Emily refused to help her daughter, because long ago, she had left her without a home.
The whole village judged Emily. How could she not? She lived in a grand house while her daughter and grandchildren crowded into a tiny cottage. Lucy only made it worse, twisting the truth about her mother. “I haul water from the well, while she has proper plumbing. I buy firewood with my last pennies, and she’s got central heating,” she’d complain to anyone who’d listen. Emily held her head high, ignoring the gossip. Why should she explain herself to everyone?
Years ago, she’d had a perfect life—a loving husband, little Lucy, and a spacious three-bedroom house. Emily stayed home, raising her daughter. The best schools, after-school clubs, everything smooth as silk.
But when Lucy turned fifteen, her husband fell ill. As a devoted wife, Emily fought his sickness with everything she had. The medical bills piled up. They sold everything except the house. Still, it wasn’t enough. Three years later, he was gone.
Money ran short. Lucy, used to comfort, rebelled. Emily took a job at a shop, working the till, covering for cleaners when needed. But the pay was pitiful. Lucy finished school but refused further education. “No money for uni, and I won’t go to trade school, so don’t ask,” she’d snap.
Yet she always had cash for nights out. And she was clever about it—sweet as honey when she needed something, venomous when denied. “Why did you even have me if you can’t help?” It went on like this until Mark came along.
At first, Emily was relieved. Finally, Lucy had settled down. Mark seemed respectable—well-dressed, clearly not shopping at discount stores. He kept Lucy in line, never skimped on fancy groceries, and called Emily “Mum” from day one. A real charmer.
For six months, life was peaceful. Emily came home to a spotless house, dinner ready, though the youngsters were always out late. She didn’t pry—let them live their lives.
Then trouble started. Lucy came home crying; Mark grew sharp-tongued. Emily stayed out of it—a mistake. One evening, they called her in. “Mum, we want our own place,” Lucy began. “We need the house.” Emily was baffled. “I don’t interfere, and I’ve no money to help.” Lucy cut in, “No, we mean sell it—split the cash fairly.”
Emily hesitated, but Lucy wore her down—pleading one minute, threatening to sell her share the next. So Emily gave in. The youngsters handled the sale—then vanished with the money. Emily was left homeless, middle-aged with nothing.
Renting on her wages was impossible, so she sought live-in work—anything. She found it as a carer for elderly Margaret, whose well-off son couldn’t persuade her to leave her home. Margaret was strict—weak on her feet but firm on her ways. Emily learned fast: baking in an Aga, starching linens. She adapted.
They lived together two years—not close, but civil. Then Margaret collapsed one afternoon, gone by evening. Her son arranged everything, then made Emily an offer. “I looked into your past—had to be sure. I’ll sell you the house for a token sum. Pay in instalments.” So Emily became a homeowner again.
Just as she settled, Lucy reappeared—with two toddlers in tow. “Lovely house,” she announced. “Which room’s mine?”
Emily didn’t mince words. “Your room was in the house you sold with Mark. Where’s my share, by the way? Why show up now? Let me guess—he ran off, took the money?” Lucy huffed, “Don’t be cruel. He was a gambler—conned me like he did you. Two failed marriages later, my last bloke kicked me out. So I thought—Mum won’t turn me away.”
Emily’s reply was sharp. “Wrong. You’re a grown woman, a mother. Why should I help? You got all I could give. Sort yourself out. Stay tonight, then go wherever—back to husband one or two, I don’t care.”
Lucy stayed two weeks, then with some woman’s help, bought a rundown cottage with a housing voucher. She moved out but barred Emily from seeing the grandkids. So they lived—close, yet strangers.
Reconciliation came only when disaster struck. Lucy’s latest boyfriend burnt the cottage down. Luckily, she and the children were away that night. They turned up at Emily’s door, and this time, she let them in. After all, they were all she had. It was time to forgive.
What happens next? Only God knows.
