Eight-year-old Emily walked home from school when an unbearable longing to see her mother, who lived in the next village, washed over her. Instead of heading to the house she shared with her father and grandmother, she turned toward the bus stop, waited, and boarded the next one.
“Why is Mum like this?” she wondered. “She didnt stay with Dad, and hes so kind. I did live with her once, but I hated being left alone while she brought that bloke Tony home, both of them drunk. Even though Dad and Gran are lovely, I still miss her.”
Emily stepped off the bus and walked toward her mothers house. As she turned the corner, she spotted Lisa slumped on a bench outside, clearly intoxicated.
“Oh, love, whered you come from?” Lisa slurred, pulling her into a clumsy hug.
“Mum, I missed you,” Emily admitted, clinging to her.
They exchanged a few words before Lisas tone sharpened. “Emily, you got any money on you?”
“Only enough for the bus home.”
“Thats it? What goods that? I need cashdont you get it?”
“But I dont have any,” Emily whispered.
“Then bugger off back to your dad. Weve said our hellosthats enough.” Spotting a woman down the street, Lisa staggered after her without a second glance.
Emily stood frozen, heart aching with bitter hurt. Only now did she truly understandher mother didnt want her. She had only Dad, James, and Gran. Blinded by tears, she wandered the wrong way, mistaking a small grove for the woods, stumbling deeper until she realizedshe was lost. Panic set in, and she sobbed harder.
James and Lisa had met at the village hall, where shed come with friends from the next town over for a dance. Hed been smitten at once, whisking her onto the floor and never letting go. Lisa hadnt minded.
All autumn, James rode his motorbike to her village. When winter came, he proposed. “Lisa, lets get married. Im sick of this back-and-forth. Move in with meMums kind; youll get on with her.”
She didnt need persuading. Shed come to his village for this very reasonno decent prospects in hers. “Alright then,” she said simply, and James was overjoyed. A pretty wifewhat more could a man want?
After the wedding, they lived with his mother, Margaret, who treated Lisa like her own. A year later, little Emily arrived, Margarets adored granddaughter. For a while, all was welluntil James noticed Lisa chafing under motherhood.
“Give it time, son,” Margaret reassured. “Its just the baby blues. Shell settle.”
But when Emily turned three, Lisa changed. Nights out with friends, coming home drunk. The monotony of family life bored her. James clung to hope shed snap out of it, but things worsened.
“Im off to Nancys birthday,” she announced one evening.
“Course, love,” James agreed, knowing she needed space.
She didnt return till morning, stumbling in as James and Margaret ate breakfast. “Oh, youre up?” she slurred, collapsing onto the bed fully dressed, asleep till noon.
James never guessed Lisa had a drinking problem. In her village, everyone knew shed followed her mothers footstepsbut no one told him.
Emily grew up largely ignored by her mother. Doubt crept into Jamess heartdid he even love Lisa anymore? Then one day, she vanished to her own village for a week.
“Dad, wheres Mum?” Emily asked. “I miss her. Bring her home?”
That weekend, James drove over. Lisa wasnt homeher own mother pointed next door. “Shes round Tonys.”
Inside, a rowdy group was drinking. Lisa sat on Tonys lap, laughing raucously. Spotting James, she scrambled up. “Oh, Jamie, its not what it looks like! Glad youre heremissed you!”
For a week, Lisa stayed sober, almost like her old self. James wrestled with forgivenessbut ten days later, she was drunk again, screaming in the yard: “Im sick of you lot! You, your mum, even EmilyIm done pretending!”
That was the end. James knew he had to save Emily. Lisa left, but returned weeks later, shoving Margaret aside and snatching Emily while James was out.
The next day, he stormed to her village. Lisa refused to hand Emily over, so he went to social services. When they arrived, they found Lisa passed out drunk beside Tony, Emily staring blankly out the window.
Emily was returned to James. He filed for divorce and stripped Lisa of parental rights.
One evening, James came home to find Margaret setting the table. Emily sprinted into his arms as he lifted her, spinning her with a laugh. Margaret watched tensely until he noddedthen she relaxed, pulling treats from the fridge.
“Mum, well burst!” he chuckled.
But Margaret fretted. At thirty-three, her son carried the weight of raising a girl alone. Later, she asked, “Howd it go in court?”
“What could her lawyer say?” James scoffed. “Lisa showed up drunk, barely coherent. The judge didnt hesitateEmily stays with me.”
“Aye, shes lost her rights. What kind of mothers always pickled?”
Emily thrived with James and Margaret, seldom mentioning Lisa. Margaret knew a child needs her motherbut not one like that.
Agatha, twenty-six, loved the woods, often foraging alone for mushrooms and berries. Shed gotten lost before but never feared ither grandfather, George, a retired forester, had taught her to build shelters, light fires.
One September afternoon, she wandered deep into the trees, distracted by a bounty of mushrooms. Only at dusk did she realizeshe was lost again.
“Right, best make camp,” she muttered, gathering branches. The air grew chilly, but her old jumper and jacket kept her warm. She lit a fire, listening for rainwhen a twig snapped behind her.
A small girl stood there, trembling, face streaked with tears.
“Whore you?” Agatha asked.
“Im Emilyyy,” she wailed, “Im looost!”
“None of that now,” Agatha said firmly, draping her jumper over the girl. By the fire, Emily spilled her story.
“My dad and Gran must be looking for methey dont know I went to Mums”
“Which village?” Agatha asked. Recognizing the name, she guessed their rough locationmiles from home.
At dawn, they followed the distant hum of traffic until they reached a road.
Meanwhile, James had rallied the village, even confronting Lisawho barely recalled Emilys visit. He nearly struck her before the constable stopped him.
Agatha and Emily walked the roadside until a car screeched to a halt.
“Dad!” Emily shrieked, darting forward.
James glared at Agatha. “Who the hell are you? Whered you get my daughter?”
“Dad, dont! She saved me!”
Grudgingly, he took them to the constable. Afterward, shamefaced, he muttered, “Let me drive you home. Andsorry I snapped.”
Agatha smiled. Shed pieced together his story from Emilys chatterand sensed this meeting wouldnt be their last.
She was right. Six months later, James and Agatha married. Emily was over the moon.
Every good story, after all, needs love.
