Daisy became a cleaner and, in her employers bedroom, stumbled upon a framed photograph of her mother.
Daisy had just been hired as a housekeeper in London and was heading to her first job. It was a grand townhouse in Kensington, but something startled herin the study, a photograph of her mother sat framed on the mantelpiece. Then a man walked in.
“Ill do a spotless job,” Daisy muttered to herself for courage. She and her best friend, Poppy, had moved to London only days earlier, chasing their dream of performing in the West End.
But first, they needed work to afford rent. Luckily, Poppy had landed a job in a boutique, and Daisy had signed up with a cleaning agency.
It was perfectit wasnt too time-consuming, and she enjoyed cleaning because it soothed her. If the house was empty, she could even practise singing.
Yet, just before stepping inside, her mothers face flashed in her mind. Her mother, Eleanor, had hated the idea of her chasing such dreams, let alone living in London.
Daisy had grown up in Oxfordnot terribly farwithout a father. Eleanor had never spoken a word about him. For reasons unknown, she despised London and had smothered Daisy her entire life, driving her to run away.
When she and Poppy planned their escape, Daisy knew Eleanor would never allow it. She half-expected her to fake an illness just to keep her home. But Daisy had to fight for her dreamsit was her life. So she left a note on her mothers dressing table while she slept and slipped away.
Days had passed with no word from Eleanor, which was odd. Daisy assumed she was just furious. Maybe shed forgive her once Daisy made her West End debut. For now, she had to focus on cleaning this house.
According to the agency, an older man lived here alone, so it wouldnt be too messy. Daisy let herself in with the key hidden under the doormat, as instructed, and got to workfirst the kitchen, then the lounge, before moving toward the bedroom.
She hesitated at the threshold of a solemn-looking study, but there were no rules against entering. She decided not to disturb the desk and kept cleaning.
A grand fireplace dominated the room, with a mantel above, and towering bookshelves lined the opposite wall. It was the sort of study Daisy had only seen in films.
She tidied swiftly but froze at the fireplace. Several photos sat there, but one caught her eyeher mothers face. She looked at least eighteen years younger, but it was unmistakably her. “Why is my mothers picture in this mans house?” she whispered.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded, and an older man entered. “Ah, hello! You must be the new cleaner. Im Geoffrey Hartwell, the owner,” he introduced himself warmly. “Nearly finished in here?”
“Almost, sir. Butmay I ask something?” Daisy hesitated, fearing she might upset him. “Who is this woman?”
“Who?” He squinted, adjusting his glasses. “Ah, yes. Thats Eleanor. She was the love of my life.”
Daisys pulse spiked. “What happened?” she blurted.
“She died in a coach crash. She was pregnant at the time. I couldnt even attend the funeralher mother loathed me. It was unbearable… I tried to move on but never could. To this day, I love her. I miss her,” Geoffrey said, removing his glasses before sitting heavily.
“Sir, Im sorry for prying, but… this woman looks exactly like my mother. Its uncanny,” Daisy admitted.
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, my mother, Eleanor, is the spitting image of her. Shes older now, but the resemblance is staggering. Im 98% sure its her,” Daisy said, turning to face Geoffrey.
“Eleanor? Your mothers name is Eleanor? Where did you grow up?”
“Oxford,” she replied, shrugging. Then her eyes widenedif this was Eleanor, then this man could be her father.
Geoffrey covered his mouth. “This cant be…” he murmured. “May I have your mothers number?”
“Of course,” she said, rattling it off.
“Would you stay while I call?” he asked. Daisy nodded.
He dialled on the study phone, and after a few rings, her mothers voice answered. “Hello? Daisy, is that you?”
Geoffrey glanced at Daisy, then spoke. “Am I speaking to Eleanor Whitmore?”
“Yes. Whos calling?” Eleanors tone sharpened.
“Eleanor, its Geoffrey.” His voice shook.
“Geoffrey who? Wait… Geoffrey Hartwell? What do you want after all these years?” Eleanor snapped, her voice suddenly brittle.
Daisy and Geoffrey exchanged baffled looks, but he pressed on. “What do you mean, after all these years? I thought you were dead!”
“What?”
Geoffrey explained the supposed crash, how hed lost his fiancée and unborn child, how Eleanors mother had barred him from the funeral and cut him off entirely. But Eleanor had no idea what he was talking aboutshe told her side.
“My mother told me you called and said you wanted nothing more to do with me. So I raised my daughter alone,” Eleanor revealed, leaving Daisy stunned.
“Thats not true… Eleanor, Id never have left you. I never moved on. I thought of you every day. I grieved you. I suffered for youfor our childfor nearly twenty years,” Geoffrey said. Eleanor fell silent.
“I cant believe Mum would do that. But it sounds like her. I dont know what to do now,” Eleanor finally said. “Waithow did you find out Im alive?”
“Mum, Im here,” Daisy cut in. She hastily explained everything and reassured her she was fine in London.
“I cant believe this is happening. And I cant even ask my mother why shed do such a thingshes been dead for years. Anyway, when are you coming home, Daisy?” Eleanors voice turned stern.
“Im not coming back until I make it in the West End. And now… well, Ive got another reason to stay,” Daisy said, flashing Geoffrey a small smile.
“Fine. But Im coming to London soon,” Eleanor said before hanging up. Geoffrey and Daisy stared at each other in silence.
“So… I suppose youre my dad,” Daisy said brightly. He burst out laughing, and the tension shattered.
Whats the lesson here?
Let your children chase their dreams. Daisy ran away because of her mothers suffocation. Guide them, but let them live their own lives.
Some parents dont always act in your best
