Emily quickly surveyed their cottage. Everything seemed in order, the children’s bows were tied neatly, and young Fred’s face was clean. Margaret, her mother-in-law, sat primly on the settee, also dressed up. Last night, Liam had called, saying he’d arrive today, not alone but with a surprise.
Oh, how Emily rushed home from the market, the only place with a landline, to prepare. It had been nearly two months since Liam left. He decided it was time to earn real money and found a job in the city.
Em had pleaded then, tears in her eyes:
—Liam, what kind of life is this? You’re in the city, and we’re stuck here with the kids, alone.
—Don’t cry like it’s permanent, love. You know the roof leaks, the girls start school this year, and there’s no work here.
—I know, I know, but it doesn’t feel right. Maybe we should all go with you.
He gently pushed her away.
—Em, for heaven’s sake, think! It’s cheaper and easier for me alone. If we all moved, everything I earned would go to rent, and you know how costly things are in the city!
She knew he was right. The money was needed, getting the whole family to town made no sense. At least she had a part-time job here and a home. Her heart ached, but she let him go.
By the end of the month, her first transfer from him arrived. Emily put on her best dress when she went to the post office, determined to show everyone. The gossips in the village claimed Liam had left her for good, that he’d never needed a wife and three children. By ensuring she arrived when half the village was queuing for pensions, she shut their mouths. The sighs and envious glances were worth it, at least she thought so.
Yesterday, Liam called. Excited but also nervous about his surprise. It didn’t matter, though. As long as he was coming home! She lit the fireplace for a traditional bath, eager to have him soaked and close, despite the kids being in the house.
Margaret, ever sharp-tongued, watched her with a smirk.
—What’s this hopping about like a goat? The prodigal son is returning, is it?
—Margaret, please! He’s your son, and he’s trying to provide for us.
—Oh, Em! Don’t pretend, he’s not earning a living here, is he?
Emily sighed. Margaret had a point. Men in the village had jobs, but Liam claimed it was foolish to stay for such meager wages. He’d slouched around the house, a storekeeper part-time, barely earning anything. Emily refused to dwell on it. He was different now, working for them in the city.
—Mum! Dad’s back!
Emily checked her reflection in the mirror. Everything was fine. She had to maintain her dignity in front of Liam and the curious neighbors.
Stepping outside, she froze. Liam stood on the path, and his surprise—tall at about six feet, her bright red lipstick replaced by a woman’s bold hair, long and auburn.
Emily felt the stares. Liam wrenched open the gate, ushering the woman inside.
—Hello, Em.
The woman sneered as she met Emily’s eyes.
—Hello, Liam. What’s this?
He smiled awkwardly.
—This is Antonia… Well, I’ve decided to marry her.
Emily felt her heart plummet.
—What about me? The children?
He winced.
—Em, no dramatics on the path. Let’s go in and talk.
Margaret, at the doorway, growled:
—Enough of this! Get back in your car, all of you!
Liam, stunned, stared at his mother.
—Mum, are you ejecting me from my own house?
—I have no son.
She turned and hobbled inside. From the village came murmurs:
—Right move, Margaret. Fling that wretch.
Liam stood frozen in the yard, Antonia tugging at him.
—Liam, I didn’t think we could sell the house, you said it was yours!
Emily barely avoided collapsing. The cottage was indeed Liam’s. Before their marriage, Margaret had given it as a wedding gift, a sturdy stone home built by Liam’s late father.
He grabbed Antonia and fled, her high heels sinking into the damp soil as she struggled.
Emily collapsed onto the bed. The children rushed to her, upset.
—Mum, don’t cry.
She thought the world had ended, but worse was yet to come.
A week later, a car—a sleek black estate unseen in the village—pulled up. A man and a younger man stepped out. The younger approached Emily.
—Are you Mrs. Thompson?
—Yes.
—You must vacate the house immediately.
Emily blinked.
—Excuse me? The house is mine!
—It belonged to Liam Thompson. He sold it. Here are the documents. The new family will arrive tomorrow.
The neighbors gathered, demanding answers.
—What has Liam done? Leaving them homeless?
—Out!
The man glanced around.
—This is legal, folks! Here’s proof! I’m just a broker!
A constable arrived, dispersing the crowd. After a long discussion, Margaret and Emily sat stunned on the porch, the girls weeping. The eldest, Fred, stared silently, the twins clinging to their grandmother.
The constable sighed.
—Liam did legally sell the house. You could challenge it in court…
The broker handed Emily a list of furniture to remain. As he left, Margaret whispered:
—Come, Em. My house is big enough. I only use one room. Maybe it’s time I shared.
The villagers silently helped move their belongings.
A year passed.
—Em, look at the girls’ achievements!
Emily smiled, returning from the school where Marigold and Vivien had finished their first term. She carried a stack of certificates. Margaret and her old friend, Miss Bell, beamed at the papers. The house had become a true home, and their bond with Margaret was now unbreakable.
One day, Fred burst in:
—Mum, Dad’s back!
Emily’s heart raced.
—Dad?
Outside, Liam stood at the garden gate, suitcase in hand.
Two years ago, Antonia had dumped him when his money ran out. Realizing his mistake, he’d tried to return but had no home. Jobs failed, and now he’d come, desperate for forgiveness.
Emily descended the stairs, Margaret and the girls following.
—What do you want?
Liam flinched. He’d never seen her so stern.
—But, Em, aren’t you glad to see your children’s father?
Emily gripped the handle of her garden fork.
—Where’s the table? The fire? You must be starving.
He stepped forward.
—Let me in, feed me, warm me up.
Emily smiled.
—Why not?
And with the fork held high, she chased him through the village lane, the villagers cheering.
Later, they gathered in the kitchen. Emily opened the cake she’d bought for the girls’ graduation.
—Come on, everyone. It’s about being a family, after all.
