a child I longed for a cat and a dog, but Mum was allergic to fur. The day I brought home a trembling kitten, my mothers asthma flared up, and the kittenwhom I called Biscuithad to be taken to Grandmothers care. Later, after my parents passed, a scruffy stray I named Tish appeared near a rubbish dump. I wanted a dog too, but Grandmother feared the responsibility and turned me down.
Now my household is a small brigade of loyal animals. Bullet was found shivering beside the frozen supermarket doors, a gaunt pup trying to slip inside for warmth. I scooped him up in my coat and took him home. Hes a whirlwind, darting around like a fighter jet, which earned him his nickname. He got on well with Tish straight away.
Soon after, a tiny dachshund called Molly was abandoned by her owners when they moved to a new flat. They left her in the cold courtyard, hoping she wouldnt damage their pristine new décor. I found her whimpering by the back door, ears frostbitten, and took her in. Shes become the calm, sensible matriarch of the pack, always careful of her cold ears, and I knit her a warm scarf that makes her look like a miniature, stern governess marching down the lane.
One early morning, hurrying to my night shift, I saw a snowslick block roll toward my feet. It turned out to be a frantic, frostbitten cat that had lost its way. I slipped it inside, gave it two cheeseandham sandwiches, and left a note on the fridge: Please dont chase the cat away Ill collect it after my shift. Emily, Flat15. I named her Lady Eleanor, after my own middle name, and she took to the title with regal poise. She now patrols the flat, insisting on order, even checking the hallway at night like a tiny, dignified landlady.
Later, while walking through the park, I rescued a tiny kitten, Misha, from a pair of crows. He grew up shy and polite, never squabbling, and got along with the rest of the crew.
I often wonder whether any man could truly accept such a noisy, furry household. Grandmother warns me:
Dear Emily, youve got two dogs and three cats already. Not everyone would be keen to move into a flat that sounds like a zoo.
I retorted, Then he isnt the one for me, Gran.
And indeed, I have tried a few relationships. I dated Alex, a fellow paramedic, for six months, but he cant stand animals. After we split, I felt a strange relief.
Then came James, a charming regional swimming champion who seemed perfect. He helped walk Bullet and Molly, and we talked about marriage. Yet, my pets sensed something off. Bullet snapped at him, Molly hid behind me and barked, and Lady Eleanor hissed whenever he tried to pet her. One evening, while I was cooking, I stepped onto the balcony and watched James, his face twisted in anger, kick Molly after she accidentally stepped in mud on his pristine sneakers. Bullet leapt to protect the little dog, only to be yanked harshly by his leather leash. I ran down, snatched the leash from his smiling face, and, with a shaking hand, slapped his wrist.
Emily, what are you doing? It hurts! he shouted.
I replied, If it hurts you, why do you keep hurting my animals?
He laughed cruelly, Ill be out of here. No one wants to live in a menagerie!
His words echoed in my mind for days. I had convinced myself that James was my destiny, that wed build a life together, but his façade crumbled.
A year later, almost resigned to solitude, I genuinely fell for someoneDrAlexander Harper, a trauma surgeon on night duty. The first time we met in the A&E, his steady eyes met mine, and a spark Id only ever read about in novels ignited. He called me later, we started seeing each other, and his quiet, earnest nature made me feel safe.
I kept my animal family a secret, fearing hed leave once he saw the chaos. After six months, he introduced me to his sister, Sophie, and her husband, and we drove his modest sedan to the countryside to meet his parents. I visited his tidy bachelor flat, but my excuses about visiting relatives and catching the flu grew thin. I knew I had to decide: come clean or keep lying.
One afternoon, I gathered Bullet, Molly, Tish, Lady Eleanor, and the rest, and took them to Grandmothers house. She frowned:
Emily, you cant do this. Alexander is respectable, and youre beginning with a lie.
I pleaded, I cant live without them, Gran. What else can I do?
She sighed, Fine, but youll need to see him every day, not just when youre home.
Alexanders suspicions faded once he saw the animals, and he eventually proposed, presenting a simple amethystshaped ring. I laughed, I dont have a dowry, but I have a lot of love.
We filed the paperwork, and the wedding day loomed, a whirlwind of dressshopping, restaurant bookings, and jewelers. After my night shift, I called Grandmother, promising to return by evening to pick up my wedding dress.
That night, while we were both exhausted, Alexander tried to toss away an empty box, but it fell open, spilling cat and dog food packets.
Where did that come from? he asked.
Never mind, I brushed it off, steering the conversation elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Grandmother let Bullet and Molly out into the fresh snow. A postwoman with a pension bag hurried past, and the animals seized the moment, dashing through the drifts while I chased after them. The neighbours stared at the peculiar paradeBullet leading, Lady Eleanor keeping the line, Mollys scarf flapping like a banner.
When Alexander heard the commotion at my door, he opened it to find the whole furry brigade standing there, snow dusted on their fur and tails.
What on earth is this? he muttered.
I flinched, covering my face with my hands, tears welling up.
Yes, theyre all mine, I whispered.
Bullet and Molly began to nuzzle his legs, while Lady Eleanor gave a warning hiss.
Didnt you say you had no dowry? he said, halfsmiling.
He put on his coat, got into his car, and drove off. I called Grandmother to soothe her, not wanting her to feel upset.
Later, the wedding fell apart. I hugged my animals, feeling the weight of my own deceit. The emptiness inside grew, my cheeks swollen from crying.
A few hours later, there was a knock at the door. Alexander stood there, arms loaded with expensive pet food and a grin.
Dont lock the door, Im coming in, he said.
He stepped inside, holding a dachshund in a bright red coat.
This is my dog Nika, and thats Marry, he announced, pulling out a ginger cat from under his jacket. Will you let them join your team?
Years have passed since that chaotic winter. I, Emily Harcourt, and Alexander Harper still laugh about the whole mess. Who knows what would have happened if I hadnt tried to hide my furry family? Perhaps we would have taken a different path, but at least weve learned that love, in any form, isnt something you can silence with a leash.
