“Serves you right, Mum…”
“Mum, your phones ringing again,” called Matthew from behind Emily.
“Who is it?” Emily turned to look at her son.
“Dunno,” he shrugged.
“Could you bring it to me, love?”
“Just a sec!” Matthew dashed off but was back in a flash, shoving her phone into her hands.
“Ta. Go on, play. Dinnerll be ready soon,” Emily said. He scampered off, and she glanced at the screen.
The same number againthe hospital. Howd they even get her number? Emily slid a lid over the frying pan and turned off the hob. Then she switched off her phone and tucked it behind the curtain on the windowsill.
As she set the table, her mind kept circling back to the calls. Later, she went to find her husband. Oliver was at the computer. Emily crept up behind him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rested her chin on his head.
“Whatre you up to?”
“Just scrolling. Dinner soon?” he asked.
“All done. Matthew, dinner!” Emily called, straightening up. “Make sure he washes his hands,” she told Oliver, turning to leave, but he caught her wrist.
“Hold on. Who was calling?”
“No idea. Unknown numberdidnt answer. Werent you starving?” She pulled free and headed to the kitchen.
After dinner, she turned her phone back on. Too late for anyone to ring now.
That night, sleep wouldnt come. Why had she answered the first time?
“Hello, this is… the hospital. Your mothers with us in the ward… Could you come in? There are things to discuss…”
“Sorry, but I dont have a mother,” Emily replied before hanging up. Theyd rung non-stop after that, but shed ignored it. “Might as well go. They wont stop otherwise. Last thing I need is them turning up here. Wish shed just died…” Emily had buried her mother long ago in her heart.
The next day, she worked till lunch, then headed to the hospital. When she stepped into the ward managers office and said shed been asked to come, the man in the white coat looked up from his paperwork.
“Finally. Your name?”
“Emily.”
“And your middle name?”
“Just Emily,” she said flatly.
“Emily, why havent you visited your mother? Were discharging her, but youve ignored every call. Thats not right.”
“I told youI dont have a mother,” she repeated, irritation creeping in.
“And who is Margaret Anne Wilkinson to you, then?”
The doctor studied her. It took all Emilys willpower not to snap that shed never heard of her. But he wouldnt drop it.
“Howd you get my number?” she countered.
“From her phone. You were saved as Emily, my daughter.”
“And howd she even have it?”
“Youd have to ask herif she could speak.” The doctor spread his hands.
“She cant talk?”
“No speech, no movement, paralysis after a stroke. Didnt you know? How could you not, Emily?”
“Serves her right.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. Like they say, drunk words are sober thoughts…
“Excuse me? Did I hear that right?” The doctor narrowed his eyes.
Emily met his gaze squarely. “Yes. You heard right. She dumped me, left me at a childrens home… No, worse. She handed me to some distant relative and vanished. That woman dumped me in care. Twenty years without a wordmy mothers been dead to me. Hows that for a story, Doctor?”
His expression softened. “Thats between you and her. But we cant keep her here. If you wont take her in… Am I clear?”
“Perfectly.”
“Then well have to transfer her to a care home for the disabled. Youre her only relative, so we needed”
“Ill sign whatever,” Emily cut in. She hadnt dared hope itd be this straightforward.
“Dont rush. Theres a catch. She needs round-the-clock carecant eat, move, nothing. State homes might refuse her. Private ones will take her, but its pricey.”
“Were a hospital, not a care agency. Family handles this. Think it over… Can you cover her fees?”
“I already said no,” Emily repeated. “What if I didnt exist? Whod sort it then?”
“Social services. Fine, well send her paperwork, but we need your consent. Someone has to guarantee payment”
“Can I go?” Emily stayed rooted by the door.
The doctor stood, handed her a business card. “Contact details here. Your mothers in Ward Four.”
Walking down the corridor, Emily wrestled with herself. Part of her wanted to bolt; another part wanted to see her mothers punishment firsthand.
She nudged open the ward door. Three women lay in beds, all around the same age. Two stared blankly; the third sleptor pretended to. Emily took a step toward her, then spun on her heel and left.
Shed glimpsed her mother six months ago but barely recognised her nowfrail, aged. A flicker of pity rose, but Emily crushed it.
All the way home, she agonised. “Shes still my mother, not a stranger. Leaving her like this is cruel. But after twenty years of silence? Why should I care? She abandoned me. Let them deal with her. But then… what does that make me? And if Oliver finds out? Hed never understand. His parents are decent. Hed hate me for this.”
The doctor had given her social services number. Every day before or after work, shed slip away to file paperwork. They warned her there might be a court casejust get it over with.
“Whats up with you? Youve been miles away for days. Something eating at you?” Oliver asked one evening.
“Just knackered from work,” Emily murmured, leaning into him. Thank God for him. She couldnt lose him. Shed do what she had tonot for her mother, but for herself, for Oliver, for them.
***
Once, Emily had a father and mother. Their faces had blurred with time, but theyd existed. She couldnt separate memory from imagination now. Her mother worked late often; the shouting matches with her dad were crystal clear. Little Emily would wait up, pretending to sleep, only to jerk awake at their screams.
Then one day, her mother didnt take her to nursery. Instead, she left her with a scowling woman Emily had never met. When her mother walked out, Emily wailed, but shed said, “Ill be back soon.” She never returned. The woman called the policea missing relative whod dumped a child on her. Emily ended up in care.
For years, she waited. Eventually, she stopped. Care wasnt a picnic. Just before leaving, she begged the matron for the womans address and went to see her.
The woman spat out the truth: Her mother had gotten pregnant by someone, then quickly married another man. After Emily was born, her “dad” suspected the truthhence the fights. When her mother started straying, he kicked them both out.
His details were on filehe was technically her father. But Emily had no interest in seeing him. He was nothing to her.
After care, she trained as a hairdresser, lived in a dingy hostel, then got a grim little flat. She met Oliver when he walked into the salon. He fancied the slim, pretty girl who cut his hair. They dated. When he proposed, Emily refused outright. “Your parentsll never let you marry a care leaver.”
Oliver lied smoothly: “Her dad was an engineer, her mum a doctor. They died in a crashthats why she was in care.” Half-truths.
“Lyings wrong. What if they find out?” Emily protested.
“They wont. Its barely a fib,” hed said, unfazed.
They married. Her mother-in-law welcomed her warmly. For once, life was kinda husband, a son, Matthew. Then her mother reappeared. Shed called out to Emily in the street outside Matthews nursery.
“Youve got the wrong person. Dont come near me again, or Ill call the police,” Emily had said.
She hadnt seen her sinceor her mother had hidden well. But the peace was shattered. Emily knew shed be back.
***
Emily couldnt forgive her. Twenty years of silencehow could she? Now her mother lay helpless. The easiest thing would be to walk away. But Oliver… Oliver wouldnt understand. Hed preach about duty, about blood. His mother was lovelyhe didnt get it. No, he mustnt find out.
Pity barely flickered in her. Her mother deserved this. And yet… Emily went to church, confessed to the vicar. He
