I never spoiled my son. He did well at school, helped around the house, and was always a polite, proper lad. When Edward announced he was setting off to work, my heart felt heavy with worry. I wasnt ready for an empty home.
And what about Emily? I asked him, referring to his sweetheart.
Weve broken up, he replied, an unexpected cloud between us.
Id always pictured them getting marriedthey seemed such a perfect pair. Though it saddened me to see their relationship end, I kept my nose out of it.
Off Edward went. We kept in touch often; he found himself a job and new friends, and before long, new love. He mentioned her often, but seemed in no rush for introductions. Feeling the silence of our little terrace house, I took in a tabby kitten and fussed over her.
One fog-thick night, returning home, I heard a hushed, Hello? drifting from the hedge.
In the lamplight, Emilys figure materialised, pale and shaky, cradling a baby.
Emily? Why are you here, love? Whose babys that? I asked, bewildered.
Her voice trembled. You might judge me, but shes your granddaughter. I couldnt bring myself to tell Edward about the baby. We ended on harsh words, and I went home to Mum in Leeds. Mum passed away last month and theres no one left. II just turned up here. If something happens to me, please visit her, just dont let her be alone.
I shook my head, gathered myself, and said, Dont talk nonsense. Well manage, you and I. The child needs us both. Come on inside.
I took them in. The little girls resemblance to Edward washed away any doubts. Emily pitched in with the housework, and my job at the local library kept us comfortable; we muddled through well enough. Then, out of the blue, Edward phoned to say he was coming to visit. Whether alone or not, he wouldnt say.
The day he arrived, I was giving the little one her tea. He strode in, took it all in at once, and grinned. And whos this cherub?
Edward, this is your daughter. No sooner had I finished than he said, Im not by myself either. And he wheeled in a pram.
And who might this be? I asked.
My son. His mumshe died soon after he was born. I couldnt give him up.
Emily appeared in the doorway, eyes wide. She and Edward spoke alone for hours, the kettle boiling over in the background while memories stirred. I left them be.
Time passed strangely, like in all dreams, and a year later, Emily and Edward were married. The children thrived, growing together with us all under one roof.
Now, Edward is building a bigger house to escape the cramped terrace. And, just between us, soon Ill welcome my third grandchild. Life is uncanny and wondrousa proper dream come true.
