There was no joy without its share of sorrows…
“How could you be so careless, you fool! Who needs you now, with a child on the way? How do you plan to raise it? Don’t look to me for help, I’ve already done my bit raising you. Pack your things and make sure I never see you in my house again!”
Emma listened to the shouting without looking up. Her last hope that her aunt might let her stay until she found a job vanished before her eyes. “If only Mum were alive…”
Emma never knew her father, and her mother had been killed by a drunk driver on a crosswalk fifteen years ago. The local authorities were ready to place her in a foster home when a distant relative, a cousin of her mother, unexpectedly stepped forward to take her in. Thanks to having her own house and a stable salary, her aunt could assume guardianship without any hassle.
Emma’s aunt lived on the edge of a southern English town, lush and warm in summer, rainy in winter. Emma was always well-fed, neatly dressed, and had plenty of chores. Living in a house with a yard and a few pets meant there was never a shortage of work. While she might have lacked motherly warmth, it wasn’t something that seemed to matter to anyone.
Emma excelled at her studies. After finishing school, she was accepted into a teacher training college. Her lively college years flew by, and soon carefree times were over; exams had been completed, and Emma returned to the town that felt like home. This time, however, the return wasn’t as cheerful.
Having finished scolding her, Emma’s aunt calmed down a bit: “That’s it, out of my sight. I don’t want to see you around here.”
“Aunt Liz, couldn’t I at least…?”
“No, I told you already!”
Emma quietly picked up her suitcase and left. Little did she think she’d return here in such a disgraceful state, feeling rejected and pregnant. Though it was early in her pregnancy, Emma decided to be honest about her condition. She didn’t want to, and couldn’t, hide it.
She needed to find a place to live. Lost in her thoughts, Emma walked on, oblivious to the world around her.
The English summer was in full bloom. Apples and pears ripened in gardens, golden apricots gleamed, grapevines bore heavy clusters, and plums, purple-red, hid beneath dark resilient leaves. Sweet scents of homemade jam, roasted meat, and freshly baked bread wafted through garden gates. Emma was parched and approached a gate, calling out to a woman near an outdoor kitchen.
“Could you spare some water, ma’am?”
Maureen, a robust woman in her fifties, turned at the sound of Emma’s voice. “Come on in, if you mean well.” She ladled some water from a bucket and handed it over. Emma sat wearily on a bench, taking a grateful sip.
“May I rest here for a while, it’s so hot.”
“Of course, dear. Where are you from? I see you have a suitcase.”
“I just finished college, looking for a teaching job. But I’ve nowhere to stay. Do you know anyone who rents rooms?”
Maureen eyed Emma carefully. Clean and tidy, but with a look of someone worn out and preoccupied.
“You can stay here if you like; might be a nice change for me too. I won’t charge much, but the agreement is you pay on time. If you’re willing, I’ll show you the room.”
Emma was delighted about having found a place to stay. Despite being a small town far from the county hub, a bit of extra money was always welcome. Maureen’s son lived far away and visited rarely, so this arrangement would bring some company for the long winter evenings.
Still in disbelief at her sudden stroke of luck, Emma followed Maureen. The room was small but cozy, with a window looking out into the garden, a table, chairs, a bed, and an old wardrobe. It would suffice. They quickly settled on the rent, and Emma headed to the education office to apply for a job.
Days flew by in a blur of work and home. Time seemed to pass so quickly, Emma hardly noticed it flying by. She bonded with Maureen, who turned out to be kind and attentive. Emma was welcomed into her home. As she could, Emma helped with household chores, and they often enjoyed tea together in the garden. Fortunate they were in the south where the chill of autumn came late.
Emma’s pregnancy progressed smoothly. She had no morning sickness, her complexion remained clear, although she’d gained noticeable weight. She shared her simple story with Maureen, one among countless similar tales in this life.
In her second year, Emma had fallen for Daniel—a handsome guy, the only child of well-off parents, who were also teachers at their university. They didn’t want him moving to a city far away; his path was predetermined: study, enter postgraduate school, then a teaching career or academia, all close to home.
Charismatic and sociable, Daniel was always the life of the party, popular among the girls. Many would have liked to befriend him, but he turned his attention to Emma. Perhaps it was her shy smile, her warm brown eyes, or her slender frame with slightly curly hair? Or maybe he sensed in her a kindred spirit, the inner resilience that some people possess, the ability to endure life’s trials. Whatever it was, their remaining years at school were spent as a pair, the future gleaming with happiness—next to Daniel.
Emma remembered the day vividly. That morning she was suddenly struck by the realization she couldn’t stomach food, that certain smells were intolerable, that she’d been inexplicably nauseous for days. Most importantly, she’d missed her period! How could she have forgotten to notice this? After buying a test from the pharmacy, she returned to her dorm, drank a glass of water, and waited. Sure enough, two lines appeared. She stared, still disbelieving, but yes, they were there. Exams loomed, yet here it was—pregnancy! How would Daniel take the news? Children hadn’t been part of their immediate plans.
An unexpected wave of tenderness for the small being within overtook her.
“Little one…” Emma whispered, gently touching her belly.
Hearing everything, Daniel decided to introduce Emma to his parents that evening. Recalling that meeting, Emma couldn’t hold back tears. Briefly, she recounted how Daniel’s parents suggested she have an abortion, and after passing her exams, she should leave town—alone. Daniel had his career to think about, and they weren’t a match.
Emma could only guess what conversation transpired between him and his parents. The next day, Daniel silently entered her room, laid an envelope of money on the table, and left without a word.
Emma had no intention of an abortion. She already held love for the tiny being growing inside her. It was her child, and hers alone. But they would have a hard time without help. After careful consideration, Emma chose to accept Daniel’s money, realizing she would need it desperately.
Hearing Emma’s story, Maureen offered sincere sympathy: “These things happen, love. It’s not the worst the world can throw at you. You’re brave not to abort, to save a little soul. A child isn’t at fault for the way they enter the world. You’ll find comfort in your baby, and who knows, things may turn for the better.”
But Emma couldn’t entertain thoughts of reconciliation with Daniel. Her feelings reversed utterly. The memory of his rejection, without any attempt to communicate, was too fresh. Time passed, and Emma stopped working, waddling around, eagerly waiting for her baby’s arrival. Only a few days left until she’d find out if she would have a boy or a girl.
Finally, one Saturday in late February, her contractions began, and Maureen took her to the hospital. Labor went smoothly, and Emma gave birth to a healthy, strong baby boy.
“Harry, my little Harry,” she whispered, stroking his chubby cheek.
Emma befriended the other women in the ward. They told her that two days ago, the wife of the local border patrol commander had given birth to a girl here—as it turned out, they weren’t even married officially, just living together.
“Could you imagine, he showered her with flowers! He brought whiskey and chocolates for the nurses and visited in his jeep every day. But there was trouble; she kept saying she never wanted kids and ended up pregnant by accident, eventually abandoning the baby and running off. She left a note saying she wasn’t ready for children. Can you believe it?”
“And what about the baby?”
“They’re feeding her with a bottle, but the nurse said it’d be better if someone breastfed her. Who’d agree to that, though? People have their own children to care for.”
During feeding time, they brought in the girl.
“Would anyone feed her? She’s so frail,” the nurse looked hopefully at the young mothers.
“Give her to me, poor thing,” Emma carefully placed her sleeping son back on the bed and took the little girl.
“Oh, she’s so tiny and fair! I’ll call her Rosie.”
Compared to sturdy little Harry, the girl was indeed petite and delicate, looking like nothing more than a fragile blossom. Emma nursed the baby, who eagerly suckled but soon drifted off to sleep.
“Told you, she’s weak,” the nurse remarked.
So Emma nursed both children. A couple of days later, the nurse informed Emma that the girl’s father wished to meet the woman nursing his daughter. And thus, Emma met Captain Graham Williams, commander of the border patrol—a man of medium height with a firm gaze and striking blue eyes.
The ensuing events at the hospital’s maternity ward, and later throughout the town, were recounted with relish by everyone because the ending of this unlikely tale was quite memorable. On the day Emma was discharged, the staff gathered on the doorstep where a jeep, adorned with blue and pink balloons, awaited.
A young officer with captain stripes helped Emma into the car, where Maureen was already seated, and handed her the blue bundle, followed by the pink one. With a final honk, the vehicle departed, soon disappearing around the bend.
It’s fascinating how our actions can have such unforeseen repercussions, as life sometimes presents surprises one could never invent…
