“Emily, please come home, I beg you…”
“Mother, you know I won’t.”
“Emily, darling, I implore youhes very ill…”
“Dont ask. I wont come.”
“I hate him!” Emily flung the telephone across the room in a fury. She stormed to the fridge, wrenched open the door, and grabbed a bottle of gin. Pouring a measure into a glass, she hesitated, then tipped it down the sink. Sinking onto a stool, she buried her face in her hands and wept.
Ten years had passed since she last set foot in her childhood home.
In her final year of school, Emily had fallen in love. Her classmates often sneaked off to dances and university parties nearby, and one evening, swayed by their coaxing, she went along. There, she met *Him*. He played in a band, sang beautifully, and was the son of a diplomat. Girls trailed after him like ducklings, each dreaming of his attention. Emily never understood why he chose *her*. But she loved himrecklessly, blindly. She rushed to meet him, neglecting her studies, skirting chores, lying to her parents just to see him more.
Their brief romance ended with her pregnancy. He began avoiding her, then vanished altogether. Soon after, his mother appeared, offering to arrange for a discreet doctorto *take care of it*. She made it clear: theyd never wanted some wayward girl for their precious son. Emily wasnt *good enough*.
For months, Emily hid the truth. Only when her belly swelled beyond concealment did she confess.
“You shameless little strumpet!” her father bellowed. “Gallivanting about while decent girls study! What disgrace! How am I to face the neighbours? Get out! I wont have you under my roof!”
Her mother wept silently. Shed long surrendered to her husbands tempera domineering, coarse man who brooked no opposition. Her voice had faded years ago.
After the storm of curses, Emily stuffed a few shirts and jeans into a knapsack and left.
At first, she drifted between friends, but none welcomed her for long. Borrowing a few pounds from a schoolmate, she took a train to another townto an aunt shed only heard mentioned in whispers. Her father had barred all ties, even with his wifes sister, so Emily knew nothing of her family beyond his walls.
Arriving, she learned her aunt had married and moved away years prior. No one knew where. Starving, directionless, Emily turned back. Near the station, elderly women sold pastries to travellers. Emily eyed the flaky meat pies, her stomach twisting with hunger. She bent to snatch oneclumsily. The vendor raised a hand to strike, then froze at the sight of Emilys swollen belly.
Between ravenous bites, Emily spilled her story. The womanwidowed, childlesstook her in.
Until the birth, Emily sold pies by the station, dreaming of earning enough to return home, to her fathers forgiveness. Instead, she stayed in that unfamiliar town for ten long years.
She bore a daughter. The vendor became the childs grandmother, minding her while Emily workedfirst scrubbing floors in a shop, then filling in for an ill clerk. She proved capable, rising to head clerk. When the shop was razed for a supermarket, she moved with it, climbing from stock-taker to department manager. Now, she oversaw entire sections, respected, consulted.
Once, after her daughters birth, shed called her mother, hoping to return. But her mother warned against it. Her father had erased her existence.
When her saviour died, leaving Emily the house, she called again. She needed helpher work consumed her, her daughter was often alone. “Mother could escape that tyrant for a while,” Emily reasoned. But again, refusal. After that, silence.
And now, this call.
Ten years shed waited for *”Forgive me. Come home.”* Or simply *”Return, my girl.”* But nowwhy now? What did he want? For her to whisper, *”Sorry, Papa, I was wrong”*?
Time had dulled the hatred, but the ache remainedthe injustice, the unwillingness to *listen*. Shed suffered, swallowing pride, stifling dreams. There were nights she nearly gave up.
Yet look at her now. Respected. Her house stylish, modern. Her daughter at a fine grammar school. A good man had proposed.
“Would I be this strong if he hadnt cast me out?” she wondered. *Forgive. Say goodbye. Forgetfor my sake. For my future.*
Emily rang her office, explained the situation, and began packing.
