**Untimely Love**
Emily peeked into her mother’s bedroom and saw she was asleep, so she quietly shut the door.
“Emily,” her mum suddenly called out in a weak voice.
“Yeah, Mum.” Emily stepped back in. “Thought you were sleeping. Do you need anything? I was just going out for a bit with the girls.”
“Go on, love. I’ll rest,” Julia murmured, shutting her eyes again. Even lifting her heavy lids seemed to take all her strength.
Emily exhaled in relief and hurried to get ready. During her mum’s illness, she’d grown used to moving silently, even down the stairs. At the front gate, her classmate Jake Turner was waiting.
“Took you long enough,” he grumbled instead of a greeting.
“Had to heat up Mum’s soup. Where are we going?” She smiled, hoping to smooth things over.
“She still poorly?”
“Yeah, just fell asleep. We won’t be long, yeah? In case she needs me,” Emily pressed.
“She’ll be fine—sleep’ll do her good,” Jake said breezily.
Emily bit her lip. She hadn’t told anyone what was really wrong. Didn’t want their pity or a fuss at school.
“Bloody rain,” Jake muttered. “Let’s go to Liam’s—his parents are at their cottage.” He pulled her close, trying to kiss her, but Emily jerked away.
“Are you mad? Someone’ll see!”
“Who? Your mum’s out cold. Come on.”
She hesitated. Last time they went to Liam’s, Jake wouldn’t leave her alone. She liked him, but he was always pushing too fast.
“Em, just half an hour. Promise I won’t mess about,” he pleaded as the drizzle turned heavier.
“Fine, but not long,” she relented.
“Course.” Jake barely hid his grin.
Liam answered the door, smirking at the sight of them.
“Get in.”
Emily froze. Being alone with two lads didn’t sit right.
“Downloaded a sick film yesterday,” Liam said, already heading to the living room. Jake kicked off his trainers and followed. Now was her chance to leave. But going home didn’t feel any better.
She shut the door and joined them, sitting stiffly beside Jake. His arm draped over the sofa behind her. Liam handed them each a can of lager. Emily refused hers, and Jake took it with a shrug. She side-eyed him but stayed silent.
The film was actually good, gripping from the start. She only snapped back when Jake’s hot, wandering hand slipped under her jumper. She flinched, but he gripped her shoulder, his other hand squeezing painfully.
“Ow!” she cried.
Jake loosened his hold, and Emily bolted up. Liam was gone—she hadn’t even noticed him leave.
“Em, sorry,” Jake mumbled.
“You promised!” she spat.
“Chill out. Acting like it’s your first time. I love you.” He stood too.
It was the first time he’d said it. The words made her pause, and before she could shove him away, he kissed her. His breath reeked of lager. His hands turned rough, insistent.
“Stop—I need to go,” she gasped, pushing against his chest.
Jake suddenly hauled her onto the sofa, pinning her down. Emily thrashed, finally kneeing him hard between the legs.
“Bitch!” he swore, rolling off.
She scrambled up, snatched her trainers, and fumbled with the lock.
“Piss off, then!” Jake yelled after her.
Emily fled down the stairs in her socks, only stopping to yank on her shoes when she realised no one followed.
How could she have trusted him? Her mum was dying, and all he wanted was…
At home, she scrubbed her face and neck, desperate to erase the memory of his wet kisses. Sitting in the dark, she wondered—what if Mum died? She’d be utterly alone. How would she live? Her eighteenth was in two months; her dad’s child support would stop. No money, not even for a prom dress. But none of it mattered if Mum got better.
She’d found out about the cancer herself. Knew it was worse than Mum let on. A quick search of her meds online confirmed it.
Her phone buzzed—Jake: “Em, sorry.” She ignored it. Messages flooded in, swinging between grovelling and rage. She powered it off.
Before bed, she checked on Mum.
“Mum, you awake?”
Julia’s eyes fluttered open with effort.
“Need anything? Water? Loo?”
A faint head shake. Eyes closed again.
Morning came with a crash. Emily sprinted in to find her mum swaying, gripping the bedframe. A chair lay toppled.
Emily helped her back down, shocked at how thin she felt.
“Why didn’t you call me?” she scolded.
“Thought I could…” Julia panted like she’d run a mile.
“I’ll make tea.” Emily dashed to the kitchen.
Her mum sipped a little, then refused more. She hadn’t eaten in days, barely used the loo.
Emily’s stomach churned. She wanted to stay home—couldn’t face Jake after last night. But exams loomed. She’d skip the last lesson, history, and hurry back.
Returning from school, she found Mum still asleep. Kept checking, but she hadn’t moved. Uneasy, Emily touched her bony shoulder—and froze. She knew.
Stumbling out, she clamped a hand over her mouth, lost. The neighbour—retired, always home—took one look at her face and understood. Called an ambulance, then the coroner.
After they took Mum away, Emily flung open the windows. The neighbour went door-to-door, collecting cash for her. School parents chipped in too. Mum’s workmates handled the funeral.
Those days blurred. The woman in the coffin looked foreign—Emily avoided looking, clinging to memories of her before the illness.
Sorting through papers, she found an old exercise book. Pages of Mum’s handwriting, no dates—just fragmented memories. Why these?
*…How old was I when I met Daniel? Younger than Emily is now. His surname—Arden—made me ask if he was related to the poet. He laughed it off.*
*Too soon. He was seven years older, seemed so grown. I didn’t realise it was love—real, once-in-a-lifetime love. He never pressured me. What could I even offer? I was stupid, didn’t appreciate him, let him slip away.*
*That’s how it goes when love comes too early. I wanted silly dances, teddy bears, not French perfume. Even Emily’s more mature than I was.*
*Met my ex-husband at a club after. He enlisted; I went to uni. Letters were rare. When he returned, I fancied him—older, tougher. He proposed fast. I said no, panicked. He left, then came back like nothing happened.*
*My first time was awful—not like the films. We married three months later. The wedding’s a blur. Hated the stupid games, being gawked at. Spent hours combing hairspray out. He was asleep when I got to bed.*
*Between uni and housework, we fought. Then pregnancy, a messy divorce. Alone with Emily, I thought of Daniel often. What if?*
*The diagnosis blindsided me. Two months to live, I got two years. But now… My poor girl. Just wanted to last till her exams…*
Later, the writing steadied:
*…Wish I’d journaled sooner. So clear now—all the signs I missed. Life’s in the details. Too late.*
Emily wept. Mum had known real love—not whatever Jake offered. Days later, she searched online for Daniel Arden, calculating his age. Hundreds popped up.
In a photo album, she found a man’s picture—dated, signed *”To remember. Daniel.”* Grainy, but something. She messaged every match, saying she was looking for him, leaving out Mum’s death.
A few replied—none felt right. Then, two weeks later, a terse message from a bloke: *”That’s my dad. Call you?”* She gave her number. No call came.
Prepping for her last exam, the doorbell rang. A stranger stood there.
“Who’re you after?” Emily asked.
“You, if you’re Emily. Can I come in? Not a psycho, promise.”
She let him in. Smartly dressed, charming, a bit older.
“Something smells off in here,” he remarked.
Emily flushed. “Can’t tell—used to it.”
“Why’d you track me down?”
“Not you—your dad, Daniel Arden. Found Mum’s notes about him. How’d you get my address?”
“Phone number. Mate works for a mobile company. Dad died six months back—heart attack. Why’d you want him?”
“Mum loved him before I was born. Wanted to find the man she thought of at the end.”She looked into his eyes—so like Daniel’s—and whispered, *”Because love shouldn’t end with a funeral.”*
