“Excuse me, missdo you know who I belong to?” A small girl, no older than six, stared up at me with wide, pleading eyes.
“I’m looking for my mum. Have you seen her?”
I hesitated. Id only just moved into this building, and as far as I knew, the flat opposite mine had been empty for months.
“But no one lives there,” I told her gently.
Her face crumpled, and she sank onto the stairs, sobbing. “Please, miss, we really need her. Dad misses her so much.”
I stood there, helpless. Id never had childrendidnt even know how to comfort one. Should I hug her? Offer her tea? But she wouldnt follow a stranger inside. My phone rang just then, and after begging her to stay put, I rushed off. When I returnedshe was gone.
The girl haunted me all evening. Finally, I called my landlady, Mrs. Whitmore.
“Nobodys lived there for years,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
“A little girl came by today, looking for her mum.”
A pause. Then, quietly: “That must be Emily her mothers gone. Passed away. The husband moved out with the baby. Couldnt bear the memories.”
She gave me their new address, just in case the girl returned.
Life carried on. Work kept me busylate nights, early mornings. Then, just before Christmas, I heard it againa soft knock, muffled crying. I flung the door open. There she was.
“Whats wrong? Wheres your dad?”
“At home,” she whispered. “But I need Mum.”
This time, I made her wait inside while I searched for the address. She perched on the hallway stool, glancing around shyly. When I finally found the slip of papershe was fast asleep, curled up like a kitten. I carried her to the sofa, then dialed Mrs. Whitmore again.
“Shes here,” I said. “Asleep. Im afraid her father will panic.”
“Ill go to them,” Mrs. Whitmore assured me.
As I waited, I studied the girltucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Id always wanted children. My ex-husband and I had tried, but after two losses, it never happened. Then he left. Found someone else, had a daughter. I cut him out, along with everything wed shared. Seven years alone.
A quiet knock interrupted my thoughts. I opened the doorand froze.
“James?”
He looked exhausted. “Im here for Emily. Sugar Lane, number five?”
I nodded, stepping aside. “Shes sleeping. Come in.”
We sat at the kitchen table, the kettle boiling. Life had a way of delivering the strangest surprises.
“We wont bother you long,” he said. “Ill wake her.”
“Let her rest. Whats going on? She keeps coming here.”
James rubbed his eyes. “We lived here years ago. This was Kates flather grandfather left it to her. After we married, we moved in. Then she got pregnant.” His voice cracked. “When the time came, I took her to the hospital. She she knew something was wrong. Made me promise to look after Emily.”
A tiny voice called from the living room. “Daddy?”
James scooped her up, holding her tight. “Sweetheart, you cant run off like that.”
“I just want to find Mummy.”
“We will,” he whispered. “But not today. Lets go home.”
Before leaving, he handed me his card. “Call me if she comes back.”
“How does she know this address?” I asked.
“I showed her,” he admitted. “Came to collect some things. She saw Kates photos started believing her mum would come back. I told her Kate was away, that shed return someday.”
They left. Days later, James called. We started meetingparks, cafés, cinemas. Emily clung to me, even called me “Mum” once.
Then one evening, James took my hands. “Irene move in with us. No more rented flats. Emily misses you.”
“And you?”
His gaze dropped. “Me too. Im sorry for everything.”
Now, were a family. Raising our little miracleAnnabelle. She may not be mine by blood, but that doesnt stop me from loving her with every bit of a mothers heart.
