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Forty Years On: I Still Think About Him and Decided to Track Him Down

Forty years had slipped by, yet I could not shake his memory. I decided I would find him. By sheer accident

A Child for a Friend When Lily was nearing the end of her pregnancy, her younger brother left home, her father started drinking again, and her life spiralled into chaos. Every morning, Lily would air out the house, clear away empty bottles from under the table, and wait for her father to wake. “Dad, you know you can’t drink. You barely recovered from your stroke.” “I’ll drink if I want to. Who’s going to stop me? It’s the only way I can cope with the pain.” “What pain, Dad?” “The pain of realising I’m not needed. Not even by you – I’m just a burden to you. I’m a lost cause, Lily. Never should have been born. Never should have married and had kids who only inherited my weakness and poverty. It’s all pointless, love. Easier just to drink.” Already feeling low, Lily grew irritated. “Nothing’s pointless, Dad. Plenty of people have it worse.” “How much worse, love? You grew up without a mother. Your baby will grow up without a father and in poverty.” “Things aren’t always that bleak. Nothing stays the same forever—anything can change in a moment.” With sadness, Lily recalled how not so long ago she’d been happy—preparing to marry Paul. Life had fallen apart, but she knew she had to keep going. That day, her father got drunk again. In frustration, Lily shouted: “Did you spend the emergency money I put aside? How did you find it? Have you been going through my things?!” “Everything in this house is mine,” her father declared, “including the pension you hide from me! My pension.” “And you drank every penny? Did you even wonder how we’ll eat?” “Why should I care? I’m unwell. You’re grown, it’s your job to look after me now!” Lily searched the cupboards. “I remember there were two packs of pasta and some butter left yesterday. They’re gone now! What are we supposed to eat tonight?” She was stunned, slumping into a chair and burying her face in her hands. How could she have known that Auntie Natasha had taken to coming round, keeping her dad company, and robbing the place behind her back? Stealthy as a snake, Natasha had slipped into their lives, doing all she could to tear the family apart. That night Lily cried herself to sleep, lying in bed defeated, hungry and alone. The next morning came a knock at the door – in walked Natasha Ivanova, wearing a trendy coat and heeled boots. She didn’t even bother removing her shoes as she strode in. “Morning. My friend in the council told me you’re in arrears—your power will be cut off soon. What’s going on, Lily? Got any tea?” Without waiting, Natasha went straight to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards and fridge. “I’ll make us tea, you’re expecting just like my Sarah… Honestly, you’ve got nothing here. Not a crumb. Let’s go to the shops.” Lily avoided her gaze. “Aunt Natasha, I can’t offer you tea. You should go.” But Natasha wasn’t leaving. “Things are bad, aren’t they? I told you before—come live with me. Actually, I insist this time. You can’t raise a baby here with your father drinking and no food. You need fruit, vitamins―pack up, you’re coming to live with me.” Lily’s head began to spin and tears ran down her cheeks. Natasha hugged her: “Look here, love, I know how you feel about me. I’m no saint—my own daughter stole your fiancé. But I can’t stand to see you suffer. Like it or not, I’ll take care of you.” Everything after that seemed like a dream – Natasha helped her pack, called a taxi, and off Lily went. *** When Lily went into labour, Natasha didn’t leave her side. “Listen carefully, Lily. I’ve already told the staff you want to give up the baby. So when she’s born, don’t hold her, don’t even look. Just turn away.” In pain, Lily could only groan: “Oh, Aunt Natasha, I don’t care—anything to end this agony…” “Remember, you can’t raise this child yourself. I’ve found a lovely family ready to adopt your baby right away.” After a few hours, a healthy baby girl was born. “Three-point-three kilos, everything is fine.” The nurse wrapped the wailing baby and took her away without showing Lily. But the paediatrician fixed her with a stern look: “What’s this? You’ve given birth to a beautiful, healthy girl, and you won’t even look at her? Anna, bring the baby back and place her on her mum’s chest.” Shaking her head, Lily protested: “I don’t want to. I can’t provide for her, I didn’t want this… There are people who need her more than I do, I’ll sign her over for adoption…” “At least look at her—don’t be silly.” Lily squeezed her eyes shut, but then she felt something soft and warm against her hand. The nurse laid the baby next to her; the tiny girl snuffled, rooting and reaching out. Finally, Lily looked at her daughter. The small, helpless child squinted up at her, stretching out tiny hands across Lily’s chest. “There you are, mummy,” the paediatrician smiled. She brightened as she saw Lily tremble with emotion at the sight of her child for the first time. “What a pretty little girl. She needs you, not some strangers, you see?” Crying, Lily cuddled her daughter and nodded. For the next two hours after the birth, Lily lay beside her girl, unable to take her eyes off her. Her mother’s instinct had awakened. “There it is—the meaning of my life. My daughter. Doesn’t matter that Paul’s left, or that Dad’s drinking—I’m needed by my child. And that’s enough.” *** Lily was woken by Natasha’s voice. Natasha Ivanova, wrapped in a dressing gown, entered the room and eyed Lily in bed. “Have you forgotten our agreement?” she whispered. “You promised to give up the baby. I’ve arranged for people to adopt her straight away.” “Aunt Natasha, I’ve changed my mind. I’m not giving her away.” “But you have no money, you’re practically homeless—what will you do with a baby?” “I’ll take her home. I won’t burden you anymore. I’ll manage on my own.” Lily saw Natasha’s face twist in rage. “You’ve lost your mind! You have nothing. What are you going to do, beg on the streets?” Her daughter, sleeping in the cot, awoke at Natasha’s shout. Lily got up and moved towards her. “Don’t! I’ll feed her a bottle and say you’ve no milk,” Natasha declared. Shaking her head, Lily replied: “That’s not for you to decide. She’s my daughter. I said I’ve changed my mind and I won’t give her up!” “You can’t! You promised!” Natasha screeched. “Leave.” Natasha stormed out. Lily’s new roommate, quietly lying in her bed, looked over: “Who was that?” “My aunt.” “Awful. You did right sending her packing. I’m Laura—if you ever need help, I’m here. There’s still good people in the world.” “I’m Lily.” “Nice to meet you, Lil. I could tell that woman wanted to snatch your daughter and run. She was odd.” *** Before discharge, Lily had another visitor waiting outside. Her former friend Sarah stood awkwardly, her own pregnancy now undeniable. “Hey.” Lily sat on the bench. Sarah joined her. “I heard you had the baby.” “Yeah, a girl.” Sarah’s eyes darted. “You know Mum found people to adopt your girl, right?” “And?” “They’re lovely, really rich—offering a million for your baby. You could buy a flat or at least a room in a shared house.” “A million, is it? Well, if you’re so worried, maybe you should sell your own kid to them.” Sarah pouted but grabbed at Lily’s arm. “Wait, Lily. Give the baby to me, please! I’ll raise her—she’s Paul’s daughter, after all.” “Think you can manage two babies?” “You don’t understand, Lily! My family’s falling apart!” Lily stood to leave. Sarah clung to her, looking crazed: “I need that child, Lily!” “Let go.” …A couple of hours later, Paul himself burst into the room. Lily recoiled when she saw him. “You’ve had her? Can I see?” “No! Your precious Sarah’s due soon—go look there!” “I need to talk to you, Lily. Since she was born, I can’t think about anything else. Look, I want my daughter. Sign her over to me and I’ll adopt her myself.” Lily shook her head. “I’m not like you—I’ll never abandon someone who needs me. You’re wasting your time—my daughter is not yours to take.” Paul also refused to leave. “Give me the baby! You had no right to have her without me! It’s my child—I’ll get her!” “You? Mummy’s boy? Why not ask your mother if it’s allowed first?” Lily pushed past her ex, scooped up her daughter, and headed for the nurses’ station. “Could you please not let anyone else visit me? I’m not expecting anyone and I certainly don’t want anyone here—this isn’t a public hall!” Epilogue On her discharge, Lily left the hospital clutching her daughter. She wasn’t alone—her roommate, Laura, was also being released to the warm welcome of her husband and mother. Lily paused as she saw the Johnsons’ car outside. Out stepped Paul’s mother, Valerie Johnson. She scrutinised Lily, craning her neck and narrowing her eyes. Lily shivered. Her would-be mother-in-law looked on with the intensity of a wolf poised to attack. Laura noticed her friend’s expression and came to stand beside her. “Who’s that, Lily?” “Paul’s parents.” “She’s glaring like she’s waiting to pounce. This whole family’s gone for you—something’s wrong. My mum’s got a spare room for you, remember? Come home with us.” Lily nodded, feeling the same creeping anxiety. *** While living with her new friends, Lily unexpectedly found love—Laura’s cousin, Ivan, an old bachelor, began courting her. Ivan proved to be a good man: warm, kind. He married Lily, adopted her daughter, and even helped her father-in-law get back on his feet. As for Sarah and Paul—their marriage collapsed. Turns out Sarah was faking her pregnancy, fooling the entire Johnson clan. Natasha Ivanova, wanting to protect her daughter, confessed to her son-in-law that Sarah had miscarried early on, then suggested a “solution.” “Paul, love, don’t be angry with my daughter. She lost the baby, but your conscience isn’t clean either. Your child with Lily will soon be born. I thought—why not take Lily’s baby and raise her as your own? We don’t need to tell your parents about Sarah’s loss. We’ll all pretend Sarah’s still pregnant. Once Lily gives birth, we’ll take the baby and say it’s Sarah’s.” Paul liked his mother-in-law’s plan. And everything would have worked out—until Lily “kicked up a fuss,” refusing to abandon her newborn in the hospital, leaving her former friend and her mother at a dead end. Paul’s mother, Valerie Johnson, was furious when she found out about the deceit and threw Sarah out, forcing her son to divorce.

A Child for a Friend When Lily was nearing the end of her pregnancy, her younger brother left home, and

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The Nuisance Next Door “Keep your hands off my cataracts!” shrieked my ex-friend. “Watch your own eyes! You think I don’t notice who you’re gawping at?” “Are you jealous or something?” Tamara Borisovna replied, surprised. “I see now who you’re sweet on! I know what I’m giving you for Christmas—a lip-roller!” “Why not keep it for yourself?” snapped back Lynda. “Or are your lips past help, then? You think I don’t see?” Old Mrs Tamara swung her legs from the ancient bed and made her way to her home altar for morning prayers.

Dont you dare touch my glasses! shouted the former friend, her voice echoing across the garden fence.

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He Told His Wife He Was Bored of Her—But She Changed So Much That She Ended Up Bored of Him

You know, its funny what can change in a couple of years. Nearly two years ago, my husband Simon said

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He Set His Sights on Another Man’s Wife: The Curious Tale of Victor Dutton, a Weak-Willed Art Teacher, His Fanciful Studio, Disastrous Marriage, and the Day Sophia Found Her Happily Ever After at the Village Fair

Kept an Eye on Another Mans Wife Living together with Victor Dunham revealed what sort of man he wasweak-willed

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She Packed Her Bags and Vanished Without a Trace: When a Husband’s Deceit Backfires, a Sister Takes a Stand, and a Family Falls Apart

The wife had packed her bags and disappeared without a trace. Stop pretending youre some sort of saint.

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Through Thick and Thin: The Bittersweet Journey of Antonina—From Early Widowhood and Daughter’s Farewell to New Neighbours, Small Village Struggles, and the Search for Love, Belonging, and a Place Called Home

Through Thick and Thin Eleanor was widowed early, at forty-two. By then, her daughter, Jane, had already

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My Dearest One: A Story of Family Secrets, Lost Roots, and a Daughter Found in the Forest

My Darling Girl. A Story Mary found out shed grown up in a foster family. She still struggled to accept it.

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He Set His Sights on Another Man’s Wife When they moved in together, Victor Dudley showed himself to be weak-willed and indecisive. His days depended entirely on what mood he woke up in. Occasionally he’d be lively and full of jokes, laughing out loud all day. But mostly, he’d spend his time brooding, endlessly sipping coffee and skulking around the house in a creative funk, just as was typical for people in the arts. And Victor considered himself one of them—he worked at the village school, teaching art, woodwork, and sometimes music if the music teacher was off sick. He was drawn to art, but couldn’t express his creativity at school, so the house suffered instead—Victor claimed the brightest, largest room for a studio. His wife, Sophie, had planned the space as a future nursery, but since the house belonged to Victor, she didn’t protest. Victor filled the room with easels and tripods, scattered paint tubes and clay everywhere, and got to work: painting, sculpting, moulding—sometimes losing himself for days over a bizarre still life or a lumpy figurine. His ‘masterpieces’ never left the house: the walls groaned beneath paintings Sophie couldn’t stand, and shelves buckled under misshapen clay statuettes. If only the creations were beautiful, but no. The handful of old artist and sculptor friends who sometimes visited would fall silent, avert their eyes, and sigh as they gazed awkwardly at the pieces. None of them ever praised Victor’s work. Except for old Leonard Pecks, the eldest of the lot, who after downing a bottle of rowanberry liqueur, announced: “Good Lord, what a senseless mess! I haven’t seen a single worthy thing in this house—apart from its lovely mistress, of course.” Victor couldn’t take the criticism. He shouted, stamped his feet, and demanded his wife kick the ‘insulting’ guest out. “Get out!” he screamed. “You have no appreciation for art! You’re only jealous!” Leonard stumbled out, and a mortified Sophie apologised at the gate: “Please don’t take his words to heart. You shouldn’t have criticised, but I should have warned you in advance.” Leonard just shook his head: “Don’t make excuses for him, dear child. I pity you. Such a pretty home ruined by Victor’s ghastly paintings! For us artists, what we create reflects our soul. And Victor’s soul is bare—as vacant as his canvases.” He kissed her hand farewell and left. Victor sulked for a whole month, smashing sculptures and tearing up paintings before finally cooling down. *** Yet Sophie never argued. She’d decided that once they had children, Victor would give up his obsession and turn the studio into a nursery. For now, she let him amuse himself. After their wedding, Victor tried to play the perfect husband—bringing home fruit and his pay, doting on his young wife. That didn’t last long. He soon grew distant, stopped sharing his wages, and Sophie had to handle everything—the house, the garden, the chickens, and his mother. Victor was overjoyed at the news of Sophie’s pregnancy—but the joy was short-lived. Within a week, Sophie fell ill, was hospitalised, and lost the baby early on. When Victor heard, he became weepy, nervous, even yelling at Sophie. He shut himself in, refusing to let her in the house when she returned home. “You were supposed to bear my child—but you failed! My mum’s in hospital because of you! I wish I’d never married you—you’ve brought nothing but misfortune!” Sophie collapsed on the steps, begging to be let in, but Victor ignored her tears until nightfall. Later, the neighbour came by with terrible news: Sophie’s mother-in-law hadn’t recovered from her heart attack. The loss broke Victor. He quit teaching, took to bed, and told Sophie, “I never loved you. I married you for my mum, she wanted grandkids. But you ruined our lives, and I’ll never forgive you.” The words stung, but Sophie vowed not to abandon her husband. Time passed but things got worse. Victor refused to leave his bed, eating and drinking only the bare minimum, blaming his ulcer, his apathy, everything except himself. Then Sophie found out he’d filed for divorce. She cried for days. She tried comforting Victor, but he rebuffed her: “Once I’m better, I’ll kick you out for good! You’ve ruined my life.” *** Sophie had nowhere to go. Her own mother, who’d been so eager to marry her off, had swiftly moved to the coast to remarry, selling their home and effectively leaving Sophie homeless. She was trapped. *** At last, the food ran out. Boiling the last egg from the chickens, Sophie fed Victor watery porridge. “I’ll go to the village fair, maybe sell a chicken or trade her for food.” Victor moaned: “Why sell her? Make me a proper broth for once, I’m sick of porridge!” Sophie twisted the hem of her only decent dress. “You know I can’t—she’s my favourite, she’d miss me.” Victor sneered, “You give your chickens names? Ridiculous woman, I shouldn’t expect better of you.” As she got ready to leave, Victor commanded, “Take a couple of my sculptures and paintings to the fair—someone might buy them!” Sophie reluctantly picked two clay bird whistles and a lumpy piggy bank, then hurried out before Victor could foist his garish paintings on her too. *** The fair bustled. Sophie felt out of place in her faded dress, the bag pressed close to her chest. At the jewellery stall she tried to sell her hen, but the vendor just scoffed. A young man at the next stall took interest. “How much for the hen? Why so cheap?” “She limps a little but lays well,” Sophie stammered. “I’ll buy her. And what’s that—figurines?” He grinned at her clumsy piggy bank. “I’ll take everything. I love unusual things.” The jeweller snorted, “Why, Dennis, aren’t you done playing with toys yet?” Sophie panicked when she learned Dennis sold kebabs at the fair. “I won’t sell my hen for barbecue!” Dennis laughed, easing her worry. “I’d never! My mum keeps hens—this one will have a good home. You can come visit her yourself.” On her way home, Dennis pulled up in his car. “Do you have more figurines? They’d make great gifts.” “There are plenty more at home!” Sophie smiled, feeling hope blossom. *** Back in the gloomy house, Victor groaned for water as Dennis entered, admiring the bizarre artwork. Victor boasted of his ‘talent,’ while Dennis covertly watched Sophie, noticing her quiet grace. Epilogue To Sophie’s surprise, Victor’s ‘illness’ vanished as soon as someone took an interest in his art. Dennis started visiting every day, buying up Victor’s paintings and trinkets, while clearly drawn to Sophie, not her husband’s ‘art.’ Eventually, Dennis stopped buying. Instead, he left with what he’d truly wanted—Sophie. Dennis and Sophie soon married, and whenever Dennis returned from trips home, he tossed Victor’s ‘masterpieces’ straight into the fire, still reminiscing fondly about spotting Sophie at the fair in her faded dress, instantly sure he’d found his soulmate. Victor, left alone, realised too late what he’d lost—a caring, selfless wife. He’d let true treasure slip through his fingers, and now there was no one left to fuss over him, or to shoulder his world. He Set His Sights on Another Man’s Wife

Set My Sights on Another Mans Wife When we first moved in together, Bradley Underwood proved himself

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I Found My Mother’s Diary: After Reading It, I Finally Understood Why She Treated Me So Differently from My Siblings

I stumbled upon my mothers diary tucked behind a motheaten coat in the attic of the old farmhouse near