Margaret Williams set her knitting aside and listened. Someone was fumbling with the front door lock—a familiar sound, but she wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour. Half past nine in the evening, the neighbours were already asleep, and her granddaughter Emily only visited on weekends.
The latch clicked, the door creaked open. Heavy footsteps and soft sniffing echoed in the hallway.
“Who’s there?” Margaret called, gripping her walking stick.
“Mum, it’s me,” came the reply.
Her heart leaped. She hadn’t heard that voice in over a year. Her son, Daniel, had walked out after yet another drunken row and never returned. Just the odd text to say he was alive.
“Daniel?” she said uncertainly.
“Yeah, Mum. It’s me. Don’t be scared.”
Margaret pushed herself up from her armchair and limped into the hallway, flicking on the light. There stood her son—unkempt beard, crumpled jacket, filthy jeans. He looked worse for wear, but at least he was sober.
“Daniel!” She hugged him tight, ignoring the stale smell. “Oh, love, I’ve missed you so much.”
“Missed you too, Mum. I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her. “I know I’ve messed up.”
She pulled back, studying him. Thinner, with hollow eyes, but his gaze was clear. Not a drop of drink in him.
“Come in, sit down,” she fussed. “I’ll heat something up for you.”
“Wait, Mum.” He caught her hand. “I didn’t come alone.”
“What d’you mean?”
He turned toward the door and called softly, “Come on, don’t be shy.”
A small figure peeked out from behind him—a little girl, maybe five or six, in a grubby pink dress and scuffed sandals. Blonde ringlets and wide grey eyes, darting nervously around.
Margaret gasped. “Who’s this?”
“Mum, meet Sophie,” Daniel said, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “My daughter.”
“Daughter?” Margaret sank onto the hallway stool. “What d’you mean, daughter? How?”
“Long story, Mum. Let’s get her fed and cleaned up first. She’s exhausted—took us ages to get here.”
Sophie clung to Daniel’s leg, silent, her big eyes scanning the unfamiliar room.
“Right, of course,” Margaret said quickly. “Sweetheart, are you hungry? Fancy a bite?”
The girl nodded but didn’t budge.
“Kitchen’s this way,” Margaret said, leading them with her uneven steps. “I’ll whip something up.”
Daniel settled Sophie at the table. She glanced around curiously—tiny kitchen, lace curtains, china teapot on the shelf.
“Mum, d’you have anything for kids? Milk, cereal?” Daniel asked.
“Got milk, I’ll warm it. Porridge won’t take a mo’,” she said, bustling about. “You like porridge, love?”
Sophie nodded again.
While Margaret cooked, Daniel spoke quietly to Sophie. “This is your grandma’s house. Where I grew up. See the pretty flowers? Tomorrow, if it’s nice, I’ll show you the garden. There’s a swing.”
“Is Mummy coming soon?” Sophie piped up in a tiny voice.
Daniel hesitated. “Soph, remember what we talked about? Mummy… won’t be coming.”
Her eyes dropped. “Did she die?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. She did.”
Margaret, stirring the pot, stiffened. What mother? What had happened? How many more shocks was her son about to drop?
She set a bowl of porridge and warm milk in front of Sophie. “There you go, pet. Eat up, then we’ll get you bathed and to bed.”
Sophie took a tentative bite. Must’ve liked it—she dug in hungrily.
“Is it nice?” Margaret asked.
“Mm-hm,” Sophie mumbled through a full mouth.
“Good girl. Eat as much as you want.”
Daniel picked at his food, his eyes never leaving Sophie, adjusting her napkin, nudging the milk closer.
“Daniel,” Margaret said quietly. “We need to talk.”
“I know, Mum. Just let’s get Sophie settled first.”
The girl was already struggling to keep her eyes open—the journey had taken its toll.
“C’mon, sunshine.” Margaret took Sophie’s hand. “Bath time, then bed.”
In the bathroom, she helped peel off the grimy dress. The sandals were falling apart. Beneath the clothes, thin arms and legs were dotted with bruises.
“Sophie, love, what happened here?” Margaret asked gently, tracing a dark mark.
“Fell over,” came the short reply.
“Often?”
A shrug.
Margaret filled the tub, letting Sophie play with the bubbles, stealing shy glances at her.
“What’s your name?” Sophie suddenly asked.
“Margaret. Or just Grandma, if you like.”
“Grandma,” Sophie repeated, testing the word.
“That’s right. How old are you?”
“Five. Nearly six.”
“Big girl. Starting school soon?”
Sophie nodded. “Mummy said I’m clever. I can read.”
“Can you? That’s brilliant! Read to me tomorrow, yeah?”
For the first time that evening, Sophie smiled.
Wrapped in a towel, she was carried to Margaret’s bed—no proper bed for her yet, so they’d share.
“Scared,” Sophie whispered once they’d settled.
“Of what, love?”
“What if Daddy leaves? Like Mummy did?”
Margaret pulled her close. “He won’t. He loves you.”
“Mummy loved me, but she died.”
“That wasn’t her fault, sweetheart. She was poorly. Daddy’s healthy—he’s staying right here.”
“D’you love me?”
“’Course I do. You’re my granddaughter.”
“I love you too, Grandma.”
Sophie nestled in and finally slept.
The next morning, she woke first, padding into the kitchen where Daniel sat with tea.
“Morning, Daddy.”
“Morning, poppet. Sleep alright?”
“Uh-huh. Bed’s soft.”
“Brilliant. Want breakfast?”
As he fixed toast and jam, Sophie asked, “Are we staying here?”
“Yeah, if Grandma says it’s okay.”
“She’s nice. Kind.”
“The kindest. She looked after me when I was little too.”
Margaret shuffled in, robe and slippers on. “Morning, my darlings.”
Sophie beamed. “Grandma, can I help cook today?”
“’Course you can. We’ll make pancakes later.”
Daniel headed out job-hunting, returning with news—he’d start as a stocker at the local supermarket the next day.
Meanwhile, Margaret took Sophie shopping. The girl’s eyes lit up at a blue floral dress. “Pretty. ’S’it expensive?”
“Not at all. Let’s try it on.”
They left with dresses, a cardigan, tights, and shiny new shoes.
That evening, all three huddled on the sofa, Sophie between them, content.
“Grandma,” she yawned later, “will Daddy come home every day now?”
“Every single day, love.”
Margaret knew life had changed for good. Her son had come back—not alone, but with hope and a little girl who needed love.
And now, she had a family again.
