HER HUSBAND CAME BACK FROM OFFSHORE BUT HE WASNT ALONE: IN HIS ARMS WAS A LITTLE BOY…
Emily slid the tray of fish pie out of the oven, and the scent of smoked haddock and onions quickly filled the kitchen. Everything was just how her husband, Ben, liked it. Fresh vegetable soup bubbled on the hob, the pie was cooling under a crisp white tea towel, and all that remained was to finish off the stewed apples on the stove. That wouldnt take long; Emily planned to finish it off the moment Ben set foot in the house.
She tucked the tin under a towel to keep it warm and wandered to the front window. Their detached house sat in the middle of a quiet cul-de-sac, directly opposite the village bus stop. Any minute now, the bus was due that would bring Ben home.
Emily hadnt seen Ben for three long months. He worked offshore on the Scottish oil rigs, spending three months at sea and three months at home. The wait always felt endless, but at least Bens wages were good. Their homea proper house, not a pokey flatalways seemed to need a mans touch.
The house belonged to Emily herself. When theyd married five years ago, Ben still had his city flat. Theyd quickly decided that a roomy detached house in the countryside was the way forward, so Ben had sold his flat and invested the money in a business venture. But the business hadnt taken off, and Ben had ended up offshore, working shifts for the past three years.
Financially, things could be worseBen brought home a fair income in pounds sterlingbut the weeks alone tested Emilys patience. She was only twenty-eight, yet sometimes it was easy to forget she even had a husband at all.
They had no childrenBen said it wasnt the right time yet. Hed always insisted, If Im away for months, how would you cope with a baby all on your own? Let me work a bit more. Once things settle, Ill quit my contracts, get a job in town, and then we can talk about a family. Except, of course, things never settled. The roof had sprung a leak just last week, and Emily had taken to keeping a washing-up bowl in the guest bedroom to catch the drips. Every time the English rain hammered down, it filled up fast.
Ben already knew about the roofhe always called, without fail, every eveningand had promised hed sort it as soon as he got home. Emily knew the repairs would be costly.
Still, Ben was a good man: hard-working, caring, protective. Emily loved him, and always took time off for his return, filling the house with his favourite dishes and standing by the front window, waiting for the sound of the bus brakes.
His plane had landed at Heathrow hours ago, and now finallythe bus! Her heart skipped. She spotted Ben, shouldering a massive duffel bag.
Usually, hed wave happily as the bus pulled away, knowing she was watching from the window. But today was different. Ben wasnt alone. Cradled in his other arm, he carried a tiny child. A boy, maybe? Emily couldnt tell. Children werent her strong suit. Still, Ben looked grim; he didnt wave.
He had no free hands for it: one for the bag, one for the boy.
He headed toward the zebra crossing, leaving Emily rooted in confusion. Whose child was that? Was he bringing a colleagues son over? But then, why carry him home? And who would trust Bena man unused to childrento look after such a tiny kid?
Ben stepped into the hall, set down his heavy bag, and gently lowered the boy to the floor. The boy shuffled closer to Bens leg, wide eyes staring up at Emily, thumb in mouth. It was clear he was terrified, and Emily felt just as lost. She didnt run to Ben this time; she just froze in the doorway.
Well, Em, arent you going to greet your husband? Ben reached for her.
But there wasnt a trace of his usual cheerfulness in his eyes. Carefully, so as not to brush the boy, Emily hugged Ben and returned his kiss. But her nerves got the better of her.
Ben, whose child is this? Whats going on?
Ben sighed heavily, nudged Emily aside, and took the boy by the hand. Come on, Jamie, lets get your shoes off and settle you in. He led the child to the spare room, sat him on the bed, and handed him a model Spitfire hed always been proud ofno one else was even allowed to touch it, let alone dust it. Emilys heart twisted; this was serious.
Just stay here for a bit, Jamie. I need to have a quick chat with Auntie Emily.
He closed the door behind him.
Bit of supper, love? he offered, forcing a half-hearted smile.
Of course, come through, Emily managed.
She spooned soup into a bowl, sliced the pie, and sat opposite him as he dug in silently, eyes down. He struggled with his words.
Hes my son, Ben finally blurted. That little boyhes mine.
Emily drew a sharp breath and her heartbeat thudded in her chest. Part of her willed Ben to laugh, to say he was joking. But he wasnt smiling at all.
It just happened, Em. You see, three months aloneone night, the cook, it didnt mean anything. Just a couple of times. But she got pregnant.
And you told me it was too soon for children? Meanwhile, you have a son with someone else? Emilys voice broke with the strain of holding back tears.
It wasnt something I planned, I swear Ben tried to explain. I never even knew she was pregnantnot until she was gone. She dieda freak accident, honestlyyou know the stories about wild animals up north. She worked late, took a shortcut, and, well, that was the end. The authorities tracked me down because Im named as the father. No sense in denying ithes the spit of me. Didnt you see?
Emily hadnt. She couldnt bring herself to look at the boy. Now, the child seemed nothing more than a living reminder of Bens betrayaland yet, there was something she still didnt understand.
So why bring him here? Where else could he go? her voice barely above a whisper.
Theres nowhere, Ben said quietly. If you cant forgive me, well both leave. But Ill always be faithful now. It was a stupid mistakeIll never slip up again, I promise on my life.
Emily studied her husband. Though she felt wretched, she could see how truly sorry Ben was. Over the years, shed grown used to the rhythm of life built around his comings and goings. She loved him. Shed forgive him, eventually. But what about the child?
And the boy? she asked quietly. What are you planning to do?
Ben shrugged helplessly. Where else would my son go? If you dont forgive me, well leave together. But if you dohe needs a home, too. Hes just a two-year-old, Em.
Emily slipped out of the house without another word, needing to clear her head. She roamed the village lanes in the English drizzle until well after dark, her mind churning. At one point, she stood by the old stone bridge over the river, shivering. The thought of giving upall of itbriefly danced through her head, but only for a moment. Deep down, she already knew what she would do. She couldnt imagine her life without Ben. Shed have to find a way to accept the boy.
Late that night, she quietly let herself back into the house. Ben was asleep, but in the spare room, little Jamie twisted in sleep, the lamp dimly lighting his thin, pale face. He seemed so small, so troubled. His life had already been so hardhis mother gone, his world upturned. Emily longed to feel some pity, but only resentment bubbled up.
Jamie was painfully quiet and shy. Emily didnt let herself show her feelings, but she sensed the child instinctively kept his distance. He gravitated always to Ben for comfort, who himself seemed uncertain, dutiful but distantbathing, feeding, buying toys, but nothing more.
The first week, Emily spoke to neither Ben nor Jamie. She drifted around her own house like a ghost, avoiding even looking at the boy. Only as Ben set about fixing the roof and mending ceilingspractical jobsdid conversation gradually resume. By the end of the month, Emily softened toward Ben, forgiven even. The boy, though? She still couldnt bear to look at him.
After two months, Emily grew anxious. Bens next stint offshore was approaching. What was he planning for Jamie? Ben frowned at her when she asked.
I cant bring him offshore, Em. Children arent allowed, and where would I leave him, with the crew in the cabins? Obviously hell stay here. Ive sorted him a spot at the nursery just up the road, only paperwork left. Youll drop him off in the morning, pick him up in the evening. He wont be any bother. Hes very independent.
Independent Jamie, his huge blue eyes blinking, was peeking out from behind the door. Emily realised hed heard every word. Two-year-olds understood more than people thought, apparently.
Ben went away. Jamie grew even quieter. He dressed himself each morning, wordless, followed behind Emily to nursery. She collected him in silence, fed him in silence.
Then, one evening, Jamie quietly pushed his bowl aside and slipped out to his bedroom. Emily passed his open door often enough to notice him lying still on the bed, not playing with his toy train or building blocks. Shed have dismissed it as tiredness, but his cheeks were burning red against his pale skin.
Reluctantly, she edged into the room and reached for his forehead. Even before she touched him, she felt the heat. Panic rising, she tried to shake him awake. It was ages before his bleary eyes flickered open.
Jamie, sweetheart, are you feeling poorly? When did it start?
A while. My head and throat hurt, he mumbled, showing her. They had to take me out of nursery yesterday.
He was barely conscious; she needed to act. Emily fetched paracetamol, rang for an ambulance, and stared at the thermometer as the mercury soared past 40. She waited, wringing her hands at the window. Jamie, you never said a word You were scared Youre just a little boy. Youve lost so much already. Why should you suffer more, just because Im cross with your father?
The paramedic frowned as she listened to Jamies lungs. Well need to admit him, mum. His chest isnt right.
Emily bundled him into the ambulance, holding the little boy tight.
At the hospital, nurses asked Emily if she was the boys mother.
Hes my husbands sonsoon to be mine, Im adopting him, Emily heard herself sayand realised, with a jolt, she finally meant it.
Two weeks passed on the childrens ward. Emily checked Jamies temperature hourly and nagged the nurses with questions. Jamie, in turn, clung to her, his eyes wide with gratitude.
Later, at home, it was Jamie who, on Bens next return, called Emily Mum for the first time. After the adoption was finalised, Emily felt in her bones what the paperwork now said: Jamie was truly her son.
A year and a half went by. Jamie flourishedcheerful, bright, devoted entirely to Emily now. The bond was unbreakable. Ben still worked offshore, but, to his relief, Jamies loyalties belonged to his mother.
Then tragedy struck. News arrived: a coach carrying workers had plunged into a ravine, buried in snow; survivors couldnt be found. Ben was among the missing.
Emily was lost in grief, saved only by Jamie. How lucky, she thought, that she had someone to live for. After a year, Ben was declared officially missing; soon, hed be presumed dead. Only weeks before this deadline, Ben walked unannounced through the door.
It was early spring, raining as always. Emily, back from a wet walk with Jamie, was fussing about sodden socks and boiling the kettle when she froze mid-sentence: Ben, casual as you please, was sitting at her kitchen table, eating her apple tart.
Dont panic, Em, Im alive, he said, grinning.
Where have you been these two years? Emily whispered, sinking heavily onto a kitchen stool.
With another woman, Ben confessed. Just as I was due to take that fateful coach, an old friend rangwanted company down in Cornwall, buying property. Shes a bit older, quite wealthy. When news of the crash came, I justdecided to stay gone. Lifes a coincidence like that, isnt it?
Emilys fingers tightened on her fork. And now? Why come back?
She wants kids, but cant have them. Were getting married. Ive come for a divorce, and for Jamie.
What? Emily cried. Jamie? You want to take him?
My fiancée cant have children. Jamies all Ive got. Well raise himgive him everything.
Never! Emily shrieked, her voice rising, hands gripping the fork so tightly Ben backed away. Hes not some toy for your new life. Hes my son. Ourseven by law, all signed and sealed. Go, take your divorce, take what you like, but Jamie stays with me. If you try to take him, so help me
Ben paled, eyeing the fork, relieved when Emily set it down.
Well, have it your way. Raise another mans child. No ones going to want you with baggage, Ben sneered.
Id rather be alone than land another selfish man like you, Emily snapped back. Jamie and I will be just fine, thank you very much!
From the kitchen doorway, Jamie ran to Emily, clung to her tightly, sobbing, Mummy, please dont let him take me!
Emily cradled him on her knee. Never, my love, never. Youre my son and always will be. As for you, Benget out. Jamies staying with me. Go on, leave.
The slamming door was the only reply. Jamie and Emily, together, began again.
