“Hey, who are you looking for?” I asked.
A little girl, about six years old, stared up at me with wide, grey eyes. “Im trying to find my mum. Have you seen her?”
I hesitated. Id only just moved into this building, and as far as I knew, the flat she was standing in front of had been empty the whole time.
“But no one lives there,” I told her gently.
At that, her face crumpled, and she sank onto the stairs, tears spilling over. “Please, miss, we really need her! Dad misses her so much, and shes the only one who can fix things.”
My heart twisted. I didnt have kids of my own, and I wasnt sure how to comfort hershould I hug her? Offer her tea? But she wouldnt go off with a stranger, would she? Just then, my phone rang. I begged her to stay put and rushed offbut when I came back, she was gone.
She stayed on my mind all evening. Later, I rang my landlady, Margaret, to ask about the neighbours on our landing.
“That flats been empty for years,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
“A little girl came by today, looking for her mum.”
Margaret went quiet for a moment. “That mustve been Emily her mum, Lucy, passed away. Her husband, James, was left with the baby. Couldnt stay in that flat after everythingmoved out not long after. Been empty ever since.”
She gave me their new address, just in case the girl came back.
Life got busy, and the memory fadeduntil one evening, just before Christmas, I heard soft knocking and sniffles at my door. There she was again, the same little girl, crying.
“Whats wrong? Wheres your dad?”
“Hes at home,” she whispered. “But I need to find my mum.”
I remembered the address and dashed to find it, asking her to wait inside this time. She stepped in, glancing around before curling up on the hallway bench. By the time I found the scrap of paper, shed fallen asleep.
Carefully, I carried her to the sofa, then called Margaret again. “Remember that little girl I told you about? Shes herefell asleep while I was looking for the address. Her dad must be frantic.”
Margaret offered to check on James, and I waited, watching the girl sleep. I brushed a stray curl from her face, my chest aching. Id always wanted children, but life had other plans. Years ago, my husband, Mark, and I were over the moon when I got pregnantbut I lost the baby. Work stress, they said. The next time, I quit my job, but it happened again. Then Mark left. Last I heard, he had a daughter with someone else.
Seven years later, I was still alone, drifting between rented flats.
A soft knock snapped me out of it. I opened the doorand froze. Mark stood there.
“Mark? How?”
“Im here for my daughter. Sugar Street, number five, right?”
I nodded, stunned. “Shes asleep. Come in.”
We moved to the kitchen, the kettle humming. “Whats going on? Shes come to this landing a few times now, knocking on that empty flat.”
Mark rubbed his eyes, exhausted. “We used to live thereLucy inherited it from her grandfather. We moved in after the wedding. When she got pregnant, I was the happiest man alive.”
His voice cracked. “When it was time, I took her to the hospital. She made me promiseif anything happened, Id look after the baby. There were complications. They couldnt save her.”
I reached out, squeezing his shoulder as he fought back tears. Just then, tiny footsteps padded into the room.
“Daddy?”
Mark swept Emily into his arms. “Sweetheart, I was so worried! Why did you run off?”
“I just wanted to find Mum.”
“We will,” he murmured. “But not like this. Lets go home.”
Before leaving, he handed me his card. “Call me if she comes back. We live closeshe knows the way now.”
“How did she even know about this flat?” I asked.
“I showed her,” he admitted. “Had to collect some things. She saw Lucys photos and I told her Mum was away but would come back someday.”
They left, but Mark called a few days later. Slowly, we started seeing each other againweekends in the park, cafés, cinema trips. Emily clung to me, even calling me “Mum” once.
Then one day, Mark took my hands. “Irene, move in with us. No more renting. Emily misses you. So do I.”
His voice dropped. “Im sorry for everything.”
Now, were togetherraising our little joy, Emily. Every day, I thank fate for this priceless gift: to be a wife, a mother.
And even if she isnt mine by blood, nothing stops me from giving her every bit of love Ive got.
