The Call That Changed Everything
Emma stood by the window, peering into the dark outline of the garden.
“Bloody lights are out again. It’s already ten, and Sophies not back. If only she knew how worried I am. Shes only fourteen, for heavens sake. And yet, she twists her father round her little finger like a proper grown-up, and he just hands her money whenever she asks.”
The gate slammed, and familiar footsteps echoed through the alley. “Sophie!” Emma brightened, stepping back from the windowGod forbid her daughter saw her watching, or thered be hell to pay.
“Mum, Im home!” Sophie yelled from the doorway.
“Got anything to eat?”
“Not even a hello?” Emma tried to kiss her daughters cheek, but Sophie dodged, diving into her room instead.
“Im starving! And I havent got time for this!”
“Where on earth are you rushing off to at this hour? Its past ten,” Emma said, bracing herself for another row.
“Oh, here we go again,” Sophie muttered loud enough for her to hear. “Im practically fifteen, I can do what I want!” She yanked clothes from the wardrobe, tossing them onto the floor in search of the right dress.
Emma watched helplessly. *What do I even say? How do I stop her?*
“What are you gawping at?” Sophie shrieked. “Im going clubbing with the girls. Its Halloween! Everyones out, why shouldnt I be?” She pulled out a skimpy red dress with a plunging back.
“Sophie, where did you get *that*? Its… inappropriate. Do you even know the sort of girls who wear things like that?”
“Dont care, dont want to know! Got it on sale for Halloween. Dad gave me the money.” She fished out towering red heels. “Brilliant, right?” She strutted past Emma, swaying her hips. “Joshll lose his mind when he sees me.”
“Youre not going,” Emma said quietly.
*”What?* Who died and made you boss? What right do you even havelook at you! Youre a mess! Dad left you, and no ones bothered picking up the scraps since!”
“A mess,” Sophie repeated, savouring the cruelty.
Emma snapped. The slap rang out sharp before she stormed out, slamming the door behind her as Sophies wails erupted.
“You *witch!* I *hate* you! Just you wait!” her daughter screamed like a wounded animal.
Emma locked herself in the bathroom, splashing icy water on her face. She caught her reflection*A mess? Ive got a good job, a nice flat, and Im not exactly hard on the eyes. But with Sophie… God, its like shes been possessed since she turned twelve. Backchat, sneaking fagseverything I say, she throws back in my face. Went to the vicar, and he says its pride. Maybe. But what do I do? Counsellor gave advice, but none of it works. Every day, we just get worse. Like Im her enemy, not her mum. If only she knew how much I love her. How it *kills* me to see her like this. And now Ive hit her… What do I even do now?*
She cracked the door openSophie was ranting on the phone. *”Joshll be there. I promised him…”*
*Josh. Proper little frog he was in Year 1. Now? Reckon half the girls fancy him. Course he likes my Sophie. Who wouldnt?*
Emma sighed, deadbolted the front door, and hid the keys. *Shes not going out tonight. Not a chance. Josh can wait. And Halloweens just… dodgy, if you ask me.* She tiptoed past Sophies room, but her daughter flung the door open.
“Ill *never* forgive you! Ill sue you!” Sophies face twisted with hate. “Ill jump out the window if I have to! Hes *waiting* for me! I promised!”
“If Josh really cares, hell wait however long it takes,” Emma said gently, searching her daughters face. *My poor girl. How do I fix this?*
“Whatre you staring at, you old hag?” Sophie spat. “Ill call Dadhell take me himself!”
“Go on, then,” Emma said. “But youre not leaving. The doors locked.”
Sophie went eerily calm. “Fine. Youll regret this.”
Emma heard the shoes clatter to the floor, then hushed, gleeful whispers. *No need for Halloween. Its already here.* She wiped her tears, took a sleeping pill, and hoped tomorrow would hurt less.
***
The alarm blared. Shaking off sleep, Emma washed up and started breakfast. Arguments never lasted with herSophie usually cooled off by morning.
Not this time. Her daughter marched past the table, stone-faced, grabbed her birth certificate, and left.
All day, Emma shoved the fight from her mind. But leaving work, it swallowed her whole. *Hows Sophie? Has she forgiven me? What do I say? Do I apologise for hitting her? But God, the things she said… My hearts been rubbish lately. Maybe well have tea, make up. Just have to wait it out.*
Relieved, she stopped at the bakery for Sophies favourite éclairs.
“Sweetheart! I got your cakes! Truce?” No answer. The kitchen was empty. The untouched sandwiches from breakfast sat on the counter.
*Better a bad peace than a good quarrel,* she thought, dialling Sophies numberwhen her own phone rang. Unknown caller.
“Emma Whitmore?” A cold female voice. “Valerie Carter, Social Services. Your daughters filed a complaint of abuse. Weve removed her from school.”
*”What?*” Emmas blood froze.
“Shes now in temporary care pending court proceedings.”
*”Court?*”
“To terminate your parental rights.”
*”Mine?* On what grounds?”
“You struck your child. Are you sober?”
“How *dare* you!” Emmas chest tightened.
“We *dare* when parents break the law. See you in court.”
“Where *is* she? Give me the address!” The line went dead.
***
After hanging up, Valerie headed to the group home. Sophie lounged on the bed, bingeing telly.
“Brought you something,” Valerie said, tossing her a Snickers. “Compensation for emotional distress. Dont worryshell pay.”
“What happens to mums like her?” Sophie muted the show.
“They lose their kids.”
“Good! Who hits their own kid?” Sophie jutted her chin. “She wouldnt let me go clubbing. Josh was *waiting*. Called my dress trash. And shes a total loserthats why Dad left. Never even married her. *Pathetic.*”
Valerie said nothing. Her own husband had left when she couldnt conceivethanks to an abortion years ago. This job was her redemption.
***
Emma scrambled for help. A friend recommended a solicitor.
“Dangerous case,” he said wearily. “If theyve got witnesses, youll lose.”
“What do I do?”
“Fight. But I dont come cheap.”
“Ill get the money.”
She called Sophies father.
“You brought this on yourself,” he said. “Shouldve let her go. Josh was there.”
“Its a *nightclub*! Alcohol, drugswhat if something happened?”
“Dont be daft. They let anyone in with cash*my* cash.”
“Then help me! Pay the solicitor!”
“Why would I? Margot and Ill take Sophie once youre unfit.”
“Margots *twenty-two*!”
“Better than a mother who hits her.” Click.
***
Heart hammering, Emma took out a loanextortionate interest, but she had no choice. She hired the solicitor.
***
A week in care, Sophie was bored. The new school drove past her old house. Once, she spotted Emmapale, tear-streaked, broken. Guilt flickered, then died.
Neighbours testified: *”The girl often cried. Emma staggered home drunk.”* (Shed only been exhausted.)
Josh cut her off. “Betray your mum, youll betray me.”
Court day came. Emma swayed, gripping her chest.
*”Drunk already,”* the neighbours whispered.
Two hours later, it was over. The judge sided with Social Services. “Emma Whitmore is stripped of parental rights. Child maintenance ordered…”
Emma collapsed. The ambulance came too late.
***
Valerie brought Sophie persimmons that evening. “You won. Youll move to a childrens home.”
*”What?* No! I want *Mum!*”
“You
