Traitors Ill never let back in, the echo murmured through the fogfilled hallway of the old maternity ward on the outskirts of London.
Wheres Vicky? I cant see Vicky anywhere! Where has she vanished? a bewildered whisper rose from the crowd of relatives crowding the stairs, their faces blurred like smeared ink.
If Vicky had been Victor, the father of the newborn, the murmurs would have been far quieter, but Vicky was the shortened form of Victoria, a woman. The fact that Victoria herself had simply slipped away, leaving no cradle, no folded envelope holding her tiny daughter, was a rift in the dreams fabric.
Shes fled! That wretched thing! cried Mrs. Margaret, Victorias mother, as she handed her soninlaw Ian, clutching the infant Lily, the last paperwork and a torn farewell letter from the runaway wife.
The letter read like a photocopied script from countless other departures:
Im not ready for this, dont look for me, I wont abandon my daughter, Ill send maintenance, thats all I can do.
No return address, no explanation of why a respectable woman, who half a year ago had been dreaming of motherhood, would now dissolve like mist.
Ian, dont worry. Her mind will settle, shell see sense, shell come back, soothed Margaret, trying to steady the shaking soninlaw.
Sarah, the elder sister, said nothing; an inner voice whispered that Vicky would not return. When Victoria chose to abandon, she chose it with full knowledgeany wild act she performed was deliberate. If she threw herself away, she would also pick up the pieces.
Dont be such a fool, Sarah, snapped Margaret when her daughter tentatively hinted that Victoria might never come back. Shell be back. A month, two months, and shell remember the mothers heart.
Three months later divorce papers arrived. Victoria never set foot in the court, she renounced custody, and little Lily stayed with her father. Sarah began visiting Ians flat more often, helping with Lily and chatting with Ian himself. Their bond grew because Sarah, too, had been left by a loverthough not in the same hallway, but a year after her son Edwards birth.
They had planned to marry once Edward turned three and Sarah finished her maternity leave. Then Max, Sarahs former fiancé, fled, leaving her drowning in debts. At least the court confirmed his paternity, and Sarah scraped together what alimony she could.
She feared that Ian would someday abandon his own sister, leaving her with a child. She scoured Ians behavior for warning signs, never voicing her doubts to anyone. In the end she realized shed been looking at the wrong man.
It turned out Victoria had never been forced to bear a child; shed wanted it. Ian, on the other hand, had suggested waiting five years to save enough money to turn their cramped twobedroom flat into a threebedroom haven, but Vicky pushed him, hurried him.
And so the result: Vicky dropped Lilytiny, defenseless, craving a motherinto the world. Perhaps the fact that Sarah herself had become a mother, or the strange kinship that Lily was bloodrelated yet felt like Sarahs own, made her accept the child as her own.
Ian, too, slipped his hand a few times, handing Lily to Sarah with a sigh, Take her to mum, hold her tight. He even proposed that Sarah move in with him and Lily, saying the flat had room, and she could rent out rooms to cover the mortgage instead of begging her own mother.
When Margaret learned Sarah had moved in with Ian, she launched a verbal tirade. To eye your sisters husband is sinful and improper, she declared, but Ian shrugged her off, That isnt my concern. Later, halfdrunk, he confessed hed be willing to marry Sarah and even claim her son as his own.
Everything will be fair, Sarah. You raise my daughter as yours, Ill consider your boy mine. I wont force you into a bedroom; decide yourself, he slurred. I can earn money, but I dont know how to handle nappies, doctor visits, soup for colds. You manage children well, even if you never earn a big salary. Before maternity you were a nursery teacher in a private preschool, not a fortunemaker.
Ians proposal felt pragmatic, almost cold. Sarah thought of the ethereal love shed once read about in novelsnothing more than a fleeting sparkle compared to the solid happiness of her son. Perhaps it was time to be practical. Ian was kind, didnt drink, didnt smoke, always helped with money, and Lily had, after two years, started calling her Mum.
Maybe everything that happens, even the strange, ends for the best.
Margaret never attended the weddingno one waited for her anyway. They signed the register, drank a shot with close friends, heard wishes for happiness, and returned to Ians flat where four of them already lived. Life changed little, except now the children shared one room while the adults occupied another.
Sarah and Ian were still people, entitled to their own slice of joy.
The sudden appearance of Victoria was like thunder in a clear sky. When Sarah, still dripping from the shower, opened the halfajar nursery door, she saw the doorway framed like a medieval portcullis, through which the children watched the scene like silent statues.
Ian, waiting for a delivery, didnt glance up. From the threshold, his former wife vaulted onto his shoulders.
Darling, Im back! she announced. When Ian brushed her away, pushing her a step back, she fluttered her lashes and, as if nothing had happened, asked, Arent you glad?
I should be glad? Ian replied with a sneer.
Hed rehearsed countless replies to his ex, but when the moment arrived he could only ask why shed come at all.
I want to see my daughter. I also hoped we could sort things out, be a proper family again.
I know I wasnt perfect, but we can fix this, cant we?
No. Ive already found my family, and I wont let traitors back in.
You mean Sarah? You never truly loved her. How could you swap me for her?
Sarah, just out of the shower, noticed the slightly open nursery door, through which the children peered like guards from a fortress wall.
Victoria, spotting the kids, slipped past Ian and lunged toward the little girl.
Lily, my dear, how youve grown! she cooed, lifting the child as a siren wailed, trying to yank Victorias hair.
Leave my sister, witch! the boy, Edward, snarled, biting at her leg.
Only thin stockings and a short skirt clung to her, the pain forcing a shriek that rang like a siren. She dropped Lily on the floor, clutching her wound.
The child ran to her brother, and together they hid behind Sarahs legs. Victoria, eyes glinting with a murderous stare, whispered, You snake youve turned my own daughter against me I wont let this go, understand?
Nothing fell together for the mothers. Victoria had once refused custody, Lily had never known her mother, and her sudden arrival had offered no desire for contact, so every attempt to claim the child failed.
Even Margarets meddling, trying to persuade Ian to make a reverse castle move, proved futile.
In the end, Ian and Sarah cut ties with Victorias mother, moved to another city, leaving no address behind. Now they live happily in a new town, raising three children. Only their closest friends hear Lilys whispered secret: she is the daughter of a true witch, while her mother Sarah is a kind fairy who rescued her and never gave her back.
Edward tells the tale to anyone wholl listen, insisting his father must be a dark sorcerer too, for he abandoned the gentle fairy and ran.
At last, a good father found them, and together they form a happy family of mother, father, little sister, and brother. After all, every fairytale must end well.
