**Diary Entry**
Ive just started working as a cleaner, and today, something extraordinary happened. My first job was at a grand townhouse in London, and while dusting the study, I spotted a framed photo of my mother on the mantelpiece. Then the homeowner walked in.
“Just do a proper job,” I muttered to myself for courage. My best mate, Sophie, and I had moved to London only a fortnight ago, chasing our dream of making it big in the West End. But first, we needed work to afford our tiny flat. Sophie landed a job in a boutique, and I signed up with a cleaning agency.
It wasnt badIve always found cleaning soothing. And if the house was empty, I could even practise my singing. But that morning, as I stepped inside, my mums face flashed in my mind. MumEleanorhad hated the idea of me moving to London, let alone becoming an actress.
I grew up in Manchester. Never knew my dad, and Mum refused to speak of him. For some reason, she despised London. Shed smothered me my whole life, which only pushed me to leave. When Sophie and I planned our escape, I knew Mum would never allow it. I even suspected shed fake an illness to stop me. So I left a note on her dressing table while she slept and slipped away.
Days passed without a word from her. Odd, but I assumed she was just furious. Maybe shed forgive me once I made my West End debut. For now, I had a house to clean.
The agency said an older gentleman lived here alone, so it wasnt too messy. I let myself in with the key under the doormat and got to workkitchen first, then the lounge, before moving to the bedrooms. The study gave me pause, but no rules barred me from entering. I avoided disturbing the desk and focused on dusting.
The room was straight out of a filmtall bookshelves, a grand fireplace with photos atop the mantel. Then I froze. One picture was unmistakably my mother, younger by nearly twenty years. “Why is Mums photo in this mans house?” I whispered.
Footsteps. An older man entered. “Ah, hello! You must be the new cleaner. Im Edward Whitmore,” he said warmly. “Nearly done in here?”
“Almost, sir. Butmay I ask something?” I hesitated. “Whos this woman?”
He squinted, then put on his glasses. “Ah. Thats Eleanor. Love of my life.”
My pulse spiked. “What happened?” I blurted.
“She died in a coach crash. She was pregnant at the time. I couldnt even attend the funeralher mother loathed me. I never moved on. Still miss her every day,” Edward said, removing his glasses with a sigh.
“Sir, Im sorry to pry, but… this woman looks exactly like my mother. Its uncanny.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“My mum, Eleanor, is her double. Older, but the likeness is staggering. Im certain its her,” I said, turning to him.
“Eleanor? Your mothers name is Eleanor? Where did you grow up?”
“Manchester,” I said. My eyes widened. If this was Mum, then this man could be
Edward covered his mouth. “It cant be…” he whispered. “May I have her number?”
I gave it to him. “Could you stay while I call?”
He dialled, and after a few rings, Mum answered. “Hello? Caroline, is that you?”
Edward glanced at me. “Is this Eleanor Hart?”
“Yes. Whos calling?” Her voice turned sharp.
“Eleanor, its Edward.”
“Edward who? WaitEdward *Bennett*? What could you possibly want after all these years?”
We exchanged puzzled looks, but he pressed on. “What do you mean? I thought you were *dead*!”
The confusion unravelled. Edward explained how hed been told shed died in the crash, along with their unborn child, and how her mother had barred him from the funeral. But Mum had no idea what he was talking about.
“Mum told me *you* called to say you wanted nothing more to do with me. I raised Caroline alone,” she said.
“Thats a lie,” Edward choked out. “Id never have left you. I grieved you for twenty years.” Silence.
“I cant believe Gran would do that,” Mum finally said. “But it sounds like her. How did you even find out I was alive?”
“Mum, Im here,” I cut in, quickly explaining everything.
“I cant process this. And I cant ask Gran whyshes been gone years. Caroline, when are you coming home?”
“Im not. Not until Ive made it in the West End. And now… Ive got another reason to stay,” I said, smiling at Edward.
“Fine. But Im coming to London soon,” she said before hanging up. Edward and I stared at each other.
“So… I suppose youre my dad,” I said lightly. He laughed, and the tension broke.
**Lesson learned:** Let your children chase their dreams. I left because Mum stifled me. Guide them, but dont control their lives.
And sometimes, family doesnt act in your best interest. Grans deception hurt Mum and Edward deeplya cruelty theyll never understand.
