Fate reached out
Emily Brown seemed to have a decent family at first a hardworking father, a caring mother, a tidy house in the small Yorkshire village of Littleford. By the time she reached Year6, however, the cracks began to show. The laughter faded, the doors slammed, and the scent of cheap whisky seeped through the kitchen windows. First her father, then her mother, fell into the bottle. As the final years of secondary school loomed, Emily realised there was no pulling them out of the mire; they sank deeper, dragging everything around them down with them.
Fights erupted nightly. When the parents turned on each other, the blows landed on the only innocent witness their daughter.
Why is this happening to me? Emily sobbed, curling into the far corner behind the wardrobe, hoping the shadows would hide her from the storm.
Go to the shop and get a packet of crisps, her father barked late one night, his voice a low growl. She refused, terrified of the darkness outside, and his fists clenched at the thought of her failing to run fast enough.
Ask neighbour Rosie for a few pounds, beg her if you have to. Were out of cash, you hear? her mother snapped, pushing Emily toward the door.
When Emily turned sixteen, she learned to slip out while her parents were drunk. In Year10 she no longer feared the night; she simply fled to the abandoned farmhouse on the edge of the village, hid there until dawn, then raced home, snatching her textbooks and sprinting to school.
One night she made a promise to herself:
After I finish school Ill get my certificates and leave Littleford. Ill head for Manchester, maybe get into a college. I have to start saving, penny by penny, pound by pound, she whispered, tucking away whatever spare change she could scrounge.
When the school certificate finally arrived riddled with mediocre marks Emily stuffed a hidden passport and the few pounds shed managed to hoard into a battered backpack and boarded the bus to the county town, saying nothing to anyone. She wanted a fresh start, a proper family, a life that wasnt just surviving.
Manchester greeted her coldly. She found a college, handed over her documents, and was told that hundreds applied and that her grades were too low for admission. Paying tuition was out of the question she had nothing but a few coins. Deflated, Emily sank onto a bench outside the bus stop, watching the world rush past.
Everyone seemed to have a purpose, she thought, people hurrying to jobs, to meetings, to somewhere. I have nowhere to go. Im broke, and I cant go back home who knows what awaits me there? I cant stay here either. The sky darkened, and a plump, elderly woman with a small canvas bag approached.
Love, why are you sitting out here? Ive seen you drift in and out of the shop all day. Something wrong? the woman asked, eyes soft.
Ive come from a village. I thought Id get into college, but they turned me down. My grades are terrible, I cant afford tuition, Emily choked out, tears streaming. I have no one here, and Im scared to go home. My parents are always drunk. Im afraid Ill end up like them.
The woman smiled gently. Im Mrs. Nina Semenova, but you can call me Nina. I left my own home years ago; my daughter walked out on me and left me with nothing. I work as a cleaner now, live in a hall of residence, and I cant stand to see a girl like you out here in the cold.
Emily, though hesitant, felt a strange trust in Ninas voice. As they walked toward the student halls, Emily told her story.
My daughter, Tania, used to be a railway conductor. She met a businessman and begged me for money to start a venture with him. I had only my gardens veg, a goat, a few chickens, and a modest cottage back in the village. I sold the cottage, gave her a little for a rainy day, but the man vanished and Tania disappeared. I ended up as a cleaner at the station and got this cramped room in the hall, Nina recounted, eyes flashing with a mixture of regret and resolve. I could tell theres something off about you, dear.
In the tiny hall room, Emily ate a tasteless piece of bread. Nina laid out a plan.
Tomorrow morning Ill take you to the café manager near the station. They always need bright, young faces. Youre pretty, youve got spirit. If you impress Anton, the owner, he might give you a room in the hall as well. Maybe fate will finally smile on you.
Emily thanked Nina, her heart pounding with a mixture of hope and fear, and fell into a restless sleep.
The next day, Anton, a cleanshaven man with an easy grin, hired Emily as a waitress. He gave her a modest room, slipped her tiny giftslipstick, mascara, cheap perfumewhen he thought she wasnt looking. Emily, who had never dated anyone before, fell head over heels at the very first glance.
Hop in the car, love, Anton said one evening as she left work, his voice warm. Ill give you a lift home. Youre exhausted, you deserve a ride.
Emilys cheeks flushed, a strange warmth spreading through her. Is this my lucky break? Is this the start of a bright new chapter? she thought, the city lights blurring past.
Weeks later, a lanky driver named Max Whitaker knocked on her hall door.
Hey, you live here? he asked.
Yes, up on the second floor, Emily replied.
Im Max, a longhaul trucker. I grew up in a village too and came to the city for money, but Ill return eventually. Never seen you before, he said, offering a chocolate bar.
Emily listened, wondering if the countryside would ever feel like home again. Their conversations stayed friendly; Max sensed she was enamoured with Anton and kept his distance.
Anton eventually rented a flat for their secret meetings. One night, after a quiet dinner, he whispered, Emily, Im married, but I love you. Ill make sure you never lack anything. Come summer, Ill take you to the seaside.
Emily, intoxicated by his attention, clung to his words, ignoring the fact that he already had a wife and children.
Months later, Emily discovered she was pregnant. Ecstatic, she rushed to Antons doorstep, throwing her arms around his neck.
Anton, were going to have a baby! she exclaimed.
His face hardened. I told you I have a familytwo kids. I dont want another child. Take this, he spat, slamming a wad of cash on the table, and disappear within three days, or Ill make sure everyone knows what we did. He slammed the door, leaving Emily trembling.
The words Nina had spoken echoed in her mind: many chase the city for happiness, but only few ever find it.
Emily gathered her few belongings, tossed the key into a postbox, and fled back to the hall. Nina soothed her with tea.
Ah, love, thats how fate toys with us, Nina murmured. Men are often careless. Dont weep. Youll have a child, and that child will be yours, regardless of his father. Life throws these curveballs, but it also tests your strength. Hold on, and maybe fate will finally lend you a helping hand.
Emily, exhausted, fell asleep on the worn sofa.
In the morning, Max burst in, eyes bright.
Emily, you back? I got some groceries, thought youd need them, he said, setting down bags.
She burst into tears, half laughing, half sobbing. Max handed her a cup of tea, his presence steady.
Stop crying, love. Youve been hurt, but you still have a future. Ill get you food, and well sort this out together, he promised, his voice warm.
Later, Max slipped away, locking the door behind him. Emily drifted off, only to awaken to Max returning with sacks of food, placing them on the tiny kitchen table. She watched his efficient movements, a faint smile forming.
She recalled Ninas words again: fate would eventually stretch a hand.
Time passed. Emily and Max settled in his hometown of Ashford, buying a modest cottage that Max was renovatingadding a second floor in anticipation of a growing family. Their daughter, Lily, was born, and Maxs son, Jack, now three, lived nearby. Together they built a simple, happy life, far from the grim streets of Manchester, finally finding the peace that had always seemed out of reach.
