NEVER TOUCHED WHATS NOT MINE
Back when she was in school, Martha always looked down on Emily and, deep down, she envied her, too. Shed despise Emily for the fact that her parents were hopeless, hard-drinking sorts, scraping by on odd jobs and living hand to mouth. Emily was always in hand-me-downs, half-starved and with this air of being crushed by life. Her dad had a nasty temper and would hit her, either for drinking too much, or not enough, or for whatever reason he could find, really. Her mum never stood up for her; she was too terrified of her husbands heavy hand. Only Emilys gran was a glimmer of warmth in the girls life. Each month, shed scrape together a wage for her precious granddaughter from her tiny pension, rewarding Emily for good behaviour. In truth, even if Emily was up to mischief, Gran would turn a blind eye and pay up anyway. Five quid! For Emily, that was the best day ever. Straight to the corner shop shed dash to buy ice cream for her and Gran, some halva, and a few sweets. Every time, she meant to make those treats last all month, but somehow, by the end of the second day, they were all gone. Thats when her lovely gran would take out her own ice cream from the freezer and say, Go on, love, have mine my throats playing up. Emily always thought it odd how her grans throat only ever acted up when the sweets ran out. And secretly, she always hoped Gran would let her have a second helping.
Marthas family was the complete opposite. Their house had everything anyone could wish for. Her parents earned well and pampered her endlessly. Martha was always dressed in the latest high street fashion and her friends would sometimes borrow her clothes. She never wanted for anything, well-fed, kitted out, the works.
But Martha envied Emily her mesmerising beauty and a kind of unforced charm that drew everyone in, that easy warmth about her. Martha wouldnt even condescend to speak to Emily, thinking it beneath her, and when their paths crossed at school, Martha would flash her such a freezing look that Emily would feel doused in cold water. Once, in front of everyone, Martha scoffed, Youre pathetic! Emily ran home in tears and told her gran all about it. Gran sat her down, stroked her hair, and said, Dont cry, darling. Next time, just say: Youre right I belong to God! Emily instantly felt lighter.
Martha herself was attractive, but her beauty was a chilly, distant thing. Every girl in their class had a soft spot for Ben, though a total scamp and class clown who never cared a jot about his abysmal marks or getting into trouble. Somehow, Bens relentless cheer and optimism made even the strictest teachers like him, even as they peppered his report book with red marks and sent him out of class for one escapade or another.
In the later years, Ben began walking Martha home after school, and in the mornings, hed wait for her outside so they could go in together all while their classmates teased, Ooh, bride and groom! Even the teachers knew something sweet was blossoming between them.
The last school bell rang, prom whirled past, and just like that, everyone scattered to find their futures. Martha and Ben tied the knot in a hurry their love had left its mark and there was no hiding it, not even under layers of silk and lace. Five months later, Martha had a baby girl, Sophie.
Emily, after finishing school, went straight to work. Her beloved Gran had passed on, and her parents expected her to chip in. Suitors came and went, but none who truly touched her heart. Plus, Emily was embarrassed by her parents drinking, so she didnt rush things.
Time hurtled on. Ten years went by.
One day, outside the addiction clinic, Emily and her mum stood waiting and so did Ben and Martha. Emily recognised Ben at once hed grown into a fine man. But Martha it was heartbreaking. She was so thin, her hands shaking, eyes dulled, looking ancient but she was only just twenty-eight. Ben shot Emily an apologetic smile. Hi, old classmate. You could tell he hadnt wanted anyone witnessing his pain, especially Emily.
Hello, Ben. Trouble at home? Emily sized up the situation instantly.
Been going on for ages, Ben admitted, embarrassed.
A woman who drinks is disaster, Emily said quietly. I know from my own mum. Dad, he just drank himself into the grave.
Afterwards, Ben and Emily swapped numbers in case they needed to talk. A shared struggle is an easier burden to bear. Pretty soon, Ben would stop by to chat, keen to draw on Emilys hard-won wisdom: how to handle loved ones who drink, what help was actually worth trying, and what was a dead end. Emily, sadly, knew all too well: more men drown in a bottle than in the sea
Turned out, Ben and his daughter Sophie had been living alone for some time. Martha had gone back to her parents and Ben had cut her off from Sophie because shed become dangerously unpredictable. The final straw was when Ben came home from work to find Martha passed out drunk on the floor and three-year-old Sophie teetering on the fifth-floor windowsill, ready to fall god knows how many storeys below. Hed been through it all with Martha. You cant read a persons soul at first glance and, worst of all, Martha didnt want help. She thought she could handle it, always, right up until she slipped deeper down.
Their marriage was over.
A while later, Ben invited Emily out for dinner and over their meal, he admitted hed been sweet on her since those school days, but hadnt dared approach her back then, and then, well, Martha was unexpectedly pregnant and life spun them in other directions. Meeting Emily at the clinic now felt meant to be. Talking to her was like honey on his tongue.
Ben asked Emily to marry him, and she was ready to say yes. Truth be told, shed liked him for ages, too, but shed never have dreamed of stealing him from Martha. But now, everything was different. Ben was free, and in love with her. There was nothing in their way. She found someone who would cherish her love, at last.
They married quietly, no fuss. Emily moved in with Ben, but Sophie was wary at first not entirely sure about this new woman sharing her dads attention. But Emily showered that little girl with care, gentleness, and warmth, and soon enough, Sophie started calling her Mum. A couple of years later, Sophie even got a little sister, Maisie.
One day, there was a knock at the door. Emily opened it, and there, swaying on the step, stood Martha. She recognised her by voice alone the smell of drink hit Emily immediately. Marthas face was haggard, defeated.
You sly cow, you stole my husband and my daughter! No wonder Ive hated you all my life! Martha spat.
Emilys face was unflinching, confident she looked good, looked after, unshaken.
Ive never touched what wasnt mine. You walked away from your family yourself and never learned a thing. I havent said a word against you. Honestly, Martha, I just feel sorry for you, Emily replied, closing the door, calm and strong, leaving the past right where it belonged.
