Rain drummed against the roof of the countryside cottage when Evelyn Thompson heard a timid knock at the door. She set aside her knitting and listened. The knock came again—hesitant, almost apologetic.
“Who’s there?” she called, walking to the door.
“Please, let me in,” came a faint woman’s voice. “I’m lost…”
Evelyn opened the door a crack, still on the chain. On the doorstep stood a woman in her mid-twenties, soaked to the bone. Dark hair clung to her face, her light jacket dripping wet. She clutched a small handbag.
“Good heavens, you’re drenched!” Evelyn unhooked the chain and swung the door wide. “Come in quickly before you catch your death!”
“Thank you so much,” the girl said, stepping inside and leaving puddles on the doormat. “I’m Emily. I was walking along the footpath, and it just… disappeared into the woods. My phone died, and now I’ve no idea where I am.”
“Get those wet things off right now!” Evelyn fussed, helping her out of the sodden jacket. “Look at the state of you! What on earth were you doing out alone in weather like this?”
Emily lowered her eyes.
“I had a row with my… my boyfriend. He made me get out of the car and told me to walk home. I didn’t realise how far it was to town…”
“Absolute scoundrel!” Evelyn huffed. “Leaving a young woman alone in the woods! Come to the kitchen—I’ll put the kettle on. You’re shivering.”
Emily followed her into the cosy little kitchen. Evelyn switched the electric kettle on and fetched a fluffy dressing gown from the cupboard.
“Here, change into this. We’ll hang your clothes on the radiator—they’ll be dry by morning. Where are you from?”
“Just outside the city,” Emily replied vaguely, gratefully accepting the robe. “I work in town, in an office.”
“Young people these days!” Evelyn shook her head. “Men used to have decency—wouldn’t dream of treating a woman like that. Sit down, love, I’ll fix you something to eat.”
She bustled at the stove, pulling eggs and butter from the fridge, frying up a quick meal. She sliced bread and laid out homemade pickles.
“Eat up, don’t be shy,” she said, setting the plate in front of Emily. “You look half-starved. When did you last eat?”
“A bite this morning,” Emily admitted, tucking in hungrily. “We’ve been driving all day, arguing…”
“What was the row about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Emily chewed her toast thoughtfully.
“He wanted us to move in together. But I’ve got my job, my own plans. I’m not ready yet. He got angry, said awful things…”
“Good for you, not rushing,” Evelyn nodded approvingly. “At your age, I did—married the first man who looked my way. Thought love would see us through. It didn’t. He left me with a baby boy, ran off with someone else.”
“You have a son?” Emily asked.
“Had,” Evelyn’s face darkened. “Grown now, with his own family. We don’t… get along. Hardly see him.”
She poured herself tea, stirring in sugar absently.
“Do you live here alone?” Emily asked carefully.
“Just me. This was my second husband’s place. Good man, passed too soon. These days I only come down in summer—not every year, either. Got a flat in town for the winters.”
Emily nodded, finishing her food. The rain had eased, but dusk was falling outside.
“Listen, love,” Evelyn said, “stay the night. I’ll walk you to the bus stop in the morning. No sense heading out in this weather now.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose…”
“Nonsense! Company’s welcome. The sofa in the lounge pulls out—clean sheets and all. Make yourself at home.”
They talked late into the evening. Emily spoke about her job at a retail firm, the struggles of renting in the city. Evelyn shared stories of her youth, sighing over loneliness.
“All my old friends have passed or moved away,” she murmured. “Neighbours round here are elderly too—always poorly. Gets lonely…”
“Why don’t you and your son get along?” Emily ventured.
Evelyn’s face tightened.
“His wife can’t stand me. Says I meddle. Can’t I ask after my own grandchildren? Now they don’t even invite me for holidays…”
The next morning brought clear skies. Evelyn packed Emily a little lunchbox and walked her to the bus stop.
“Thank you so much,” Emily said earnestly. “You really saved me!”
“Don’t be silly! Come visit anytime. Here, take the address.”
Emily typed it into her phone, waving from the bus window.
Weeks passed. Evelyn had nearly forgotten her unexpected guest when she heard that familiar knock again.
“Emily!” She beamed, opening the door. “How are you, love? Come in!”
“Could I stay a day or two?” Emily asked sheepishly. “My building’s being renovated—nowhere to live. Landlady said to stay with family, but I’ve got none…”
“Of course! Stay as long as you need. Brightens the place up.”
Emily settled into the little upstairs room. She helped with chores—cooking, cleaning. Evelyn adored having her around.
“Better than a daughter,” she told her neighbour, Doris. “Cook’s a dream, brilliant with knitting. Wish I’d a daughter-in-law like her…”
Days rolled by peacefully. Emily left for work each morning, returning in the evenings. They shared meals, watched telly, chatted about their days.
“Listen, love,” Evelyn said one night, “I’m making my will. Flat’ll go to my son, but this place… maybe to you? No one else wants it, and you’re happy here.”
Emily flushed.
“Don’t say that! It’s too soon. And it’s not right—you’ve got family.”
“Family who treat me like a stranger. You’re like my own.”
Time passed. Emily settled in as if she’d always been there. Evelyn bloomed under the care and company, the loneliness fading.
Then everything changed.
Evelyn was hospitalised after a heart attack. Emily visited daily, bringing treats, reading aloud.
“Doctor says you’ll be home soon,” Emily told her one visit. “You’ll recover better there.”
“Emily,” Evelyn whispered weakly, “there’s something in my bedside drawer—far back. Important papers. If anything happens…”
“Don’t talk like that!” Emily cut in. “You’ll be fine!”
But Evelyn worsened. Doctors muttered about surgery.
Emily returned from the hospital distressed. She opened the bedside drawer. Among the papers lay the will—the cottage was indeed left to her.
She sat holding the documents a long time. Then she took out her phone.
“Thomas? It’s Emily. We met… Yes, that’s right. Your mother’s in hospital. It’s serious. You should come.”
Next day, a man in his fifties arrived with his wife and two teens. Evelyn’s son had her grey eyes, her stubborn jaw.
“Where is she?” he demanded, barely over the threshold.
“Still in hospital. She’s having surgery,” Emily said.
“And who are you?” his wife cut in, eyeing her suspiciously.
“I’ve been staying here. Evelyn let me.”
“Right,” the woman scoffed. “Another stray.”
Thomas prowled the house, inspecting changes.
“Done well for herself,” he muttered. “New telly, fridge…”
“
