Lonely Maisie…
For weeks, Maisie had been quietly observing the new neighbour across the hall—a woman in her early thirties named Emily, who’d moved in with her four-year-old daughter, Lily. Freshly divorced, Emily was adjusting to life on her own, dropping Lily off at the nursery just around the corner.
Maisie and Emily struck up a tentative friendship, exchanging polite smiles in the corridor. Barely a week later, Maisie found herself babysitting Lily on a Saturday while Emily dashed off to some mysterious “meeting”—which Maisie suspected was actually a date.
“Lily’s no trouble, she’ll just play with her dolls on the floor,” Emily assured her. “You can carry on with your day. I’ll be back by tonight—thank you for helping out!”
Maisie shrugged, but she couldn’t shake the thought of a single mother abandoning her sweet little girl for a rendezvous.
Her own life hadn’t turned out as planned. At twenty-eight, she should’ve been settling down with a husband and children by now, but neither had materialised.
“You’re too old-fashioned,” her friends would say. “Always knitting instead of going out, waiting for Prince Charming to show up on a white horse.”
Maisie agreed—but did nothing. Shy and self-conscious about her curves, she didn’t think herself much of a catch.
Now, with Lily frequently curling up in her flat for stories and plasticine animals, Maisie couldn’t fathom how Emily could leave such a darling child behind for some bloke.
To Maisie, family—especially children—was a precious gift. She adored Lily, reading to her, playing, even baking together.
“Oh, Maisie, I’ll never repay you,” Emily whispered one night, collecting a sleepy Lily. “You’re an absolute lifesaver.”
“What about Lily’s father?” Maisie ventured one evening. “Does he visit? She talks about him sometimes—seems she misses him.”
“He would, but he’s always away on business trips,” Emily sighed. “That’s why we split—one month here, two months gone. But he’ll be back soon, and then you’ll get a break. He spoils her rotten with toys—should really just send more money.”
Sure enough, Lily’s father soon appeared—tall, fair-haired James, who scooped her up outside the building and held her tight. Watching from her kitchen window, Maisie even teared up at the sight of their reunion.
Days later, James knocked on her door to collect Lily—now a regular visitor whenever Emily was out shopping.
“Thank you so much for looking after her,” he said warmly. “Lily adores you—always says, ‘My Maisie.’”
“Daddy, come have tea with us!” Lily called from the kitchen, munching on a scone.
“Well, might as well,” Maisie chuckled. “Freshly baked—help yourself.”
James bit into one and raised his eyebrows. “Homemade? Blimey, didn’t think anyone our age still baked.”
Lily beamed. “When I’m bigger, Maisie’ll teach me! Then I’ll feed you both scones every day!”
James laughed, but his smile faded when Lily added, “Mummy won’t pick me up till late tonight.”
Maisie stayed quiet. James’s expression darkened before he took Lily out to play. Later, he returned, hesitating.
“Could you… take Lily overnight sometimes? She misses you.”
“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “But I start work at dawn, clear across town—wouldn’t be fair to drag her up so early. Plus, her nursery’s here, and Emily…” He trailed off. “But I’m thinking of moving closer.”
The next time James fetched Lily, he invited Maisie to join them. She tried to decline, but Lily clung to her.
“Come on, Maisie! I’ll show you how to make sand pies!”
So off they went to the park, where Lily darted between the swings and the slide, glancing back often at her dad and Maisie. James grew restless as dusk fell.
“When’s Emily ever going to grow up?” he muttered. “Leaving Lily like this—it’s why we divorced.”
Maisie stayed silent.
“Does she even pay you for all this?” James asked sharply on their way back.
Maisie shook her head.
“So you’re just… stuck? No nights out, no rest, no life of your own?” he fumed. “I assumed there was an arrangement!”
Maisie sighed. “We’re friends, really. And Lily’s become like family.”
“What about *your* life, Maisie?” James pressed. “Ever been married? Anyone special?”
“Never married, no children… not yet.”
James exhaled. “Right.” He tried to leave money on the sideboard, but Maisie refused.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll find another way to thank you.”
That Sunday, as Maisie tidied her flat, the doorbell rang.
“Fancy joining us for a cuppa?” James stood there, holding Lily’s hand. “It’s the town festival—thought we’d celebrate.”
Off they went, a trio for the first time—while Emily, peering from her window, smirked.
“Match made in heaven. She’s perfect for you, you daft sod.”
Little did she know how quickly her ex-husband and her neighbour would become inseparable. Lily was the glue, darting between flats, tugging at Maisie’s sleeve for walks.
“Have you even *met* him properly?” Emily snapped one day, catching Maisie before a date.
“I think so… but you’re divorced. Why do you care?”
“Not about him—about *you*, you twit. Don’t throw yourself at the first bloke who glances your way just because you’re pushing thirty.”
“Charming,” Maisie muttered as Emily stormed off. Then, squaring her shoulders, she headed downstairs—where James and Lily waited on the bench.
Neighbours gossiped, but Maisie was well-liked—quiet, kind, the sort who’d lived alone for years without a fuss.
“My parents split when I was Lily’s age,” she confessed to James one evening. “I cried myself to sleep for months. They remarried, moved on… I stayed here. Never quite fit into their new lives.”
James listened, throat tight.
“So *that’s* why you help Lily?”
“Because she’s me—just younger. And I pray she hurts less than I did.”
James swallowed. “You’re brilliant, Maisie. Marry me. Or—don’t say no yet. If you don’t love me, fine… but give me a chance. Let me hope.”
Maisie studied him. “Do you love *me*? Or just want someone to love *you*?”
“Course I love you. How could I not? You’re… everything.”
She hesitated—then burst into quiet tears.
“Never thought I’d get proposed to on a park bench,” she laughed wetly. “I’ve sat here dreaming of this for years.”
They embraced—just as Lily barrelled over, clambering onto James’s lap and grinning at Maisie like she’d known all along.
Eventually, James and Maisie married, moving nearby so Lily could float between homes. And when their son was born, Lily—now the proud big sister—visited even more, helping with nappies and bedtime stories.
