“Please, give me back my son. I’ll give you anything you want,” whispered Nadine, her voice barely hanging on.
“He won’t disappear, your father. He’s only forty-three. You think he’ll mourn your mother forever? Not a chance. Statistics say there are more single women than men. Some lonely woman is bound to snap him up sooner or later. So let’s go to London—don’t get in the way of him rebuilding his life. Or do you want him to be alone till his dying day?”
They lived in a small town just outside London. When the girls were in Year 11, Nadine’s mother was hit by a car. She and her father were shattered by the loss. The household chores fell to Nadine, but she managed it all—keeping up with school and scoring high on her A-levels.
Alice had always dreamed of leaving their small town for London and kept urging Nadine to come with her.
“Dad’s still grieving. He hasn’t accepted Mum’s death yet. And if I leave too? No, I won’t abandon him,” Nadine refused.
“Please, he’ll be fine. He’s only forty-three. Do you think he’ll spend the rest of his life grieving? Hardly. Trust me, some single woman will snatch him up soon. Come to London—don’t stand in his way. Or do you want him to grow old alone?”
Alice’s callous words about her father stung, but they weren’t entirely wrong. So Nadine finally spoke to him.
“Go, love. Don’t worry about me. London’s not far—it’s not like you’re moving to Scotland. If it doesn’t work out, you can always come back. What’s here for you anyway?”
So Nadine left for London with Alice. She could’ve gone to university—her grades were good—but Alice’s marks were mediocre, and uni wasn’t an option for her. Not wanting to leave her friend behind, Nadine enrolled with her at a teaching college. She could always do a part-time degree later while working. They shared a room in the dorm.
At first, Nadine went home every weekend. But after New Year’s, she noticed a change in her father—he was livelier, better groomed, and there was soup and meatballs in the fridge. Had he cooked all that himself?
Flustered, he admitted their neighbour, Sarah, had made it for him—and, well… Nadine reassured him, saying she understood and was glad he had someone. She guessed Sarah stayed away when she visited.
“Don’t be silly. Live together—I don’t mind.”
She visited less often, not wanting to intrude.
Alice was indifferent to her studies, skipping classes to party with boys, sometimes not even coming back at night. Nadine covered for her, helping her with coursework.
“Are you giving up on studying? You’ll get kicked out—or worse, end up pregnant. Is that what you want?” Nadine tried to reason with her.
“You sound like my mum. Relax. I’ve got it under control. No kids for me. Still holding hands with your Michael?” Alice laughed.
She barely scraped through her second-year summer exams—thanks to Nadine. Lately, she’d been distant, like something was weighing on her.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Nadine asked on the train home.
“What’s wrong? I’m pregnant,” Alice admitted.
“I warned you. What are you going to do?” Nadine gasped.
“I’m not keeping it. Ask your dad for money—for the clinic. My mum would kill me if she knew,” Alice pleaded.
“Are you mad? You said you had it under control!” Nadine hissed.
“Keep your voice down. A couple of slip-ups. You know how it is. So, will you ask him?”
“No. That could ruin you. Tell the father—make him step up.”
Alice bit her lip.
“I did. He bolted. My mum raised me alone—always warned me not to repeat her mistakes. And now…” She turned to the window.
“She’ll yell, sure, but once she sees her grandchild, she’ll soften,” Nadine said firmly.
“You don’t know my mum. She’ll disown me first. Nadine, please—help me?”
“Fine. I’ll try,” she sighed.
Her dad would’ve given the money. But Nadine couldn’t bring herself to ask—she couldn’t condone it. Maybe motherhood would grow on Alice in time. The baby was due in spring—just a few months left of college. She’d help Alice. She’d thank her later for stopping her.
She told Alice she hadn’t asked.
“Some friend you are,” Alice spat.
But she didn’t go through with it. Their town was too small—word would’ve reached her mum. By September, it was too late.
At Christmas, Alice didn’t go home—her bump was too obvious. But her mum turned up unexpectedly, as if sensing trouble. Alice hid in another room, leaving Nadine to cover.
Nadine lied smoothly: Alice was working at a children’s home, gaining experience. Her mother was frantic.
“They won’t let visitors in. She can’t leave the children,” Nadine lied, blushing.
Her mum sighed, left a bag of treats, and left.
“Why? She’s still your mother. She brought all this for you. The truth would’ve been easier—she’d yell, then get over it.”
“Yeah? You don’t know her. She’d have killed me if she saw this belly. I just want it over with. I’ll leave it at the hospital. What would I do with a baby?” Alice muttered.
“Should’ve thought of that sooner. How can you say that? He can hear you.”
“Take him yourself if you’re so noble,” Alice snapped. “Saint Nadine, always so perfect.”
One February night, Nadine woke to Alice groaning in pain.
“Is it time?” She called an ambulance.
“Hawthorne, listen—no babies in the dorm,” the warden barked as Alice stumbled out.
Three days later, Alice returned alone.
“Where’s the baby? You left him there? How could you?” Nadine cried.
“Leave me alone. I’m done.” Alice turned to the wall.
A week later, she packed and left while Nadine was in class. She called, but Alice just laughed—she was fine. Nadine could keep being perfect. They never spoke again.
After college, Nadine returned home with her son. Her dad lived with Sarah now, renting out her flat. When Nadine came back, they ended the lease and gave it to her. Close, but separate.
Four years passed.
Nadine worked at a nursery to stay near William. One snowy afternoon, she scolded him for jumping in drifts.
“Nadine! Is that you?” a familiar voice called.
The glamorous woman in the fur coat was Alice. A man stood beside her.
Nadine froze.
“Not happy to see me? It’s me, Alice.”
“You’re hard to recognise. Visiting your mum?” She gripped William’s hand.
“Yeah. This is my husband, Simon. Your son?” Alice smirked. “Michael talked you into it after all?”
“It’s freezing. William’s soaked—we need to go.” She hurried him away.
The encounter terrified her. That evening, her phone rang.
“Tell me the truth—is he mine? You adopted him?” Alice’s voice was tense.
“Where did you get that idea? He’s mine,” Nadine lied badly.
“You were always rubbish at lying. He looks just like his father.”
“You’re wrong. He’s mine.”
“Meet me tomorrow. Five o’clock. The café.”
She had no choice. Alice would corner her at home otherwise.
“You destroyed my life,” Alice hissed over tea. “I lost three pregnancies. Simon wants a child. His daughter’s sick—his ex left him. But William’s healthy. Clever eyes…”
“You think your husband will take another man’s child?”
Alice flinched. “He’ll love him. He wants a son.”
“I won’t give him up!” Nadine bolted.
“We’ll see,” Alice called after her.
A week later, William vanished. The nursery handed him to a “sister.” Nadine raced to the police.
“She’s his mother—what’s the fuss?” the officer yawned.
“She abandoned him! Now she’s stolen him!”
After days of hell, Alice called.
“Give him back!” Nadine screamed.
“You ruined me. Simon made me call—he’ll leave me if I don’t return him.”
“Where is he?”
“Come alone.”
At the café, William ran into her arms. Her father had grabbed Alice.
“Let her go,” Nadine said. “She’s punished herself enough.”
Alice shrieked, “He’s mine!”
But Nadine just held William tight.
Women’s friendship ends when they can’tBut as Nadine held her son close, she realized that love, not blood, had made her his true mother and that no one could ever take him from her again.
