“Hello, Emily”
The phone buzzed, and Emily picked it up to hear her best friend’s excited voice.
“Em, hi! What are you up to?”
“Just got home from work. Is everything okay? Sorry, I’m exhausted—it’s been a mad day,” Emily sighed.
“I’m just reminding you about my birthday tomorrow! Seven o’clock at The Crown. No excuses, you’re coming. See you then.” Before Emily could protest, Jessica had already hung up.
“Who was that?” Her mum hovered in the doorway, pretending she hadn’t been listening.
“You already heard,” Emily muttered. Her mum pursed her lips. “It was Jess. She’s invited me to her birthday dinner.”
“Pity you didn’t buy that blue dress—it would’ve been perfect.” The disapproval in her voice was palpable.
“Mum, I completely forgot about it. Haven’t even got her a gift. Honestly, I don’t even feel like going. I’ll congratulate her another time.”
“Another time? Jessica’s your only real friend, and you’d rather offend her? You’ll end up alone at this rate. Don’t worry, I’ll pick up a gift tomorrow. Go, have fun for once—all you think about is work. You’re nearly thirty, and no husband, no kids. Not even a proper relationship!”
“What’s that got to do with anything? I’m twenty-seven, not thirty!”
“Twenty-seven is already twenty-seven. Jess has loads of admirers. Maybe she’ll introduce you to someone,” her mum grumbled.
“Feels like you’re desperate to get rid of me, like Gran used to say.” Emily didn’t bother hiding her irritation.
“What’s wrong with that? Your old classmates’ kids are nearly finishing school…”
“Well, Jess isn’t married either, despite her queue of admirers,” Emily retorted.
“Oh, she’ll get married, don’t you worry. But you…”
“Here we go.” Emily rolled her eyes. Her mum had dug up the same old, painful argument.
“Next, you’ll say you’re about to drop dead, and I’m still not settled.”
“I’m not planning on dying yet, but time’s ticking. I’d like to enjoy being a grandmother while I still can.”
“For heaven’s sake, Mum, you’re only fifty-three!”
“Exactly. Soon I’ll retire, and still no grandchildren. So you’re going tomorrow. Oh—the roast’s burning!” Her mum dashed to the kitchen.
The next evening, Emily walked into The Crown, clutching a gift bag. She wore the blue dress her mum had insisted on, her hair curled and loose just as instructed. She felt awkward, like Alice suddenly thrust into adulthood. She was late thanks to yet another row with her mum.
The restaurant buzzed with chatter, every table full. Waiters in crisp black aprons weaved between them. The noise hit Emily like a wave.
“Are you joining a booking or meeting someone?” A host in a sharp suit appeared beside her, wearing a practised smile.
“My friend’s birthday… Jess Holloway?” Emily mumbled, as if she didn’t belong there.
“This way.” He led her to a table where Jess sat with two men. One, Oliver Whitmore—banker’s son—she recognised. The other, dressed more casually, looked slightly lost. Of course. Jess had roped him in for Emily.
“Finally!” Jess hissed as the host pulled out a chair. “We’ve already ordered. You look fab, by the way.”
Emily wished the floor would swallow her. She apologised for being late, handed over the gift, which Jess barely glanced at before setting it aside.
Oliver poured champagne. “Just a splash,” Emily warned. “I’m on night shift later.”
“Emily’s a nurse,” Jess announced, with exaggerated pride.
After a toast, the food arrived. Jess leaned in. “Meet Daniel. He’s a sailor—can you believe it?”
“Commercial fleet?” Oliver asked.
“Fishing trawler,” Daniel muttered.
“Must pay well?”
“Can’t complain.”
“Sounds rough—months at sea, no pubs, no girls. How do you lot not lose your minds?” Oliver refilled the glasses.
“Too tired after watch to think about girls.”
Daniel ate heartily, answering questions but never looking at Emily. No surprise—Jess was the one who always got the attention.
When the band started playing, Jess dragged Oliver to dance. Emily excused herself soon after, saying she needed to change for work.
“Daniel, walk Emily home,” Jess ordered, like a queen bestowing favours.
“No, really, it’s fine—”
“Nonsense!” Jess gave Daniel a pointed look.
Outside, Emily turned sharply. “You don’t have to. I live close.”
“I’m walking you,” he insisted.
“Fine.”
At her doorstep, she stopped. “Goodnight.”
“I fly to Aberdeen in two days. Need to clear medical before the next haul,” he said abruptly, peering at the building. “Which flat’s yours?”
“Safe travels.” She marched inside without answering. When she glanced back, he was gone.
“Who was that?” Her mum pounced the second she stepped in.
“You saw.” Emily kicked off her heels with relief.
“I just happened to look out the window.”
“Yeah, ‘happened’.”
“So? Who was he?”
“One of Jess’s admirers.”
Later, Jess admitted she’d invited Daniel for Emily’s sake. “You should be grateful, Em. I’m looking out for you.”
Summer bled into autumn. One November night, a battered young man was wheeled into A&E with a broken arm and concussion. Emily recognised Daniel straight away.
“What happened? Should we call the police?” the doctor asked.
“Nah. Got back from sea, went to see my girl—turns out she’s engaged. Her bloke didn’t like me showing up.”
“Lucky she was pretty, then,” the doctor joked.
“Tell me, Doc—do girls just not know how to wait? Or is it me?”
“Ask Emily. She’s the expert.”
“You’re ashore two months, then six at sea?” Emily said.
“About that.”
“Girls don’t get time to love you. And sailors aren’t known for sticking to one port.”
Daniel sighed. “Mum’s on at me to settle down.”
Emily laughed. “Mine too. She dreams of me in white.”
“I’ll do a couple more hauls, save for a flat, then I’m done.” His eyes lingered on her.
Over the next days, Daniel shadowed her during shifts, helping where he could. One night, she found his bed empty.
“Your sailor got discharged,” a colleague said. “Asked when you’re next on. He’s smitten, Em.”
When she left work that evening, Daniel was waiting, holding roses.
“Fancy the cinema?”
“I’m dead on my feet.”
“Fine. Plenty of other girls, right?”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“We met seven months ago, and you didn’t remember me.”
He looked genuinely baffled. “When?”
“At The Crown. Jess introduced us.”
“Jess, yeah—but not you. Sorry.”
At her doorstep again, he shivered in the cold. “You sat out here all night?”
“Nah, just wanted to catch you. It’s your day off. Cinema?”
“You love films that much?”
“Yeah. Used to watch ’em over and over as a kid. After Dad died, money was tight—had to help Mum with my little sister. Bought a laptop after my first haul, but nothing beats the big screen.”
She dashed into the shop, half-thinking he’d left—but he waited outside, snow-dusted and shivering.
“You look like a stray puppy. Pneumonia’s the last thing you need.” She hurried home, Daniel trailing.
“Need a written invitation?” she snapped when he hesitated at the door.
Inside, she called, “Mum, meet your future son-in-law!”
After tea and pancakes, Daniel explained his life—dropping out of uni after his dad’s death, joining the navy, then the trawlers to support his family. When he left, Emily’s mum turned on her.
“What more do you want? He’s solid gold. Don’t be daft.”
Emily didn’t plan to push him away. His stories of Arctic storms and whales fascinated her. They went to the cinema, and his boyish enthusiasm was infectious. Then his cast came off, and a month later, he left for Aberdeen.
Before he went, he gave her a tiny ring. “A sailor who’s waited for fears no storm,” he said.
She counted the days till his return. When he came back, he found a job ashore, bought a flat, and brought her home to it. Both mums were thrilled, already asking about grandchildren.
Jess was maid of honour at their wedding.
“Lucky you, Em. How’d I miss that one? Could’ve been me. ThoughtFive years later, on a crisp autumn morning, Emily rocked their newborn daughter to sleep, smiling as Daniel whispered, “She’s got your eyes, love.”
