Love Till Death
Emma stepped out of the shop, adjusting the heavy grocery bag in her grip as she walked home. She hadn’t bought much, yet the bag weighed her arm down. Pausing outside the house, she frowned. “No lights on. Katie’s run off again.” Emma shook her head. “Just wait till she gets back… Ever since she got mixed up with that… James, her grades have slipped, she skips homework. The teachers complain. And with A-levels coming up, university applications… Just you wait till you come home—I’ll give you a piece of my mind,” she muttered, trudging up the stairs to the flat.
Inside, Emma dropped the bag on a kitchen chair and glanced at the stove. “Of course. I asked her to peel the potatoes or boil some pasta. Gone again… What am I supposed to do with her?”
She yanked off her coat, hung it in the hall, and stormed back to the kitchen. The fridge door slammed, dishes clattered—Emma cooked dinner in a rage, vowing to have a stern word with her daughter the moment she walked in.
But Katie wasn’t in any hurry. Half past ten, and still no sign of her. Emma paced the room, muttering under her breath like a mantra:
“Just you wait till you get back… I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget. I work my fingers to the bone for you, and you can’t even boil pasta? Do you think I don’t want a life of my own? I was your age when I ended up alone with a baby. Ungrateful… Wants to follow in my footsteps, does she? Let her try—she’ll see how hard it really is.”
Her anger boiled over. She wanted to break something, anything, to let out the fury coiled inside.
When the key scratched in the lock, relief flooded her—until she saw Katie’s guilty face, her eyes bright with reckless happiness. The rage roared back.
“Where have you been? Do you know what time it is? What about your schoolwork? Exams are right around the corner, and you’re out God knows where,” she shouted, forgetting the neighbours might hear.
“I did my homework…” Katie tried to defend herself.
“Don’t talk back to me! Have you lost your mind? I raised you, hoped you’d study, get a good job—then we’d have a decent life. But you’re making the same mistakes I did.”
“I’m not making any mistakes. Stop shouting,” Katie snapped.
Her eyes darkened, a flush rising on her cheeks.
Emma clenched her fists, biting back an insult. Helpless, she scanned the room for something, anything. Katie tried to slip past to her room, but Emma snatched up a folded umbrella from the side table and raised it.
“Mum!” Katie shrieked, ducking her head behind her hands.
The cry, the cowering posture—Emma’s arm dropped like a dead weight. The umbrella clattered to the floor. She sagged, deflated, the anger gone as quickly as it had come.
“I’ve been worried sick, not knowing where you were, and you… What’s that on your finger? Where’d you get that?” she asked weakly, suddenly too exhausted to stand. She sank onto the hallway stool.
Katie slowly lowered her hands, glancing at the simple gold ring with a tiny white stone.
“James gave it to me,” she whispered, peeking at her mother—as if the storm had passed.
“You’re still in school. Doesn’t he know that?” Emma stared at the ring.
“He does. So what? In two months, I’ll sit my exams—”
“And be an adult? Don’t make me laugh. You live under my roof. You’ll respect my rules, at least help around the house. You think being grown means doing whatever you want? Staying out all night? Skipping school? What if you get pregnant?” The anger surged again.
She knew she was going too far but couldn’t stop.
“Mum, he loves me. And I love him,” Katie said desperately.
“If he loved you, he’d do what’s best for you, not drag you down. Where did he even come from?” Emma swayed, a sigh—or a groan—escaping her.
That night, she tossed and turned. The argument, the worry, kept her nerves frayed. How had her bright, obedient girl—the pride of her life—ended up like this? Her mind spiralled with worst-case scenarios, imagining disasters. Exhausted, she dialled her only friend.
“What’s wrong?” a sleepy voice croaked. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Sorry. I needed to talk. Katie… she—”
“I warned you, didn’t I? Said you were too soft. What’s she done now?”
“She’s got mixed up with some older boy, grades are slipping, skips school. The teachers complain. It’s embarrassing.” A loud yawn echoed down the line. “What do I do?” Silence. “Pauline? Are you asleep? Fine, I’ll call tomorrow.” She hung up.
Sharing the burden had helped, a little. She finally fell into a restless sleep. By morning, things seemed less dire—but she resolved to act before it was too late. How?
While washing up, boiling the kettle, she rehearsed arguments, ways to make Katie see sense. Peeking into Katie’s room, she saw her curled up, cheek resting on her palm. Emma’s heart clenched with fear and love. She sighed, shut the door softly, and got ready for work.
Leaving the flat, she grabbed her keys—then, on impulse, fished Katie’s from her coat pocket and tucked them away. In the drawer, she found the spare set from her ex, locked the door with those. “There. She’ll stay home. I’ll call the school, say she’s ill. At least she won’t run off. She’ll have time to think.” It felt right. She’d talk to her tonight—find the right words.
If only she’d known what would happen. But her sleep-deprived mind couldn’t foresee it.
At nine, Katie called, furious. “Why’d you lock me in?”
“To make you think. We’ll talk tonight. Don’t disturb me at work,” Emma replied curtly.
No more calls came. The day dragged. No clever arguments formed—just resentment, blame.
Returning home, she saw a crowd outside the opposite block, buzzing with chatter. A neighbour hobbled past.
“Liz, what’s going on?” Emma nodded toward the crowd.
“Oh, love…” Liz hesitated, pity in her eyes. “Don’t panic. They’ve called the police and the rescue services.”
“Just tell me,” Emma snapped—but her heart already knew. Something terrible.
The setting sun blinded her, hiding the reason for the crowd.
“Look at the roof. Isn’t that your Katie?” Liz shielded her eyes.
Emma squinted—then saw two figures, silhouetted against the sky. Without recognising her daughter, she ran, shoved through the crowd, and looked up. The sun dipped, and there, clear against the blue, was Katie. Holding hands with James, on the roof’s edge.
“God, I locked her in, took the keys—she didn’t jump from the window, did she?” she muttered aloud.
“A cherry-picker came earlier. Thought it was maintenance,” a man nearby said. “Must’ve got her out through the window. That your girl?”
People turned, whispering.
“Katie!” Emma screamed—or thought she did. Only a strangled gasp escaped.
“That’s James with her. Dodged the army. Dad’s in prison—killed his mum drunk. Lives with his aunt, no direction.”
“He delivers pizzas.”
“Nice girl, always said hello.”
“Where’s the police?”
“Sirens—hear that?”
Emma kept her eyes locked on Katie. Her neck ached, but she feared looking away even for a second—as if her gaze alone kept them from jumping. James spotted the arriving police.
“Stay back, or we’ll jump,” he shouted, his voice shaking—no real threat in it.
Emma didn’t see the men slipping into the building. Tears blurred her vision, but she kept staring. Then—Katie’s figure seemed to waver. Emma lurched forward, arms outstretched—but the world tilted, went black…
She woke to a young man’s face. For a second, she thought it was James—swung her arms wildly.
“Easy. Ambulance is coming,” the man in the rescue uniform said.
Not James.
“Katie…” she whispered.
“Your Katie’s alive. Over there.” He nodded.
With his help, Emma stood.
“Mum!” Katie sprinted over, sobbing into her shoulder. “I’m sorry—”
“Tell the police he made you go up there,” the rescuer murmured.
Two ambulances arrived. One took James’ body away in a black bag—at the last second, as rescuers grabbed them, he’d broken free and jumped.
After that, Katie shut down, silent as stone. PoliceThe years passed quietly, and though the shadow of that day never fully faded, Emma and Katie learned to carry it together, finding solace in the love that remained—stronger than grief, wiser than youth, enduring until the end.
