Eight-year-old Emily walks home from school when an overwhelming urge to see her mumwho lives in a nearby villagehits her. Instead of heading back to the house she shares with her dad and grandmother, she turns toward the bus stop, waits for the next ride, and hops on.
*Why is Mum like this? Why couldnt she stay with Dad? Hes so good to me. I did live with her once, but I hated how shed leave me alone, bringing that bloke Mark home drunk. Even though Im happy with Dad and Gran, I still miss her sometimes.*
Emily steps off the bus and heads toward her mothers house. As she walks down the street, she spots Karen slumped on a bench outside, clearly not sober.
“Oi, love, whered you come from?” Karen slurs, pulling her into a clumsy hug.
“Mum, I missed you,” Emily admits, hugging her back.
They exchange a few words before Karen cuts in. “Em, you got any money on you?”
“Just enough for the bus back.”
“Thats it? Whatd you come for then? I need cashdont you get it?”
“But I dont have any, Mum,” Emily says quietly.
“Right, off you pop back to your dad then. Had your visit, now clear off. Ill sort myself.” She spots a woman down the road and stumbles after her.
Emily stands in the middle of the pavement, watching her mother leave with a sharp sting of hurt. Only now does she realiseshe doesnt matter to Karen. She only has Dad and Gran. Heart heavy, she wanders the wrong way, mistaking a small grove for the woods, straying further as tears blur her vision. She stops, suddenly aware of the trees closing in, and sobs hardershes lost.
James met Karen at the village hall, where she and her mates from the next village over had come for a dance. He fancied her straightaway, pulling her onto the floor and keeping her close all night. Karen didnt mind one bit.
All autumn, James rode his motorbike over to her village. When winter set in, he asked her to marry him.
“Come on, Karen, lets make it official. Sick of trekking back and forth. Well live at mineMums lovely, youll get on with her no problem,” he coaxed.
She didnt need much convincing. Truth was, shed gone to that dance in his village for a reasonno decent blokes were left in hers.
“Fine, lets do it,” she said simply. James was chuffedhis wife would be a proper looker.
They moved in with his mum after the wedding. His mother, Margaret, treated Karen like her own, never a cross word. A year later, little Emily arrived, Margarets adored granddaughter. For a while, things were gooduntil James noticed Karen wasnt cut out for motherhood.
“Give it time, son,” Margaret reassured him. “Its just the baby blues. Shell come round.”
But Karen changed for good when Emily turned three. She started going out with her mates, coming home plastered. The routine of family life bored her. James held on, hoping shed snap out of itbut it only got worse.
“Im off to Sarahs for her birthday,” she announced one evening.
“Course, love, have fun,” James said, knowing she needed a break.
She didnt come back that night. She stumbled in at breakfast, slurring, “Oh, whatyou lot still up?” before face-planting onto the bed, still in her clothes, and sleeping till noon.
James had no idea Karens drinking was already a habit. Back in her village, everyone knew she was her mothers daughterbut no one told him. He hadnt been back there since the wedding.
Emily grew up with her mother barely involved. James started doubting if he even loved Karen anymorealways drunk, always sloppy, disappearing for days. Once, she vanished back to her village for a week.
“Dad, wheres Mum?” Emily would ask. “I miss her. Where is she?”
“Shes in the village, love.”
“Bring her home, Dad,” her five-year-old voice pleaded.
On his day off, James drove over. Karen wasnt homeher own mother pointed him to a house down the lane. Inside, a rowdy group was drinking, Karen perched on Marks lap, laughing too loud.
Spotting James, she scrambled up. “Oh, Jamie, its not what you thinkthank God youre here, I missed you…”
For a week, Karen stayed soberlike shed been swapped out. James wrestled with whether to forgive her. In the end, he didfor Emilys sake. He didnt understand how strong the drinks grip was. Ten days later, Karen was at it again, worse than ever. She even caused a scene in the street, screaming:
“Im sick of the lot of you! You, your mumalways watching me! And I dont need Emilyshes old enough. Im done pretending to be some perfect mum!”
Drunk words cut deep. For James, it was the end. He had to save Emily from her. Karen stormed off to her village, but two weeks later, she came backsnatched Emily while James was out, shoving Margaret aside when she tried to stop her.
The next day, James went to get his daughter back. Karen screeched, refusing. So he went to social services. When they arrived, they found Karen passed out drunk, cuddled up to MarkEmily staring blankly out the window.
They took Emily away, giving her to James. He filed for divorce and full custody. By then, Emily had started Year One.
Margaret was home with Emily when James returned from court. “Im back, Mumstarving. Em, look what I got you!”
Margaret laid out food while Emily hurled herself at James, giggling as he spun her around. Margaret watched her son, tenseuntil he smiled and nodded. Only then did she relax, pulling treats from the fridge.
“Mum, not all at oncewell burst!” James laughed.
But Margaret fussed, thinking*hes only thirty-three, and now hes raising a daughter alone.*
When Emily dashed off, she asked, “So? What happened with Karens solicitor?”
James smirked. “What could he say? Even he was gobsmacked. Karen turned up blitzed, couldnt string two words together. The judge didnt hesitateEmily stays with me. Karen lost her rights.”
“About time. What kind of mother would she be, always pickled?”
Emily thrived with Dad and Gran. She still thought of her mum sometimesbut less and less. Margaret knew a girl needed her motherbut not *that* kind of mother.
Agatha, twenty-six, loved the outdoorsoften wandering the woods alone, foraging for mushrooms and berries. Shed gotten lost a few times, even spent nights out there. But she wasnt scared. Her grandad, George, had taught her how to build a shelter, always carry matchesjust in case. Hed been a ranger.
That afternoon, Agatha headed into the woods, lost in thought as mushrooms lured her deeper. Early September meant plenty to find. Thenshe realised she was lost again.
“Right, rest first. Build a sheltersomeones probably already looking.” She *had* told her mum she was foraging.
The sun dipped, the air turning chillygood thing shed worn a jumper and an old jacket. She started a fire.
*Please dont rain.*
Thena snap of twigs. She turned.
A little girl stood there, tear-streaked and shiveringfrom cold or fear, who knew?
“Who are you?” Agatha asked.
“Emmmmily,” she wailed, crying again. “Im loooost!”
“Alright, no tearsthey wont help. Where dyou live?” Agatha shrugged off her jumper and wrapped it around her.
By the fire, Emily told her everything.
“Dad and Gran must be lookingthey dont know I went to see Mum…”
“Its fine, Em. Im lost too. Which village is your mum in?”
Emily told her. Agatha pieced it togetherthey were miles from *her* village. How had she wandered this far?
“Right, its dark. Well find the way at first light.”
Exhausted, they sleptsetting off at dawn toward the faint hum of traffic.
“Listen, Emthats the road. I know where we are now…”
At last, they reached the tarmac. Meanwhile, James had torn the village apart searching, even dragged the local bobby to Karensbut she barely remembered Emily visiting, let alone where shed gone. James nearly swung at herthe officer grabbed his arm.
“Dont, mate. Not worth it.”
Agatha and Emily walked hand-in-hand along the roadside when a car screeched to a halt.
“Daddy!” Emily shrieked, sprinting to him. Agatha stayed put. “Thats my dad, Agatha! Thats him!”
Furious, James snapped, “Who the hell are you? Whered you get my kid?”
“Dad, dont shout! She *saved* mefound me in the woods!”
“Fine. Were going to the station.”
*This is what you get for helping,* Agatha thought, climbing silently into the car.
By the time they left the station, the sun was high. James felt rotten for how hed acted.
“Ill drive you home,” he told the pretty stranger. “But firstcome to ours. Grans worried sick, and you must be starving.”
“Bit awkward,” Agatha murmured.
“*Im* the one who should be embarrassed. Sorry, AgathaI was out of line.”
She smiledshe already knew his story from Emily. And she had a feeling this wasnt the end. She liked James. He liked her. And after allwhats a proper story without love?
She was right. Six months later, James and Agatha married. No one was happier than Emily.
