Get out of here, village folk!
Beggars have no place at my birthday party in a fine restaurant, my mother-in-law barked as she had my parents marched out the door but what happened next stunned everyoneit beggared belief.
So, who have we got here?
Farmhands? Miriam Campbell swept her gaze over my parents as if shed discovered slugs in her oysters.
Security!
Get these people out now.
I wont have that sort at my birthday, not here at The Mayfair!
Mum turned pale and grabbed Dads arm.
Dad clenched his jaw in silenceI recognised the look.
That steely glare hed once given a drunken neighbour who tried to snatch my bike when I was a child.
Miriam, those are my parents, I stood, my knees trembling.
I invited them.
Then take them back home to theirwhats your quaint village called?
Little Bramley?
Bumbleford? she sneered.
Look at them!
Your fathers in a charity shop suit and your mothergood Lord, is that a dress from the Sunday Market for twenty-five quid?
Fifteen years ago, Id arrived in London from a tiny town with one battered suitcase and big dreams.
My parents sold Bessie, our family cow, to cover my first year in halls.
Mum cried at the station, pressing her last fifty pounds into my hand just in case.
Dad hugged me and whispered, Study hard, love.
We know you can do it.
I studied as if my life depended on ituniversity by day, jobs by night.
Waitress, leaflet girl, courieranything so I wouldnt need to ask them for help.
I knew every penny mattered at home.
Mum worked as a hospital cleaner, Dad was a fitter at the local factorywhen it was open, that is.
Eventually I met Thomas.
Handsome, confident, from fine stock.
I fell headlong in love.
He wooed me with restaurants, flowers, little gifts.
When he proposed, I couldnt believe my luck.
Just no small-town wedding, please, he said at the time.
Mum will sort everything out, andwell, well introduce her to your folks some other time.
Some other time stretched on for three years.
So Miriam threw herself a lavish sixtieth at The Mayfairtwo hundred guests, a Michelin chef, live band.
I begged Tom to let my parents come.
Just this once, I pleaded.
Mums so excited, she even bought a new dress.
All right, but warn them, he gave in at last.
No country bumpkin business.
Theyre to sit quietly and not shame us.
My parents travelled by coachfourteen hours on the road.
I wanted to collect them at Victoria, but Miriam kicked off: Youre abandoning your duties for a pair of hicks?
Mum wore her best dressa royal blue with a lace collar shed saved up for over six months.
Dad had dusted off the only suit he owned, the one from their wedding day.
They entered the hall tentatively, eyes wide.
I went to greet them, but Miriam cut me off.
Is security asleep? she clicked her fingers.
I said get these paupers out.
In English, for the slow ones.
Were not beggars, Dad took a step forward.
Were Emilys parents.
Here to wish you a happy birthday.
Parents?! Miriam shrieked.
Tom, look at this circus!
Your wifes brought the yokels in!
Thats the stock you want your children to come from?
Country blood!
The room fell silent.
Two hundred faces stared at my mum and dad.
Mum clutched her little presenta hand-embroidered tablecloth shed been working on for three monthsto her chest, tears welling.
Dad gently put his arm around her.
Lets go, Grace, he murmured.
Were not wanted.
Wait! I snapped from my trance.
Mum, Dad, dont go!
Emily, you choose, Tom said, cold as ice.
Either your family leaves, or you go with them.
For good.
I looked at my husband.
At Miriam, grinning like a wicked witch.
At the gaping crowd.
Then at my parentsMum trying to hold back tears, Dads hands trembling.
Suddenly everything was clear.
You know what, Miriam? I crossed to my parents and took their arms.
Shove your fancy party.
My parents raised me to be honest.
They sold our last cow so I could study.
What have you ever done?
Except marry someone rich.
How dare you! Miriam screeched.
Oh, I dare! I slipped off my wedding ring and dropped it in front of a stunned Tom.
Three years I put up with you and your sneers.
I lied to my parents, told them youd welcome us.
My mums worth ten of you!
Shes worked night and day to keep us fed, while all you do is blow someone elses money on designer handbags and botox.
Emily, stop this nonsense! barked Tom.
Youll regret this!
The only thing I regret is wasting three years on you two, I spat, facing the room.
You lotjust a herd of sheep!
Carry onstuff your faces and laugh at decent folk.
Shame on you.
The three of us walked out.
Mum was still sniffling.
Dad said nothing.
At the entrance, I glanced backthe hall crackled with silence.
Miriam was crimson, Toms mouth hung open.
Em, what have you done? Mum whispered, clutching my hand.
Go back, apologise!
Where will you even live?
With you, Mum.
At home.
Back to Little Bramley, I drew them both into a hug.
Im sorry I ever tried to hide you, or didnt stand my ground.
You daft thing, Dad finally smiled.
Nothing to forgive.
We knew youd come right in the end.
We piled into Dads ancient Ford Escortthe surprise theyd hoped to spring on me.
Mum pulled out a flask of tea and sandwiches made with home-cooked ham.
I said theyd serve nothing decent in that place, she smiled, handing me a sandwich.
Eat up, love.
Its a long drive.
I took a bite, and tears streamed down my face.
Id never tasted anything so good.
A month later, Tom turned up in Little Bramley, hovering at the gate.
Mum wanted to call me, but Dad put a hand on her arm.
Let him be.
Weve no use for that sortnot now.
Tom left empty-handed.
Six months on, I heard Miriam had been admitted to hospital after her husband left her for a young secretary.
Tom lost his allowance and became a car salesman.
Me?
I opened a little tearoom in the village.
Mum helped bake, Dad redecorated.
By weekends, half the town turned up for tea and cake.
And you know what?
I was happier than Id ever been.
Last night, Mum said, Its a good thing, really, my girl.
Youd changed in that restaurant.
Didnt recognise you.
But youre our Emily again now.
And I hugged herbreathing in the smell of real bread and home.
In the end, lifes richest moments arent in grand restaurants, but with those who love you for who you are, not what you have.
