Left All Alone
Its already getting dark outside, and still no sign of Mum. Turning the wheels of my wheelchair, I rolled up to the table, reached for the phone and dialled her number.
The number you have called is currently unavailable or out of coverage, intoned a strangers voice.
I stared helplessly at the screen, recalling it hardly had any credit left, and switched it off. Mum had gone out for groceries and hadnt come back yet. Nothing like this had ever happened before; shed never stayed away so long, especially since Im disabled and cant walk. Apart from Mum, there aren’t any other relatives.
Im seven now, and Im not frightened by being home alone anymore, but Mum always tells me where shes going and when shell return. I couldnt begin to imagine what was wrong.
She went to the bigger supermarket today for food things are cheaper there. We often went together, and even though its considered out of the way, its only about an hour there and back. I checked the clock. Its been four hours now. Im getting hungry.
I piloted myself into the kitchen, put the kettle on, and managed to find a leftover sausage in the fridge. I ate and had some tea.
Still, Mum didnt come back. I couldnt stand it any longer and tried calling again.
The number you have called is currently unavailable or out of coverage, came the automated reply once more.
I got myself back onto my bed, slipping the phone under my pillow. I didnt bother turning out the lightI felt so scared without Mum.
I lay awake for what felt like ages, but at last I did fall asleep.
***
When I woke up, sunlight streamed into my window. Mums bed was still made.
Mum! I shouted towards the hallway.
Nothing but silence. I grabbed my phone and dialled again, only to hear the same cold, unfamiliar voice.
Now I felt truly frightened. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks.
***
Simon was walking back from the bakery, a habit he shared with his mother every morning. Shed prepare breakfast, and hed nip out for fresh rolls.
Simon was already thirty but unmarried; women never seemed to notice him. Awkward, thin, and always unwell, illness had shadowed him from birth, though expensive treatment was always just out of reach for his single mum. The final diagnosis came when he was grown: he would never have children. Hed long come to terms with never marrying.
As he walked, something caught his eye in the grass a battered old phone, smashed as if run over and tossed aside. Although Simon was well-equipped with the latest gadgets he was a programmer and a blogger, after all professional curiosity made him pick it up and stuff it in his pocket.
Wonder if somethings happened? he mused. Ill have a look when I get home.
***
After breakfast, Simon took the SIM card out of the broken phone and slipped it into one of his own. Most of the contacts were for places like the hospital or the council, but the first was simply labelled daughter.
After a pause, he called it.
Mum! a little girls voice answered joyously.
Im not your mum, Simon replied uncertainly.
Wheres my mum?
I dont know. I found this broken phone, popped the SIM in, and called.
My mums missing, came her trembling voice. She left for the shop yesterday and never came home.
What about your dad? Or grandma?
I dont have a dad or a grandma. Just my mum.
Whats your name, love? Simon realised he needed to help the child.
Emily.
My names Uncle Simon. Emily, can you go and tell your neighbour youre all alone?
I cant go outside. My legs dont work. No one lives next door, either.
Hang on your legs dont work?
I was born this way. Mum says we need to save up so doctors can fix them.
How do you get about?
In my wheelchair.
Emily, do you know your address? Simon switched to action.
Yes, 7 Churchill Road, flat eighteen.
Ill come round, then well look for your mum together.
He hung up.
In the next room, his mother, Mrs Linda Shaw, looked in.
Simon, whats wrong?
Mum, I found a broken phone, put its SIM in my old mobile, and called the first contact. Theres a little girl, all alone and disabled. Shes got no family except her mother, whos missing. I got her address. I need to go help her.
Im coming with you, said Linda, getting her coat.
Linda, who had raised Simon single-handedly through years of illness, couldnt help thinking how tough it must be for a lonely mum with a sick child. She was retired now, and her son was doing well for himself.
They called a taxi and went off to help the child.
***
They rang the flat.
Who is it? echoed a sad, small voice.
Emily, its me, Simon.
Come in!
They went up, and the door to eighteen was already ajar.
Inside, a frail-looking girl in a wheelchair gazed up at them with mournful eyes.
Will you find my mum? she asked quietly.
Whats your mums name? Simon asked gently.
Claire.
And your surname?
Watson.
Hang on, Simon, said Linda, glancing at Emily. Emily, are you hungry?
Yes. There was a sausage in the fridge, but I ate it last night.
Simon, pop down to the shop we always go to and get our usual bits.
Right away! he dashed out.
***
By the time Simon returned, his mum was already making something in the kitchen and quickly laid the table.
After theyd eaten, Simon turned his attention to finding Emilys mum.
He opened the local news website, scanning for yesterdays incidents.
There we go. On Parkside Road, a driver knocked down a woman. She was taken to hospital in a critical condition.
He picked up the phone and called the hospital. After the third try, someone answered.
Yes, a woman from Parkside Road was admitted yesterday. Shes in a bad way, hasnt woken up yet.
Whats her surname?
She didnt have any ID or phone on her. Are you family?
Um not exactly
Come by the hospital
I know the address. Ill come by soon.
He hung up and turned to Emily.
Have you got a photo of your mum?
Yes. She wheeled up to a cupboard and fetched an album. We took this one recently.
Your mums lovely! Simon took a photo of the snapshot on his phone. Ill go and look for her, all right?
***
She slowly opened her eyes. White ceiling. Her mind gradually returned; she remembered a car screeching towards her
She tried to move, pain shocking through her body. A nurse came over softly.
Youre awake?
Claires eyes widened in panic.
How long have I been here?
Two days.
My daughter shes all alone at home
Claire, calm down! soothed the nurse, touching her gently. A young man was here yesterdayhe left his number for you. Said your phone was smashed up.
Can I call?
One moment! She tapped the screen for daughter and held the phone to Claires ear.
Mum!
Emily, darling, are you all right?
Im fine! Granny Linda and Uncle Simon are here with me.
Whos Uncle Simon?
Dont worry! said the doctor as he entered. Or Ill take that phone! Lets check you over
Ill ring you back, sweetheart! Claire said before the nurse took the phone.
She was examined, then given an IV. As the staff bustled out, the nurse slipped the phone into her pocket.
Could I talk to my daughter for just a minute more? Claire pleaded.
The doctor says not to get agitated. But the nurse relented, dialling Emily.
Mum?
Claire, its Linda Shaw, an unfamiliar voice replied. Listen, my son found your shattered phone, used your SIM to find your daughter. Im a pensioner. While youre recovering, Ill stay with Emilydont fret! Here, Ill pass you back.
Mum, dont worry and get better quickly! Emily piped up.
Be good for Granny Linda! Claire implored, as if clinging to a lifeline.
Time to put the phone away! the nurse chided.
***
Next day, Claire was moved to the general ward. That evening, during visiting hours, a timid, awkward young man arrived.
Hello, Claire, Im Simon, he said with a small smile. Hope you dont mind me being on first names.
Not at all.
He set a big carrier bag on her bedside table.
Mum put that together for you.
I dont even know who you are, Claire admitted.
I found your phone, salvaged the SIM, called your daughter, and tracked you down.
Hows my Emily?
Hang on.
He fetched the phone hed left her earlier, tinkered a moment, then passed it over.
Claires face appeared on the little video screen; Emily beamed back.
Mum! Does it hurt?
No, darling, not anymore. How are you?
Granny Linda visits me.
Mother and daughter talked for ages while Simon waited patiently. When they finished, Claire hung her head.
I owe you so much.
Dont mention it, Claire, he smiled. And youd better call me Simon.
Thank you, Simon.
Let me show you how this phone works.
***
Two weeks later, the man responsible for the accident brought Claire a cheque for twenty thousand pounds right to the hospital, and came with his solicitor.
The very next day, Claire was discharged. Simon came to fetch her and drove her home.
Mum! cried Emily, so thrilled she nearly toppled out of her wheelchair. Claire knelt beside her and hugged her tight, unable to hold back tears of joy.
She turned to the elderly woman.
Mrs Shaw, thank you so much!
Oh, hush now, Claire! Emily feels like a granddaughter to me.
ButMrs Shaw, I cant thank you enough. Claire produced the thick envelope. Please, accept this. I have nothing else to show my gratitude.
Put that away! Linda said sternly. My Simon and I will manage just fine. Save it for Emilys hospital treatment. Simons already spoken to a clinic.
Mum! Emily exclaimed. Uncle Simon says well go to hospital and theyll fix my legs so I can walk.
***
Claire and Emily stayed at the clinic for two weeks. Emily had a frame put in. Shed need to return in three months, and again each year for three years, with rehab. By the end, the doctors promised, Emily would walk.
For now, she still used her chair, and the new frame was awkward and sore, but hopes were running high.
Life, though, wasnt done testing their little family. Linda Shaw suffered a bad heart spell and was taken to hospital in serious condition.
Claire spent three nights by her bedside, only dashing home to cook for everyone and nap a little. Simon stayed nights with Emily.
On the fourth day, Linda finally stirred. She gazed at Claire and then, in a frail voice, said:
My dear, I havent long left in this world. Marry my Simon, will you? Hes steady and kind. Together, youll help Emily walk tall.
Oh Mrs Shaw, would he really want me?
Hell want youhe most certainly will. A smile flickered across the old ladys face.
***
On the first day of school, an elderly woman held the hand of a girl with a rucksack and a bouquet of flowers. If she werent so tall, youd think she was starting Year One. But this was Emilys very first day at schooland she was going straight into Year Four. The first three years, shed studied at home, scoring top marks.
Now, at ten, she was about to walk into classon her own two feet.
Gran, Im a bit scared, she whispered.
Silly girl, youre ten already! And look, theres your mum and dad.
Why so sombre, love? Claire called as she and Simon caught up.
Shes just nervous, Linda said gently.
Take my hand, Simon offered Emily.
With you, Dad, Im never scared, Emily beamed.
And so, laughing and chattering, they walked together towards schoolmum and gran trailing happily behind, every bit as lucky and content.
