“An Angel” With a Secret
Edward sat at the kitchen table, his hands cupping a warm mug of tea. His eyes were alight with a gleam of excitement, and a dreamy smile kept flitting across his face. He simply couldn’t stop talking about HERthe girl who had so recently appeared in his life and turned his world upside down.
“She’s honestly just an angel!” he exclaimed, looking at his mother. His voice brimmed with adoration. “So sweet, kind, beautiful I look at her and can barely believe my luck. Why on earth did she pick me? I’m just an ordinary chapnothing special.”
Helen, sitting opposite, listened to her son intently, her face glowing with a soft, knowing smile. For some time, she’d noticed the change in Edwardhow much livelier, happier he seemed, as though a new spark had been kindled within him. Now, seeing him like this, she was sure: her son was well and truly in love.
“My boy, you’ve fallen for her, haven’t you!” she laughed brightly, leaning back in her chair. “So, when are you bringing this young lady home, then?”
Edward hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment as nervousness and anxiety mingled inside him. He wanted things to go perfectly, for his mother to see just how wonderful this girl was.
“I hope soon,” he answered, lifting his eyes again. “I’m waiting until she agrees. She says meeting parents is a big stepshe wants to be sure of our feelings first.”
Helen nodded, understanding the girl’s careful approach. She knew how important it was not to rush these things, and to let relationships grow in their own time.
“Well, I hope you can persuade her,” she said gently, ruffling her son’s perfectly combed hair with a fond hand.
He recoiled, feigning outrage. “Mum, really! What are you playing at? I’m not a kid anymore!”
Helen just laughed, her eyes full of warmth and affection.
“Bring her round on Saturday,” she suggested, choosing to sidestep their playful tiff. “I’ll bake a cake. I’ve got no appointments that dayI thought I’d give myself a proper break.”
Edward paused, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. He realised it really was a great opportunityhis mother had been waiting for this first meeting for ages.
“Alright,” he agreed at last, determination colouring his voice. “I’ll try to talk her round. I reckon Saturday will work.”
Helen had been taking in clients for nail work from home for years. Her tiny, cosy room doubled as a mini salon: a neat table with all her tools, racks lined with varnishes in every shade, a comfy chair for clients. Over those years, hundreds of girls and women had come through. Each brought a different story, mood, or temperament.
There were the shy ones, barely able to state what design they wanted. Some burst in, chattering loudly about life and barely drawing breath. Occasionally, shed get the haughty oneseyeing every tool with disdain, criticising her work. Helen could handle them allpolite, but firm, always keeping boundaries, skilled at steering the conversation back to neutral ground when needed.
But one client stood out in Helens memory. That was Juliaa seemingly regular girl at first glance. Always neatly dressed, never flashy. She spoke softly, looked you in the eye, smiled reservedly. She came regularly, preferred gentle pastel shades, never quibbled about the price. Helen even felt an affection for hershe seemed a good sort, just an ordinary, kind soul, no nonsense.
Then, one day as Helen carefully drew the requested design, Julia spoke up. Without haste, as if musing to herself, she began to share her story. And with each word, Helen realised she was seeing a whole new side.
“I’ve got three children,” Julia said, glazing at her nails in a matter-of-fact tone.
Helen froze, file in hand. She hadnt expected that.
“Really? Where are they?” she asked carefully, keeping her surprise hidden.
“One’s with his father, one’s in a children’s home,” Julia replied just as calmly. “The youngest is with me, but hell be going there too, before long.”
A heavy silence filled the room. Helen tried to digest the words, but Julia carried on, as though talking about the grocery shop.
“See, children are a good way to get settled in life. The main thing is to pick the right man.”
And she proceeded to lay out, with chilling composure, her strategy. Shed never sought marriage. She looked for well-off men, usually already in relationships or married. Shed spark an affair, wait for it to deepen, then get pregnant.
“Married men are often more generous,” Julia explained, flicking back a strand of hair. “They dont want trouble at home, do they? They payalimony, hush money, whatever it takes just to have me out of their lives.”
She spoke about it casually, almost like she was sharing a cake recipe. And the child, born into her scheme, was simply a toolonce they’d served their purpose, they became a burden to get rid of.
“This is my method, my way forward,” Julia stated, as if answering an unspoken question. Her voice didnt waver, no sign of regret or guilt. “You might judge me. But by twenty-five Ive got my own flat in central London, a snazzy car, my own business with decent profit. And what about you? Not much, right? Youre what, twice my age? What do you do all daypamper luckier girls? I can spend more in a café than you earn in a week!”
Julias words stabbed Helen, but she forced herself not to react. Instead, she took a slow, deep breath and firmly, quietly asked, “But theyre your children, your own flesh and bloodhow can you just walk away from them?”
The disbelief in her voice was real. How could anyone abandon something so preciousa little person, a part of yourself, who looks up at you and calls you Mum?
Julia just shrugged, a half-smile curling her lips. “Kids need raising and Ive not time for all that. Theyll be better off in caremaybe a kind woman will adopt them and be a mother to them. That woman wont be me.”
She might as well have been talking about the weather or picking a new nail polish. Helen shuddered, but Julia, noticing her expression, snapped quickly:
“Dont look at me like that! I never wanted to be a mother. I just cant do it. Changing nappies, crying at night, all that its not for me!”
Not a trace of shame in her toneonly steely certainty. She leant back, crossed her legs, tugged at the sleeve of her expensive jumper as if theyd just been discussing the colour of varnish and nothing more.
Helen slowly lowered her hands, still holding her manicure tools. Inside, she was flooded by equal parts outrage and pity. But what could she say? Would her words ever really change anything?
“Do you honestly think thats right?” she asked quietly, clinging to hope of a hint of doubt.
But Julia just laughed.
“Right is what brings me comfort and security. The rest doesnt matter.”
Helen was speechless. She looked at Julia, desperate for any sign that might explain away those cold, calculating words. How could someone speak so coolly about the fate of their own children?
“How did you ever come up with this?” Helen burst out, unable to disguise her disbelief and the sting of real pain.
Julia only shrugged, as if it were the most routine thing in the world. For some reason, today she felt like opening up. Why not? There was no way shed tell her friendstheyd certainly judge her. And this woman well, Julia had no intention of coming backshe could easily find another nail technician. Shame, really; Helen did such a lovely, careful job, put her heart into it. Still, she wasn’t the only professional in town. Odd, though, how sometimes the home-based ladies did a better job than the posh salons.
“It’s just how things worked out,” Julia said, glancing down at her nails. “I was nineteen, fell in love for real, no holding back. Wouldve done anything for that man. Turns out, he was married. To him, I was just a bit of fun.”
She paused, as if reliving those days. Helen remained silent, not daring to interrupt.
“By the time I knew, I was already four months gone. Too late to do anything else, so I had the baby. The man bought me a flatjust so I wouldnt wreck his life. He even took our son with himnot sure what story he told his wife.”
There was no bitterness in her voice. Only clear calculation.
“Thats when I realised,” Julia continued, chin lifted, “this was my ticket to an easy life. Why not use what falls into your hands?”
She fell silent, as though gathering herself. Despite everything, something elusive fluttered deep insidesomething she buried behind her mask of indifference.
“Now Im completely independent,” she said, straightening her back as if convincing both Helen and herself. “I dont need anybody’s help! So who knows, maybe now Ill meet a proper man, get married, have a couple of adorable babies. And live happily ever after.”
She said it with a smile, painting an ideal picture of the future, but for a fleeting second, something unguarded flashed in her eyes. She instantly hid it behind her bravado.
All the while, Helen kept her eyes fixed on Julias manicure, working meticulously. She didnt dare look upher gaze might betray everything she was thinking. A storm raged inside her: she wanted to speak out, call things by their names. But Helen restrained herself, her hands tight on her tools.
“Arent you afraid shell find out about your past? About what youve done? I cant call it anything but wickedness,” she whispered, not angrily but with a note of sorrow.
Julia smirked, her eyes glintinghalf mockery, half challenge.
“Ive covered my tracks well,” she replied evenly. “Moved to the opposite side of the country. No witnesses. My friends have no clue. My mother? Doesnt want to hear from mesuits me fine. Who else could say anything? You?” she sneered, gazing straight at Helen.
Helen felt herself tense. She carefully set down the nail file and straightened, meeting Julias gaze.
“I have better things to do than spy on you and your boyfriends! And I never spread gossip where it doesnt belong!” she retorted sharply, hurt rising inside her. “Its your life. But let me give you a bit of advice: secrets always come out. No matter how carefully you hide them, something always surfaces.”
She took a deep breath and shifted back into her professional tone.
“Im finished. Is everything to your liking?”
Julia didnt answer immediately. She examined her nails minutely, running a fingertip over the even polish, as if searching for fault. She found noneHelen always did perfect work.
“Yes, fine,” she said coolly, pulling out crisp pounds and laying the notes on the table. “I wont be coming here again. Ill find another manicurist. Goodbye. Or rather, farewell!”
Her voice was firm, completely final. She got up, adjusted her bag, and strode straight for the door. Helen silently watched her go.
The door clicked shut, and silence filled the room once more, broken only by the ticking of the clock. Helen quietly cleared her tools away, her mind a whirlpoolthoughts of Julia, of her children, of how people saw happiness and responsibility so very differently.
After that, Julia never returned. Helen would think of that conversation sometimes but tried not to dwell. After all, everyone chooses their pathand must answer for their choices.
*********************
Helen had spent ages planning the best way to organise a first meeting with her future daughter-in-law. The city flat felt all wrong: cramped, ordinary, lacking a proper sense of occasion. The cottage was a different story entirely! Fresh air, a garden in bloom, flowers and cut grass. She could lay out an afternoon tea in the pergola, perhaps throw some sausages on the barbecue. That would offer a warm, welcoming atmospherejust what youd want for a first introduction.
The big day finally came. Helen was busy from dawn: dusting the house, arranging vases of flowers, preparing all sorts of nibbles. She kept anxiously checking the clock, nerves dancing ever closer to the surface. It wasnt just a first meetingit felt like the moment her son was truly becoming a man, with real feelings, perhaps having found The One.
Edward, for his part, could hardly sit still. All morning he flitted about the country garden, straightened the wonky gate, swept the path, moved the terrace chairs around for symmetry. He pestered his mother: “Is everything alright? Anything Ive missed? Something else to do?” Helen only smiled, calming him: “Its all lovely, my dear. Dont fret.” But her heart was fluttering toosuch was the weight of the day.
At last, when the clock struck the hour, Edward pulled on a fresh shirt, flattened his hair, and declared, “Right, Im off for Julia. Well be back in half an hour.”
“Ill be waiting,” Helen said, trying to hide her nerves.
Left alone, she surveyed the setup again: tablecloth smooth, fruit in a bowl, wildflowers in a jug. Everything felt warm and homely. She drew a deep breath, willing her hands to steady. Her son had never been so serious about anyone before! He rarely brought girls home, and when he had, it felt fleeting, emotionless. But today Today, Edward had even bought a ring! Helen already knewhed confided happily the night before.
Thirty minutes whirled by. Helen waited at the gate, watching the lane. At last Edwards car appeared. He parked, got out, opened the passenger door. Out stepped a slender girla blue-eyed blonde in a short, white dress. The breeze played with her hair as the dress swayed softly with every step.
Edward took her hand and together they approached the house. Helen couldnt help but gaze at them: her son seemed so content; the girl, light and airyas if shed stepped out of a painting.
As they drew near, Helen peered at Julias face. Something niggled with familiarity, but dark sunglasses hid most of her features. “An angel,” she thought, remembering the way her son used that word in endless stories.
“Mum, this is Julia,” Edward said, gently nudging his guest forward.
Helen stood on the porch, smiling, the scent of blooming lime trees and a fresh summer evening pressing in around them. She was about to speak, to comment how beautiful Julia looked but suddenly, the girl froze.
Her movements slowed, almost robotic. She removed her sunglassesand in that moment, Helen saw her eyes: those very same eyes that had once sat before her in the manicure chair and shared a chilling confession.
Julia turned to Edward. Her lips trembled, but her voice was clear, almost ruthless.
“We need to break up.”
Edward blanched. He took a step forward, reaching out, but Julia pulled away.
“Why?” he whispered, not believing it. “Whats happened? We were just”
“Im not explaining,” she snapped, voice void of regret. “Its over.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and strode quickly down the path to the front gate. Helen and Edward stood motionless, stunned by the turn of events.
Seconds later, they heard a car slow by the lane. Julia got in without hesitation, and was gonewithout even a backward glance.
Edward sank onto the porch step. His shoulders slumped, his gaze empty. Helen came over, placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didnt react.
And Helen understood at once. Her own words from the manicure appointment echoed in her mind: “All secrets eventually come out, no matter how well you think you’ve covered your tracks.”
Now those words had a cruel new meaning. Was it a coincidence that, among thousands of men, Julia had chosen the son of the one woman who knew her biggest secret? Or had fate cruelly intervened, smashing Edwards happiness in a moment?
Helen watched the car disappear, her heart breaking for her son. He didn’t need words of comforthe needed time, plenty of time, to come to terms with it all and find a way to move on
********************
The quiet of evening, so peaceful before, now pressed down heavily. Somewhere in the distance, a dog started barkinga sound that made Edward flinch. He looked up at his mother, his eyes filled with hurt and confusion, like a child unable to grasp why the world had suddenly turned so cruel.
Edward remained on the porch, staring blankly ahead. The sun was nearly set, long shadows stretching across the path, but he registered none of the scenes beauty. Inside, everything felt numbno tears, no rage, just a heavy ache.
Helen came over and sat beside him. She hurried nothing, said nothingshe simply stayed, warm and steadfast, like when he was a boy and came to her with grazed knees or broken friendships.
A long ten minutes passed before Edward muttered, “MumWhy? Please, just tell mewhy does it happen like this? I I did everything for her.”
Helen breathed in deeply. Now was the moment for honesty, however painful.
“Edward,” she began gently, choosing every word, “I should tell you something: I’ve met that girl before.”
He turned to her abruptly, confusion written across his face.
“When? Where?”
“She came here for her nails, months ago. She told me about herself. About her life.”
Helen paused, gathering herself. Edward said nothing, his tense posture showing just how much he wanted her to go on.
“She has children, Edwardthree. One with a father, one in care, one with herthough she said even the youngest would soon be in a childrens home. She she never wanted to be a mother. For her, its just a means: she finds men, has children, then collects money and vanishes.”
Every word landed heavy as stone. Edward paled, listening in silence, his hands clenched white.
“When I saw her today, I recognised her instantly. She must have remembered me, too. Knew I knew her secret. Thats why she left so suddenly.”
A thick silence settled around them. Somewhere, a dog barked again, a car trundled by, but they obliviously stared into the dusk.
“But how? She was so gentle. We planned our future. I bought a ring, Mum”
His voice wavered. Helen reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“I know, love. I know how much it hurts. But its better to know now rather than later, when it would hurt even more.”
Edward covered his face with his hands, sitting motionless for a while. Suddenly, his shoulders shook. Helen wrapped her arms round him, holding him close as if he were still the little boy she once comforted after playground squabbles.
“Cry if you need to,” she whispered. “Its alright. The pain will fade. Slowly, but it will.”
He didnt cryhe just pressed his face to her shoulder while Helen gently stroked his hair, remembering all the childhood bruises shed once soothed in just this way.
“Why are some people like that?” he whispered. “Why do they play with other peoples feelings?”
“Not everyone, my darling,” Helen replied softly. “But there are some who just cant love sincerely. They look for gain, for comfort and convenience. Real feelings are foreign to themor too much trouble.”
Edward slowly straightened, wiping his eyes. The hurt was still clear, but a first flicker of acceptance broke through.
“So she was lying all along?”
“Yes. And thats not your fault. You just met someone incapable of love.”
The sun had finally slipped behind the trees; the air was dusky and cool. Helen got up and offered her hand.
“Come on inside. Well have a cup of tea and talk it all through. You need to get it off your chest. And then then you can begin the next chapter, love. Itll be alright, I promise. Maybe not today. Today, youre allowed to be sad.”
Edward nodded. He didnt know what the road ahead would look like, but one thing he did know: his mum was beside him, and for now, that was enough.
