“So, you won’t invite me to the wedding, then? Ashamed of me, are you?”
Emily had fallen for her classmate George in their final year of school. Back then, he was just an ordinary, unremarkable lad. But after the summer holidays, he seemed to have grown taller, his shoulders broadened. One day during PE, she twisted her ankle. George carried her all the way to the nurse’s office in his arms. She clung to him, suddenly noticing how strong and handsome he’d become.
From that moment on, they were inseparable. By spring, Emily realized she was expecting. They married right after their A-levels. George didn’t go to university—instead, he took a job on a construction site. Just before New Year’s, Emily gave birth to a little girl, Lottie. George helped his young wife, taking Lottie out for walks while Emily did the washing, cooked, or simply caught up on sleep. Come spring, he joined the army.
Then another blow—Emily’s father left her mother for another woman. Her mother couldn’t bear it. She withered away, losing all interest in life. Soon, she was diagnosed with aggressive cancer, and within two months, she was gone. Emily was left alone with the baby. Her mother-in-law visited occasionally, scolding her for letting herself go, for the flat being a mess, for the child looking unkempt—but never offering help.
An elderly neighbour took pity on Emily. She asked her to clean her flat and run errands for a small sum, and in return, she’d look after Lottie.
Emily scraped by as best she could. Finally, George returned from service—only to announce their marriage had been a mistake, that their childish infatuation had faded, that they’d acted rashly in their youth. He accused her of trapping him with her pregnancy. He wanted to study now, he said.
Emily was left alone with little Lottie. No one to confide in, no one to ask for help, no one to weep to. She wore herself out raising their daughter single-handedly. Yet Lottie grew into a beauty, top of her class, never short of admirers—though she turned them all away.
“Don’t fancy any of them, then?” Emily would ask.
“Course I do. I like Oliver. And Harry’s not bad. But they’re just like us—their parents live hand to mouth. I don’t want that. I won’t spend my life in poverty. I’m pretty, and pretty should come at a price.”
“Looks fade, love. I was pretty once, too—look at me now. Everything vanished after I had you.”
“Why compare me to you, Mum? I’m not planning on babies, not any time soon. First, I need to marry well—find a rich, successful husband,” Lottie cut in.
“And where d’you suppose you’ll find one, eh? In our little town? There’s more fingers on one hand than rich folk here. Money isn’t happiness. Rich men marry their own—they wouldn’t look twice at the likes of us,” Emily reasoned.
“I’m not staying here. Once I’m done with school, I’m off to London. More opportunities there. Oh, and Mum, I need a new dress. And shoes. And there’s this coat I saw in a shop. I can’t go looking like some pauper.” Lottie pointed at the dress Emily had spent months saving for.
So she took on extra work, coming home exhausted, collapsing straight into bed. She denied herself everything so Lottie could have what the others did. The neighbours praised Emily for raising such a bright, beautiful girl alone. She swelled with pride, though she never spoke of what it cost her. They drifted further apart, living under the same roof yet barely understanding each other anymore.
After finishing school, Lottie left for London, taking the last of Emily’s savings. She got into university, called home rarely, and when Emily rang, she’d brush her off—”I’m fine,” “Too busy studying,” “Send money.” In all her years there, she barely spent two weeks visiting. Then, midway through her final term, she turned up unannounced.
“Mum, I’m getting married. Daniel’s father’s a businessman. They’ve got this massive house. I’ve passed my driving test. After the wedding, Daniel’s buying me a car…” Lottie gushed.
Emily was overjoyed to see her so happy.
“Oh, sweetheart! When do I meet him? I’ve got nothing to wear to the wedding, mind—no matter, I’ll ask Sarah down the hall to run me up a dress. She works at a seamstress’. When’s the big day? Hope there’s time…”
Lottie hesitated, avoiding her gaze.
“Mum… I told Daniel’s parents you live abroad and can’t make it,” she began carefully, but when she saw Emily’s shocked expression, she snapped. “I couldn’t exactly say you’re a cleaner, could I? That we’re broke. They’d never have understood. There’d have been no wedding. Why can’t you see that?”
“So, no invitation? Ashamed of me? That’s rotten. What do I tell people?”
“I don’t care what people think. What did they say when Dad left you with a baby? Did a single soul help you? If you don’t want me stuck in poverty like you, working myself to the bone, you’ll accept this and stay away. Look at you. No teeth left, dressed like some country bumpkin…”
The words cut Emily deep.
“Never thought I’d hear that from you. I gave you everything, denied myself for you, and this is my thanks? Sooner or later, they’ll find out you lied—then what?”
“They won’t—unless you tell them.”
Emily wept but relented. It hurt, but she wouldn’t ruin Lottie’s chance at happiness. Before Lottie left—two days later—they barely spoke. Mother and daughter had become strangers.
Now truly alone, Emily was crushed by the rift. Stress and exhaustion sent her blood pressure soaring, her heart faltering. As the ambulance sped to hospital, she fretted over not having packed properly. The driver offered to fetch what she needed after his shift. Grateful, she handed over her keys—there was nothing worth stealing anyway.
“You live simply. Place could do with a refurb. Alone, are you? No husband? No kids?” he asked when he dropped off her things.
“My daughter’s in London. Getting married…” Before she knew it, she’d poured her heart out to this stranger.
Andrew visited her in hospital a few times, and when she was discharged, he even drove her home in the ambulance.
“You’re a good sort. My missus always wanted more—a fur coat, a diamond ring. Ended up leaving me for someone richer. Miss my boy, though. Fancy if I did up your place? Handy with my hands, I am. You won’t recognise it after.”
At first, Emily refused. But Andrew wooed her with flowers. No one had paid her attention since George. She realised—she was only forty. How long could she live like this? So she gave in.
True to his word, Andrew set to work. He had a knack for it—soon, the flat was brighter, even roomier. Emily herself changed, dropping the extra jobs, hurrying home after work, smiling often.
Andrew proposed, but Emily hesitated, fearing Lottie’s reaction. She dreaded calling her—Lottie had made it clear she wasn’t to ring.
Then one evening, the doorbell rang. There stood Lottie, luggage in hand.
“Lottie! Oh, what a lovely surprise! Staying awhile, then?” Emily beamed.
Lottie took in her mother’s glow, the refurbished flat, the man’s jacket on the peg.
“You’re not alone?”
“No, love. You said not to call… Andrew’s good to me. Look what he’s done with the place—hardly recognise it. He’ll be back from work soon, you’ll see,” Emily flustered.
“So you’re married? Or is he just shacking up here? After the flat, is he?”
“Why say such things? He’s got his own place.”
“Honestly, Mum! So we’re all living here now?”
“You’re back for good, then? Didn’t fit in with the rich lot? Thought you had it made?”
Lottie scowled but confessed: at a café with Daniel, she’d bumped into an old schoolmate, Lucy, who’d blown her cover. Daniel couldn’t forgive the lie, started belittling her. Then he filed for divorce…
“Never mind, love. We’ll manage. You’re only twenty-two. Plenty of time yet.” Emily hugged her.
“Mum, don’t be daft!” Lottie shoved her away. “I won’t scrape by, not with some random bloke here.”
Just then, Andrew walked in. Hearing Lottie, he turned on his heel and left.
“Wait!” Emily calledEmily stood her ground, watching Andrew leave, then turned to Lottie and said, “I’ve lived for you long enough—now it’s my turn.”
