The Price of Happiness
Daniel lay on the sofa, eyes half-closed, listening to the sounds of the house and the world outside. Through the double-glazed windows came the muffled blare of car horns, the occasional wail of a police siren or ambulance. Next door, someone was arguing, a phone rang somewhere, a door slammed shut…
He used to love lying like this, picking apart the noises, guessing which flat had the telly on too loud, which one had a couple rowing, which floor the lift would stop at…
“Daydreaming again? Did you finish your coursework?”
Daniel could’ve sworn it wasn’t his imagination—he heard his mum’s voice, distant but alive. He startled, eyes snapping open. The room was empty, the hall door ajar. If she’d stepped out of the darkness right then, he wouldn’t have been surprised. He’d have been overjoyed. But his mum would never walk through that door again. She’d died a week ago. That voice? Just phantom pain.
He sat up, feet sinking into the plush carpet. “I’ll go mad if I stay here,” he thought. “Should’ve booked a return ticket for the day after the funeral, or the next at the latest.” He braced his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, rocking slightly.
The sudden ringtone jerked him upright, his elbow slipping, head lurching forward. Daniel grabbed his phone without looking at the screen. His gaze snagged on a note on the table: *”My dear son…”*
“Daniel, it’s Aunt Martha. How are you holding up? It must be hard, all alone there. Why don’t you come stay with me?”
“I’m fine,” he muttered, setting the phone down, folding the letter, tucking it into the sideboard drawer.
He couldn’t stay alone anymore. Even voices were creeping in now. He picked the phone back up, scrolled through his contacts. *Ollie. Old uni mate. That’s who I need.*
“Ollie, mate—hi,” Daniel said when his friend answered.
“Alright? Didn’t—”
“Don’t recognise me? Quick to forget an old friend. Didn’t expect that from you.”
“Wait. Daniel?! You’re back? Where are you?” Ollie’s voice boomed through the speaker.
“Back, yeah. Clearly not missed,” Daniel said, feigning hurt.
“Course I missed you, you berk. Just didn’t expect—where are you now?”
“Home,” Daniel said, voice flattening.
Ollie’s tone shifted instantly. “Your mum?”
“Gone. Buried her a week ago. Nine days now.”
“Christ. I’m sorry. Saw her six months back—she looked thin. Barely recognised her. How long you staying?”
“Three days.”
“Want me to come over? Or—wait, better yet, come to ours. You’ll lose it cooped up there.”
“Ours?” Daniel repeated.
“Yeah, well—I’m married now. To Alice. Can you believe it? She’s here, says hi, insists you come. Get here for lunch. Just—address changed. Mortgage flat with the missus.”
“Hit me,” Daniel said briskly.
*Married. Alice fancied Ollie rotten since freshers’ week, but he was always chasing after some Sophie or Emily till I set him straight…* Daniel packed quickly, called a cab.
On the way, he asked the driver to pull over at a shop. Bought whiskey for him and Ollie, wine for Alice, chocolates, and a packet of sliced meats.
Didn’t wait for the lift—took the stairs to the sixth floor. After two days indoors, the climb felt good. Passing the third floor, he heard a whining noise—a kid? A pup? He stopped.
“Hey, who’s there?” He pressed his ear to the door.
The sound stopped. Daniel lingered, about to leave, when a low, monotonous hum started up again.
“Who’s crying?” he called.
“Not crying. Singing,” a small voice replied.
“Why sing by the door?”
“Waiting for Mum.”
“Where is she? You home alone?”
“Mum’s at Gran’s hospital. Locked me in. I’m poorly.”
“Locked in? How old are you?”
“Five. Who’re you?”
“Daniel. Heard your song walking past.”
“I’m Theo. Wanna hear my Father Christmas poem?”
“Go on,” Daniel agreed.
As Theo recited, Daniel smiled. He’d learned the same one as a kid—forgotten it since.
“Poems deserve rewards. But how do I give you one? You’re locked in. Tell you what—I’ll pop to my mate’s, then come back. Deal?”
“What reward? Are you Father Christmas?”
“Nope. Wait here,” Daniel said, heading upstairs.
Ollie yanked the door open and crushed Daniel in a bear hug.
“Bloody hell, mate! Years without a word!”
“Let the man breathe,” came Alice’s voice.
Daniel pulled back—Alice stood in the doorway. She’d changed. Glowed.
“Place is a mess—only just moved in,” Ollie said, pride oozing. *Look what I’ve got.*
Daniel whistled. “Mess? Pull the other one. It’s mint.”
“Mortgaged to the eyeballs, but our own place. Planning a sprog,” Ollie beamed.
“Food’s ready,” Alice announced.
They ate, drank, caught up.
“You married? Kids?” Alice asked.
Then Daniel remembered the boy.
“Listen—hate to ask, but any chance of some sweets or satsumas? Kid downstairs recited me a poem. Promised him a treat. Tough little bloke, home alone.”
“Course.” Alice bagged up treats.
Daniel rang the third-floor flat. No crying now. The lock clicked, and the door opened to a pretty young woman. He knew her face—just not the name.
“You?” She recognised him too.
Footsteps pattered, and Theo appeared beside her—just as Daniel pictured: bright-eyed, sweet.
“Promised you a gift. No toys, sorry.” He held out the sweets. Theo studied him solemnly.
“Can I come in?” Daniel asked the woman.
“Why?”
“Just… talk. Been years. He yours? Sharp lad.” Daniel nodded at Theo.
“Come in,” she said instead.
Daniel scrambled for her name—Hannah? Lucy? *Eliza!*
“You just wander about like that? How’d you even find me?” Eliza—definitely Eliza—asked.
“Wasn’t looking. Met Theo by chance.” He explained about Ollie.
“Theo’s dad?”
“Your friends must be waiting,” Eliza deflected.
“Yeah, I’ll go. Good seeing you,” Daniel said, meaning it.
Climbing the stairs, he marvelled at the coincidence. Ollie buying a flat in Eliza’s building. Theo crying behind a door just as Daniel passed. They might’ve never met. *She’s different now…*
Final year, New Year’s Eve party. Eliza was there—tagging along with some girls. He’d noticed her at uni, those curious glances. They drank, danced. She asked him to walk her home. He barely remembered the chat—if there was one. Somehow ended up in her flat. Cosy. Her beside him, soft, warm… She woke him later: *”Got to go. Mum’s due back.”*
At uni, he’d wave, pretending nothing happened. Twice, she tried to talk—he bolted, claiming deadlines…
*Wait.* Daniel burned. Stopped outside Ollie’s door. *Theo said he’s five. Five years ago was that New Year’s. Six months later, I left for Scotland. Means Theo… No. Can’t be. She invited me that night…*
He rang the bell.
“Finally! We were about to send search parties,” Ollie said.
“Sorry. I’ve got to go.” Daniel grabbed his jacket.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have. Sorry, both. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“Need a cab?”
“Nah. Air’ll help.”
Daniel walked blindly, the buzz wearing off fast. *What if…? No, she’s not like that. She fancied me—obvious. Means I used her and forgot?*
Home, he face-planted the sofa and howled.
Next day, he returned to Eliza’s with toys for Theo. The boy lit up, tearing into boxes. Eliza and Daniel sat in the kitchen.
“Eliza, when’s Theo’s birthday? He said it’s soon.”
“Why? You’ll be gone by then. September.”
“September. So he’s mine. Christ, I was such an idiot. Eliza, I get it—I hurt you. Thought I had all the time in the world for love, family… Why didn’t you tellThe ring still sat untouched on the table when Daniel walked back in later that night, but the look in Eliza’s eyes told him everything he needed to know—some prices are worth paying.
