No good tale is ever without love.
Eight-year-old Emily walked home from school when an unbearable longing to see her mother seized her. Instead of returning to the house she shared with her father and grandmother, she turned toward the bus stop, waited, and boarded the next coach.
*Why must my mother be like this? Why couldnt she stay with Dad, whos so good to me? True, I did live with her once, but I hated being left alone while she brought that awful Tom home, both of them drunk. Even though life with Dad and Gran is better, I still miss her.*
Emily stepped off the bus and made her way to the cottage where her mother lived. As she walked down the lane, she finally spotted Irene slumped on a bench outside. She was clearly in her cups.
“Oh, love, whereve you come from?” Irene slurred, embracing her.
“Mum, I missed you,” the girl admitted, hugging her back.
They exchanged a few words before Irene asked abruptly, “Emily, you got any money on you?”
“Just enough for the coach back.”
“Thats it? Nothing else? Whatd you come for, then? I need moneydont you get it?”
“But I havent any, Mum,” Emily replied.
“Well, sod off back to your dad, then. Weve seen each otherthats enough. Ill find my own way.” Spotting a woman nearby, Irene stumbled after her without a second glance.
Emily stood in the middle of the lane, watching her mother disappear with a bitter ache in her chest. Only now did she truly understandshe was unwanted. All she had was her father, Thomas, and Gran. Heartbroken, she wandered off the wrong way, mistaking a small grove for a forest, straying deeper as tears blurred her vision. She halted, suddenly realizing she was lost, and burst into fresh sobs.
Thomas and Irene had met at the village hall, where she and her friends from the next hamlet had come to dance. He fancied her straightaway and, after asking her for a dance, never let her go. Irene didnt mind one bit.
All autumn, Thomas rode his motorcycle to her village, and when winter set in, he proposed.
“Ren, lets marry. Im tired of riding back and forth. Youll live at minemy mums kind; youll get on quick.”
She needed no persuading. Shed gone to that dance for just this reasonno decent prospects in her own village.
“Lets, then,” she said simply, and Thomas was over the moon. Hed have a pretty wife, after all.
After the wedding, they settled in his mothers cottage. Margaret welcomed Irene as her own, never a cross word. A year later, little Emily was born, the apple of Margarets eye. For a while, all seemed wellbut soon, Thomas noticed how little motherhood suited his wife.
“Give it time, son,” Margaret reassured him. “Its just the baby blues. Shell come round.”
But when Emily turned three, Irene changed abruptly. She began slipping out to meet friends, returning in no state. The monotony of family life bored her. Thomas hoped shed snap out of it, but things only worsened.
“Im off to Nancys for her birthday,” she announced one evening.
“Course, love,” Thomas agreed, knowing she needed a break.
She didnt return that night. When she stumbled in at dawn, Thomas and Margaret were already at breakfast.
“Oi, whyre you up?” she mumbled drunkenly, then staggered to bed fully dressed, not rising till noon.
Thomas hadnt guessed Irenes fondness for drink ran deep. In her village, everyone knew shed followed her mothers footstepsbut no one had told him, and he hadnt visited since the wedding.
As Emily grew, Irene paid her no mind. Even Thomas began doubting his love for his wifealways soused, always unkempt. One day, she vanished back to her village for a week.
“Daddy, wheres Mummy?” Emily would ask. “I miss her. Bring her back?”
So that weekend, Thomas rode over. She wasnt homeher own mother, just as bad, nodded toward a nearby cottage. “Shes with Tom, in there.”
Inside, a raucous gathering was underway, Irene perched on Toms lap, laughing bawdily.
Spotting Thomas, she scrambled to explain. “Oh, Tommy, love, its not what you thinkgood youre here, Ive missed you…”
For a week afterward, she stayed sober, as if transformed. Thomas wrestled with forgivenessbut for Emilys sake, he relented. He couldnt fathom drinks grip, though. Ten days later, Irene was at it again, worse than ever. She even caused a scene in the yard, shrieking for all to hear:
“Ive had it with the lot of you! You and your bloody mother, always watching me. And Emily? I dont need hershes big enough. Sick of pretending to be a good mum!”
That was the last straw. Thomas knew it was time to save his daughter. Irene fled back to her village, but two weeks later, she returned and snatched Emily while he was out. She shoved Margaret aside without a word and was gone.
The next day, Thomas stormed over. When Irene refused to hand Emily back, he rode straight to the social services in town. Soon after, officials arrived to find Irene passed out drunk beside Tom, while Emily stared bleakly out the window.
They took Emily from her mother and returned her to Thomas. Not long after, he filed for divorce and stripped Irene of her rights. By then, Emily had started school. One evening, Thomas returned from town, calling out as he entered:
“Im home, Mumstarving! Emily, look what Ive got for you…”
Margaret laid the table while Emily dashed out, throwing her arms around her father, who swung her laughing into the air. Margaret watched her son closely until he smiled and nodded. Only then did she relax, pulling treats from the pantry as Thomas teased,
“Mum, not all at oncewell burst!”
But she fussed, thinking: *Thirty-three, and already saddled with raising a child alone.* Later, when Emily had scampered off, she asked quietly,
“Howd it go, son? Whatd Irenes solicitor say?”
Thomas scoffed. “What could he say? Even he was shocked. Irene showed up drunk, barely coherent. The judge didnt hesitateEmily stays with me. Shes lost her rights.”
“Aye, and good riddance. What could a drunk like her offer a child?”
Emily thrived with her father and gran, though she sometimes thought of her motherrarely. Margaret knew a girl needed her mumbut not a mother like that.
Agatha, at twenty-six, loved the outdoors and often wandered the woods alone, foraging for mushrooms and berries. Shed been lost a few times, even spent nights in the forest, but fear never took her. Her grandfather, George, a retired forester, had taught her to build shelters and always carry matches.
One September afternoon, she set out, lost in thought as mushrooms lured her deeper. When she realized shed strayed again, she shrugged.
“Right, best rest. Maybe someones lookingI did tell Mum I was foraging.”
The air grew chilly as the sun dippedthank goodness for her jumper and old coat. She lit a fire, muttering,
“Hope it doesnt rain,” when a rustle made her turn.
A little girl stood there, tear-streaked and shiveringfrom cold or fear, she couldnt tell.
“Whore you?” Agatha asked.
“E-Emily,” she hiccuped. “Im lost…”
“None of that now, tears wont help. Where dyou live?” Agatha stripped off her jumper and wrapped it around her.
Once the fire blazed, Emily told her everything.
“Dad and Gran must be searchingthey dont know I went to Mum…”
“Dont fret. Im lost too. Which village is your mum in?”
Agatha got her bearingsthey were far from her own hamlet. How had she wandered so far?
“Right, its getting dark. Well set off at first light.” Exhausted, they dozed off, but at dawn, Agatha heard a faint hum.
“Emily, listenthats the road! I know where we are now…”
At last, they reached the tarmac. Meanwhile, Thomas had raised the alarm, even dragging the constable to Irenesbut she barely recalled Emilys visit, let alone where shed gone. Thomas nearly struck her before the constable held him back.
“Not worth it, mate.”
Agatha and Emily trudged along the verge when a car screeched to a halt.
“Daddy!” Emily shrieked, sprinting to him while Agatha stayed put. “Thats Agathashe saved me!”
Thomas, still furious, snapped, “Whore you? Whered you get my daughter?”
“Daddy, dont! She found me in the woods!”
“Rightwere seeing the constable.”
“So much for helping,” Agatha muttered, climbing in stiffly.
By the time they left the station, the sun was high. Thomas, ashamed of his outburst, said gruffly,
“Ill drive you homebut first, come to ours. Grans beside herself, and you both need a proper meal.”
“I shouldnt impose…”
“*Im* the one who ought to apologize, Agatha. I was out of line.”
She smiled faintlyEmily had already shared their story. And somehow, she knew this meeting with Thomas wouldnt be their last. She liked him. He liked her. And as all good tales goit ended in love.
Sure enough, six months later, Thomas and Agatha married. No one was happier than Emily.
