**A Trip to the Seaside**
“Emily, I won’t allow it, do you hear? You’re only eighteen. You don’t understand—” Olivia kept raising her voice. They’d been arguing for hours.
“It’s *you* who doesn’t understand. Everyone’s going, and as usual, I can’t,” Emily stood her ground stubbornly.
“Who’s *everyone*? Your friend Sophie? Her mum lets her get away with anything—” Olivia cut herself off, realising she’d gone too far. “Listen, love…”
“Did *you* listen when I said I didn’t want you marrying James? Oh, right—a child’s opinion doesn’t matter. You ignored me and did what you wanted. You said you wanted to be happy. And *are* you, Mum? I’m not a child anymore. I’m an adult. I want to be happy too. I’m going, whether you like it or not. And don’t worry—I don’t need your money.” Tears of frustration shone in Emily’s eyes.
“I *do* want you to be happy. Genuinely happy. But you could make a mistake you’ll regret forever. Just think, Emily. Down there, you’ll be completely dependent on this Daniel. Are you sure about him? You’ve only just met him. There’ll be no one around if—”
“Relax, I won’t come back pregnant,” Emily scoffed.
“We’re not hearing each other.” Exhausted, Olivia sank onto the sofa.
She was tired of justifying herself. Her husband had left her with three-year-old Emily, a pittance in child support, and vanished. When she met James, she never imagined she’d love or trust a man again. For years, he’d tried to be Emily’s father, her friend. And still, she refused to accept him.
Olivia remembered how her daughter had bristled when James first visited. After he left, Emily had asked, “Is he moving in with us?”
“Yes. Do you mind?”
“Does it matter? You’ll do what you want anyway,” twelve-year-old Emily had snorted.
Olivia had tried to explain that James was a good man, that she’d see it soon.
“You just don’t know him yet. You’ll like him, I promise.”
“Your daughter’s jealous,” her best friend had said. “Don’t let her dictate your life. Before you know it, she’ll be grown, married off, and you’ll be alone. A man like James doesn’t come along often. Don’t choose between him and Emily. Give it time—it’ll work itself out.”
Olivia had tried not to neglect her daughter. But she hadn’t managed it well. She was drawn to James, while Emily constantly fought for her attention. She was torn in two. Realising her mother no longer belonged to her entirely, Emily had withdrawn. And now—this. They couldn’t hear each other anymore.
Now Emily was punishing her. Daniel seemed pleasant, well-mannered, from a good family. Olivia had nothing against him. But letting her daughter go away with him to the coast…
When a man meets his girlfriend’s parents, he always puts on his best face. What was he *really* like? People only showed the tip of the iceberg—what lay beneath the polished surface?
Perhaps it was easier for the boy’s parents. Olivia only had Emily. They’d never really been apart. And now she wanted to go off with some lad. Of course there’d be wine. Of course there’d be sex. Olivia had raised her alone, terrified of losing her. Naturally, she struggled to accept that her daughter was grown, that she had a boyfriend, a life of her own.
But she couldn’t keep her tethered. James thought they should let her go. The girl wasn’t stupid—she’d figure things out. When Olivia muttered that if Emily were *his* daughter, he wouldn’t be so quick to let her run off with some boy, James had flushed but stayed silent. Of course he wouldn’t have. Olivia was grateful he hadn’t argued—hadn’t stoked the fight. He’d stepped back, leaving mother and daughter to resolve it themselves.
Fine. She’d have to accept it and hope for the best.
Should she have given up James? Ignored her own happiness, devoted herself entirely to Emily? But how could she ignore herself when she was barely thirty and still longed for love?
Now it was her daughter who wanted happiness. Who wouldn’t listen. What could she do? It was easy to judge, to give advice—until it was your own child. Then reason vanished beneath a mother’s love and fear. Every mother wanted to shield her child from mistakes. But maybe *that* was the real mistake.
Olivia sighed, weary from the mental tug-of-war, and entered Emily’s room. Her daughter sat cross-legged on the bed, glued to her phone. *”Complaining to Daniel,”* Olivia guessed.
“I’m tired of fighting. Of course I’m afraid for you—I want to protect you. You’re only eighteen… Go. Just promise you’ll call, that you won’t switch off your phone so I can reach you.”
Emily looked up, surprised. Clearly, she hadn’t expected surrender.
“Okay,” she said flatly.
*”A year ago, she’d have hugged me, called me ‘Mummy.’ Now it’s like she’s doing me a favour just by keeping her phone on.”* Olivia wanted to say more but held back, sighed, and left. *”Let her go. At least we won’t part as enemies.”*
In the kitchen, Olivia tried to steady herself.
“Can I take the blue suitcase?” Emily poked her head in.
“Of course. When are you leaving?”
“Tonight. I *told* you.”
Had she? Tonight? So soon. She hadn’t even adjusted to the idea of letting her daughter go. *”God, why am I just sitting here—”* Olivia sprang up, grabbed some emergency cash, and handed it to Emily.
“Take this. Keep it to yourself—don’t tell Daniel. If you want to come home, you can buy a ticket anytime.”
“Thanks.” Emily took the money, the ghost of a smile touching her lips. “Daniel’s picking me up. Please don’t see me off, alright?” she added, softer now.
Olivia nodded and left. *”Thank God we’ve made peace, at least.”*
“I thought there’d be fireworks. So you’re letting her go?” James entered, and Olivia hugged him.
“I’m so glad you’re here. Oh, James, I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I’m terrified.”
“Relax. She’ll be fine. She’s a clever girl.”
Daniel arrived at half ten.
“You’re responsible for her. Call me—understood?” Olivia fought back tears. She didn’t want to let her go. For a second, she thought she saw doubt flicker in Emily’s eyes—but it vanished just as fast.
“Ready?” Emily said briskly, eager to end the drawn-out goodbye. Daniel took the suitcase.
“Don’t worry. I’ll bring her back safe and sound.”
The door closed behind them. Olivia rushed to the kitchen window. James rested his hands on her shoulders.
“They’ve got into a taxi. God, keep her safe…”
“Let’s have some tea,” James said.
***
In the taxi, Daniel slung an arm around Emily, pulling her close to kiss her.
“Stop it!” She shoved him away, shooting a glare at the driver’s back.
Daniel straightened up but kept his arm around her.
Maybe she shouldn’t have fought with her mum. She could still back out, go home. But then the taxi stopped, and in climbed Jake and Sophie. The car filled with noise and laughter, and Emily’s doubts evaporated. In a few hours, they’d be in Brighton, by the sea…
They booked two hotel rooms. Emily had assumed they’d pair off, but nerves prickled as Daniel immediately pulled her towards the bed.
“We were going to the beach—” she started, but his touch made her forget. The sea could wait.
Later, they ate at a café. The boys and Sophie ordered beers; Emily refused. The heat made her desperate to swim.
The days flew by. Emily tanned, her skin glowing. She called or texted her mother—*”The sea’s warm as milk. We’re on the beach all day. Don’t worry. Love you!”*—and sent photos where she looked genuinely happy. Olivia pored over them, soothing herself momentarily.
One day, the boys rented a boat, boasting about it over lunch.
“Seriously? We’re going out to sea? We might see dolphins? Amazing!” Emily beamed.
But at the marina, the “boat” was a dinghy. The owner, a sun-leathered local, tensed as Jake’s rucksack clinked with bottles.
“You’re drinking *again*?” Emily frowned.
“It’s just beer,” Daniel said forAs Emily stood on the shore, watching the waves, she finally understood that some mistakes were worth making—but coming home was never one of them.
