Shadows of the Past: A Dramatic Truth in Little Welling
Benjamin caught a nasty flu. He’d come to stay with his gran in the village of Little Welling, where the air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and childhood memories. Lying on the old creaky bed, he gave his grandma, Margaret Whitmore, a weak smile.
“Don’t know what I’d do without you, Gran,” he murmured. “Feels like I’ve got no one else in the world. Maybe nobody even cares?”
“Don’t talk daft, Benjamin!” Gran exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “A fine lad like you? You’d be a proper catch for any woman! Stay put—I’ll nip round to Mrs. Higgins for some honey for your tea.”
Shaking her head, Margaret bustled out. Benjamin shut his eyes, drifting into a restless sleep—until the door creaked open, and soft footsteps broke the silence.
“Gran, that you?” He jerked upright, blinking in disbelief.
Benjamin had made it his duty to look after Gran these past few years. His parents were always busy—Dad still clocking in at the factory, Mum lost in her garden, fussing over roses and runner beans. She barely visited Gran once a month.
“I’ve got the most free time,” Benjamin would say with a chuckle. “No wife, no kids, even at thirty-seven. Meanwhile, you’re either off travelling or knee-deep in DIY.”
“Your gran adores you,” his mum would reply. “She knows you’ll bring the shopping, fix the shed, spend weekends with her.”
“Course I love her,” Benjamin would say warmly. “Spent every summer here as a kid. Then the Army, work, life got in the way… Time to pay her back.”
“And when are you settling down?” his mum would press. “It’s about time, Ben. Don’t wanna end up alone.”
Now, bumping down the lane in his car, groceries rattling in the boot, his mind wandered back to his youth—to the girl he’d loved in the next village over, Willowbrook. Emily had been quiet, with eyes that spoke volumes. Their summers were stolen kisses and whispered promises.
“Shame how it ended,” he sighed. “I went off with the Army, and she… Well, turns out there was another bloke. Came back from working abroad, made a right scene in front of the whole village. Bloody hell, Emily…”
Up ahead, a girl thumbed a lift. Benjamin slowed down.
“Going to Willowbrook?” she asked, tucking a dark fringe behind her ear.
“Hop in,” he nodded.
As they drove, he stole glances at her. Something in her face tugged at his memory—almost familiar.
“You from round here or visiting?” he asked.
“Coming home,” she said. “Just finished my nursing exams. Proper knackered. Though ‘summer in the village’ just means chores, doesn’t it? Still, home’s home. Mum’s waiting.”
She grinned, and Benjamin froze—that smile was the spitting image of Emily’s.
“You’re not… Emily’s daughter, are you?” he asked carefully.
“I’m Lucy Harper,” she said. “Mum was Emily Carter before she married.”
“Right, yeah,” Benjamin’s heart thudded. “Just thought you might be.”
“You knew my mum?” Lucy looked surprised.
“Saw her about, years back,” he said vaguely, spotting a mole on her cheek—just like his.
“How old are you, then?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“Nearly eighteen,” she laughed. “Though everyone says I look younger.”
“You’ll grow into it,” he said, pulling up. “Take after your mum, do you?”
“More like my dad,” Lucy said quietly, stepping out. “Though he had rotten luck. Died when I was ten. Just me and Mum now. Happiness doesn’t stick around, does it?”
With a wave, she walked off. Benjamin watched her go, gripping the wheel.
Back at Gran’s, she took one look at him and frowned.
“What’s eating you, lad? Feeling worse? Fancy a cuppa?”
“Nah, Gran, I’m alright. Where’s that old photo album?” he asked suddenly.
“Up in the attic. Why?”
“Fancy a trip down memory lane,” he said.
They paged through it, Gran chattering about neighbours and relatives. When Benjamin casually mentioned Emily, Margaret sighed.
“After you left, she married that Stephen bloke quick enough. Loved her, he did. You nearly ruined their wedding, you charmer,” Gran teased. “Always were popular with the girls. When you settling down?”
“Her husband died, didn’t he?” Benjamin asked carefully.
“Years back. Broke her heart…” Gran gave him a long look before heading to the kitchen.
Benjamin couldn’t settle all day. Lucy’s face haunted him—the mole, the smile, the timing. Could she be his? The thought gripped his chest. Had Emily kept it from him? He cursed himself for not fighting for her all those years ago.
Next morning, he drove straight to Willowbrook. Emily was hanging washing in the yard. Spotting him, she froze, then bolted inside.
“Emily, come out! We need to talk!” His voice shook.
She appeared on the doorstep, stepping slowly to the gate.
“Let’s talk in the garden. Don’t want Lucy hearing,” she said quietly. “Why’d you come back, Benjamin?”
“I’m at Gran’s, just down the—”
“You vanished for years. What do you want?” Her eyes glistened.
“Were you angry with me?” he asked. “I’m sorry. I should’ve fought for you.”
“Why dredge it up?” she whispered. “We were young and daft. I messed up too—should’ve waited for Stephen, but I fell for you. And look where it got us.”
“Got us?” He searched her face.
Just then, Lucy skipped out. “Oh, it’s you! I told Mum about you, but she clammed up. You came yourself!”
“Remembered, just about,” Benjamin mumbled. “My fault, leaving like I did.”
“What’re you doing here?” Emily hissed. “Go. Lucy doesn’t need to know about my past.”
“Walk me to the car,” he said.
There, he took her hands. “What’s my daughter’s name? Don’t say she’s not mine. That mole’s mine.”
“What?!” Emily recoiled. “You’re mad! Lucy loved her dad. I won’t let you wreck our lives! Piss off and stay gone!”
Her words stung. But seeing his shattered expression, she softened.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “We’re both alone… But I can’t reopen old wounds. You were lovely, but I loved Stephen. Lucy’s his.”
Benjamin drove back in a daze. At Gran’s, he collapsed into bed—fever spiking.
“Where’ve you been?” Gran fretted. “You should be resting!”
“Chemist was shut,” he lied.
He dozed off, waking to the door’s creak. Emily stood there in a floaty dress, a shawl round her shoulders—like a ghost from his youth.
“You? Why’re you here?” He sat up.
“Heard you were poorly,” she said softly. “Maybe I was too harsh yesterday. Don’t hate me.”
“First you chuck me out, now this. Explain properly, Emily!”
She sighed. “Didn’t sleep a wink. Lucy… she’s yours. The mole’s yours.”
“What?!” He leapt up. “Yesterday you—”
He dropped to his knees, hugging her.
“Christ, I’m the luckiest sod alive… Can you forgive me? Why was I such an idiot?”
“Don’t tell Lucy yet,” Emily begged, wiping tears. “I’ll do it… later. And swear you’ll keep it quiet.”
She left a jar of homemade jam and slipped out. Behind the curtains, Gran emerged, honey in hand, eyes wet.
“Gran, you heard?” Benjamin whispered.
“All of it,” she sniffled. “Your girl grew up without you, while you were off gallivanting… Oh, Lord.”
“But I know now!” he said fiercely. “I love Emily and Lucy. And I’m not losing them.”
A week later, he returned to Willowbrook. Lucy ran off with sweets to a friend’s, while Emily let him in.
“Gran wants Lucy to visit,” he said. “Worried she might not… see the truth in time.”
“She will,” Emily smiled. “Give us time. Who knew you’d come back?”
“We’ll make up for lost years,” he promised, holding her. “If you’ll let me.”
She nodded, stroking his cheek.
“It’ll be alright. You’re not vanishing again?”
“Never,” he kissed her. “You’re everything to me.”
Soon, Benjamin moved in. They married three months later. Lucy learned the truth after sixShe wept at first, but in the end, she wrapped her arms around Benjamin and whispered, “I always wondered where I got this cheeky mole from.”
