“KIDS THESE DAYS,” Leon muttered to himself as he slowed the car, spotting two young girls frantically waving their hands by the roadside. He hadn’t driven through this part of the countryside in years—no reason to. The place felt out of the way, like a dead end, with nothing beyond it but rolling hills.
“Where you headed?” he called out the window.
“To Yarley, please!” The girls couldn’t have been more than 13 or 14—tight jeans, hoodies, messy blonde fringes, and wide, trusting eyes.
“That’s not exactly round the corner. But fine, hop in—I’m going that way.”
As soon as they settled in, Leon launched into a lecture—he always liked schooling people. “You’re too young to be hitchhiking. You don’t know me, yet here you are in my car.”
“Mister, there’s no bus! We went to town and had to hitch back. Got this far, now we’re hitching again.”
“Should’ve waited for the bus,” Leon grumbled, turning to glance at one of them—big blue eyes, so naive, so sure everyone was honest.
“Where are your parents, letting you out like this?”
“It’s our first time! We can tell you’re nice.”
“Little fools,” he muttered, though the childish praise warmed him. “Fine, I am nice. But don’t go getting in cars with strangers. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He could’ve dropped them at the roadside—the village was barely a mile off. But feeling oddly responsible, he drove on.
“We don’t have much money,” one girl fretted. “Just drop us here, we’ll walk.”
“None of that. I’ll take you proper.”
He left Lily on the first street, but Millie lived further in. Leon almost wished he’d seen Lily’s parents—he’d have given them an earful about letting her wander alone.
“That’s our house,” Millie pointed, eyes bright as if she’d been gone for weeks, not hours. “I’ll fetch you some money!”
“Keep it. Just bring me some water. Parents home?”
“Should be.” The gate swung open before she finished. A woman in a headscarf and muddy clothes—straight from the garden—marched over.
“What’s this? Why weren’t you on the bus?”
“Exactly what I said,” Leon cut in. “Two girls thumbing rides—it’s risky. Don’t let them roam alone, even if it’s just down the road.”
“They always take the bus to town,” the woman defended weakly. “Thank you…” Her voice trailed off as Leon removed his cap. No mistaking it now—Leon Grady stood before her. They’d grown up in the same village, once.
“Leon? Bloody hell, is that you?” She tugged off her scarf, staring.
“Yeah. And you’re… Vera? Blimey, hardly recognised you.”
“Same to you—going bald a bit early, aren’t you?”
Leon flushed. “This your girl, then?”
“She is, Leon. She is.” Vera turned to Millie. “Inside, love. Lunch is on.”
The girl shot Leon a curious look before disappearing.
“Course she’s mine. Didn’t abandon her like you did.”
Leon stiffened. “Now hold on—we talked, that’s all. Never knew for sure—”
“Never knew?” Vera scoffed. “You said it was my problem. So we left. Simple as that.”
Leon faltered. “Still a shock. Just gave her a lift—how was I to know? How old is she?”
“Fourteen. Didn’t notice? She’s got your eyes.”
Leon’s jaw clenched. “What d’you want from me?”
“Nothing. Didn’t beg then, won’t now. Just thought you should know.”
“Right. I’m off.” He slid into the car, but Vera rapped on the window.
“Forgot to say—thanks for bringing her home. Proper decent of you. Funny how life works, isn’t it? Out of nowhere, after all these years… Still, cheers. Guess even a deadbeat dad’s good for something once.” She stepped back, waving.
Leon had no reply. He drove off, cursing himself for freezing up. Rumours had reached him—Vera kept the kid. He’d pretended it wasn’t his business.
His own life flashed by. Comfortable, his wife running two shops, him helping out. No kids of their own, just her lad from a first marriage. Too busy for more, she always said. He sighed, remembering Millie’s eyes—his eyes.
Maybe he’d visit someday. The thought vanished as quick as it came—Vera’s sharp tone, his wife’s iron rule at home. The same fear from fourteen years ago crept back.
____________________
“Who was that?” Michael stepped from the garden, frowning at the unfamiliar car. “Millie riding with strangers now? Millie, get out here!”
“Dad, I won’t do it again! It was just me and Lily, and the man was nice—”
Michael wiped his brow. “You don’t scare us like that. Your little brother looks up to you—set an example. Buses or with us, full stop.”
Vera pulled him aside. “No hiding it—that was her father. Her real one. Just happened to be passing, gave them a lift.”
“And he knows?”
“Knows now. Figured he should.”
Michael exhaled sharply. “Millie’s got my name. I’ve been there for everything—school, nursery, parents’ evenings. Now he turns up?”
“Relax. He’s a coward. Won’t come sniffing round. Might feel guilty—might not. Should we tell her?”
Michael sank onto the bench. “She knows she’s adopted. Doubt it’ll change how she sees me. I trust her.”
Millie burst outside, hugging them both. “Missed you!”
“Been a day,” Michael laughed.
“Swear I did!”
“Believe you, love.” He squeezed her tight, smiling.
