Do you remember, Emily
Hed gotten used to peering into their window since they lived on the ground floor. At first, the family had hoped for a flat higher up, but everyone eventually adjusted. No one was happier than Grandma, as she didnt have to climb the stairs. Every Saturday, Mrs. Margaret, Emilys grandmother, would bake pies, scones, or something else delightful, but always warm and aromatic.
The scent of baking would drift through the open kitchen window, teasing the boys playing football outside. Tim would stride over, but not to the kitchen windowinstead, hed come around to the side, drag an old crate from the overgrown garden, and stand on it to peer in at Emily. It was as if she knew hed turn up, running over when she heard him scramble up.
Ill bring you a pie. Grandma made loads, Emily said, her hair pulled back by a pale blue ribbon that always seemed to come loose as she rushed.
Tastes great, Tim said, chewing happily as he glanced into her room. Did you finish your English homework?
Yep, its done.
Can I copy it?
Emily generously handed over her notebook. Just bring it back tomorrow morning, Ill need it before classes.
Tim was pretty bright, but like many boys, a little lazy. He had a knack for maths, but playing outside stole precious time from his studies. It was the nineties; nobody had mobile phones yet, and kids would run around till dusk, not wanting to go home.
In Year Eight, Tim carried Emilys bag for the first time, swinging it as he recounted a new film hed seen. Then in Year Nine, a delicate, brown-eyed girl called Oliviaunanimously crowned by the boysbecame the prettiest girl in school. Tim was smitten. He followed Olivia everywhere, trailed her to her doorstep. Emily thought it was just a phase. Shed wait for him by the window, knowing hed tap and say, Emily, let me copy your homework.
Olivia never let anyone too close, but she certainly knew how to keep Tim attached. He bounced between Olivia, sometimes welcomed and sometimes not, and Emily, who always waited for him.
He kept coming by Emilys window, and shed leave her mug of tea steaming on the sill, grabbing biscuits if there werent any pies.
Heard our team lost, hed mention, meaning football. Emily always knewshe paid attention to anything that interested Tim. She watched football, read sports news, and even sat through horror films, despite hating them, just so she could chat with Tim about them.
She was his mate, always there whenever he needed her. Tim dashed to her more as a confidanta friend whod bail him out, listen, and understand. Olivia, on the other hand Tim admired her, thought about her, dreamt of her, and even complained to Emily when their friend Jack walked Olivia home instead.
After school, all three ended up at different universities. Tim no longer came to copy Emilys homework; he was glued to Olivias side. Occasionally, for old times sake, hed pop in to see Emily. Sometimes theyd catch a film, and Tim would talk non-stop during the walk, needing someone to listen.
Tim, my birthdays on Saturday. Id love you to come. Will you? Emily asked him, her grey eyes filled with shy affection.
He paused. Saturday? Yeah, I suppose so. Who else is coming?
My parents, Grandma, Jessica and William, Chloeyou know them, all our lot.
Alright, count me in, Ill swing by.
But Tim didnt show up that Saturday. He arrived a week later, looking miserable and withdrawn. Tim, whats wrong? You look really down.
He complained about Olivia going away for her placement without telling him. Emily comforted him (though it took everything she had). I waited for you last Saturday, she said.
What was last Saturday?
It was my birthday
Oh, blimey, he groaned, slapping his forehead. Emily, I forgothope youre not mad
Of course not, these things happen.
He wandered to her window. Remember those summers you fed me pies? You had a crate by the window, Id stand on it, and your windowsill was like a table, always with tea and jam.
Emily smiled. The memory warmed her heart, and she was glad Tim remembered. They chatted away like carefree kids, recalling their old gang, classmates, the time they snuck out of school and their teacher caught them sitting in the park, sending them straight back to History.
In his final year at uni, Tim was over the moonOlivia agreed to marry him. He brought Emily the news. She held herself together, biting her lip to keep from crying, listening as always, just a friend he could trust.
She spent a month crying into her pillow, scolding herself for never having confessed her feelings through all those years.
Afterwards, he dropped by. Grandma and Emilys parents were out visiting. The flat was quiet and Emily, wrapped in an old blanket, watched TV. She barely believed it when she heard Tims voice at the door.
She opened it to find him looking defeated, his eyes hollow, resting his shoulder against the wall. Whats happened? she asked, worried.
He stepped inside, and sat with her. He seemed on the verge of tears. Tim, please tell me, whats wrong?
She there wont be a wedding. She told me she loves someone else. Emily had never seen him so shattered. She approached, placed her hands on his shoulders: Tim, youve got to calm down, things might still work out.
No, its done, shes taken back the notice herself you understand, thats it, tears glittered in his eyes. He rested his head in her lap, slipped off the sofa, burying his face in Emilys dress. Its impossible, Emily, just impossible
Tim, sweetheart, please, calm down. Let me make you some mint tea remember our teas on the windowsill?
I remember, Emily, I remember, youre the only one who understands meyou’re wonderful, he said, kissing her knees, uncertain at first then more urgently, as if trying to let go of pain through kisses. He rose, wrapped her waist, covering her face and neck with kisses, whispering to her.
Tim, stop, please
Em Emily
Tim, Tim, I love you! Always have, since Year Six, my dear
He left after midnight, averting his eyes with embarrassment, avoiding looking at Emily. Well, see you. Ill be back
Ill be waiting, she said, but watched as he left, closing the door behind him.
But Tim never returned, as though that night had never happened. Emily herself wondered if shed only dreamed it. Soon after, Tim finished his degree and moved to the far North.
We have to do something! her father said indignantly. We can speak to his parents, at least.
You know she doesnt want to! Shes on edge, and that could harm the baby, her mother replied. Tim knows about the pregnancy, Emily told him. He acted like a stranger Maybe he left on purpose
No, just letting this go is outrageous, her father persisted.
Grandma tried to distract herself with knitting, wiping away tears every so often. She was hurt for her granddaughtersuch a bright, kind girl.
When Emilys daughter, little Lily, was born, Emily managed to get Tims work number (pestered his classmate for it) and called, saying only one thing: Tim, weve got a daughter together. I called her Lily.
He muttered something, barely audible, only Congratulations made any sense.
When Lily turned eighteen months, Emilys parents announced that, at last, their payments on a new flat were settled and they were moving along with Grandma. The flat was similar, two bedrooms, just in the neighbouring borough. Well take turns visiting, and help you out, Mum promised.
Emily burst into tears.
Now, what are the tears for? Mum said. Ill come round every day, help with Lily, even bring her round to oursyoure doing some work from home anyway
Im just used to us all being together, Emily admitted.
Sweetheart, time passesyou need your own life now, and itll be easier to manage once youre on your own, Mum comforted her.
Recently, Emily heard more and more from family and friendsshe ought to get on with her life, that she was still young, and even mothers could remarry.
A week later, the flat fully belonged to Emily. Little Lily laughed, wobbling about, trying to walk. She managed, even if she tumbled onto the rug, and soon got up, reaching out for Emily. Emily scooped her up, hugged her, laughing along.
He appeared without warning. Hed always had a knack for showing up unexpectedly, just as he had after his ruined wedding with Olivia.
Emily thought it was her father, whod promised to drop by, but instead Tim stood on the doorstep, holding an enormous red toy fire engine.
Hey! Are you alone? Not intruding, am I? May I come in?
He looked older, thinner, his features sharper now.
Come on in.
Here, he set the toy on the floor.
A baby’s cry echoed, Emily fetched Lily: Thats my daughter, she said, pointing to the toy.
He slapped his forehead. Sorry
Take the fire engine with you, give it to someone else, Emily said.
He shed his coat and wandered into the kitchen. Everything looks much the same. Got any tea?
She turned on the kettle, keeping Lily in her arms. Tim felt awkward, struggling to find words for conversation.
He watched herblonde, hair loose, in a long dress nearly to her ankles, holding her daughter. You look just like the Madonna, he murmured, gazing at her.
Emily stayed silent.
I remember your grandmas pies were so amazing. And the teas on the windowsill in your room. I recall how your grandma watered her plants, and once she tipped water out the window right onto me belowshe didnt see I was under the sill, Tim tried to smile. Do you remember, Emily
I dont, Emily cut him short, her voice relaxed, almost indifferent. Tim paused, lost for words. Her reply wasnt meant to punish him for confusing her daughter for a sonit was sincere. She truly was beginning to forget the details of those days. Now, all her attention was on Lily; she delighted in her, watched her first words, remembered her babble, watched how she woke and slept, how she played
Well, drink your tea. I need to make Lilys porridge.
For the first time, Tim felt he wasnt welcome in the home. He stood up, grabbed his coat. Alright, another time. Best be off, youre busy. He lingered for several seconds, hoping Emily would stop him, but she didnt.
As she closed the door behind him, she quietly said, There wont be another time, tea isnt served here anymore. Nor coffee, either.
She returned to Lily, gathered her up, kissed her, and set about making porridge.
And heres what life teaches us: sometimes the most loyal friends are left behind, unnoticed, while we chase dreams that never last. Cherish those who truly care, and never take love and companionship for granted, for one day, you may find the most meaningful moments you had are ones you let slip away.
