**The Secret of the Old Photograph**
James and Emily studied in the same class. She was just an ordinary girl—nothing special. But whether love had finally found its moment or something in Emily had changed, one day James looked at her with new eyes, as if seeing her for the first time, and the world spun upside down, transformed in the gaze of a lovesick boy.
After lectures, he’d wait for her by the university gates. But she dashed past, barely noticing him, straight into the arms of another man. The two walked off together, leaving James standing there, watching long after they vanished from sight, swallowing disappointment and resentment.
What had he expected? That she’d wait forever for him to finally see her? A girl like Emily was bound to have someone.
One day, she arrived at lectures with red, tear-stained eyes, unusually quiet and withdrawn. Again, he waited for her by the gates. This time, no one came to meet her, so James dared to approach.
“Going home?” he asked.
“No, to my grandmother’s. I’m staying with her. She’s ill.”
Emily explained her grandmother had high blood pressure and bad joints, worse in spring. Some days, she couldn’t even step outside.
James walked beside her, hardly listening, floating on cloud nine. His heart pounded with joy, her name pulsing through his mind—Emily, Emily, Emily.
She lived three stops from the university.
“Not inviting you in. Gran isn’t well,” she apologized outside her house.
The next day, James asked how her grandmother was.
“Alright. But Mum came last night with her new husband. Gran got so worked up, her blood pressure spiked—we had to call an ambulance. Wish she hadn’t bothered.”
*So, Emily doesn’t get on with her stepfather. Maybe that’s why she moved in with her gran?* But James didn’t pry.
Just before summer exams, Emily’s grandmother passed away. James supported her through grief and funeral arrangements. After, Emily stayed in her grandmother’s flat.
“Not afraid of Gran’s ghost?” James teased one evening, walking her home.
“No. She had a temper, but she was kind to me.”
One day, James mustered courage to ask about the man who’d met her at the university. Emily’s face darkened.
“He married my mother.”
“Imagine that—now he’s my stepfather,” she muttered, lowering her head.
After their first exam, Emily invited James over. The flat was old-world—heavy, dark furniture and faded wallpaper. An album lay open on the table.
“May I?” James gestured.
“Go ahead. I was picking a photo for Gran’s grave.” Emily sat beside him, flipping through pages with quiet comments.
“Me as a baby. Mum and Dad before I was born.”
“Your parents divorced?” James recalled her mother’s remarriage.
“Dad couldn’t handle Mum’s temper. They split when I was little. He’s got another family now—we don’t speak.”
“Who’s this?” James pointed to a stern-faced woman, lips pressed tight.
“That’s Gran—no sugarcoating. She was like that towards the end.” Emily turned a page.
“And here she is young. Pretty, isn’t she?”
A bright-eyed girl in a floral dress smiled from the photo. James barely recognized her but stayed silent.
Emily turned another page.
“Wait—go back.” James pointed. “Is this your gran too?”
The same young woman stood arm-in-arm with a man.
“No idea. Probably a friend or relative. Gran never looked through albums with me.” She frowned. “James, what’s wrong?”
His gaze locked on the photo.
“I should go.” He snapped the album shut, dust swirling. “I’ll call tomorrow.” At the door, he hesitated—words unspoken—then left.
Instead of going home, James took the Tube across London to his grandfather’s flat, lost in thought the whole ride.
“James! Long time. Come in.” His grandfather’s face lit up.
“How’s university? Any exams yet? Seeing anyone?”
“All good. Got a first on today’s exam.”
“Brilliant. Let’s celebrate.” His grandfather busied himself with the kettle while James approached the bookcase.
“Looking for something?” The old man’s quiet approach startled him.
“That photo album you had…”
“Down here.” His grandfather retrieved an old album. “Who you hunting for?”
James sat, flipping pages. His grandfather watched, puzzled. Suddenly, James froze—a torn photo slipped between pages.
“Is this you? Who’s missing from the other half?”
His grandfather flinched.
“No one. Just half a photo.” But unease flickered in his eyes.
“I was at a girl’s place today. She showed her gran’s album. Same photo—whole. You and a young woman, her grandmother.”
His grandfather stood abruptly, pacing. The kettle whistled, but he didn’t return.
James found him slumped at the kitchen table, head in hands.
“You alright?” He placed the torn photo down.
“What’s her name? Your girl.”
“Emily.”
“Her grandmother?”
James remembered the framed photo in Emily’s flat—dates and full name scribbled on the back.
“Margaret Elizabeth Hawthorne. Did you know her? Before Nan?”
“Just say her name,” his grandfather insisted.
James complied. His grandfather sighed heavily.
“Can’t outrun the past. Secrets always surface.”
James had never seen him so diminished—shoulders stooped, as if weighed down.
“Grandad, I love Emily. I need to know what tied you to her gran.”
“Missteps of youth. Reckless choices.” He sighed. “Fine. Maybe my mistake’ll save you from yours.”
“Emily’s no mistake,” James shot back.
“You’ll decide that after my story.”
***
Born after the war, I was a true believer in the system. School, army, then a job at the railway works. Met Margaret—Maggie—there. Beautiful, impossible not to love. Lost my head entirely.
Lads warned me about her reputation, but I didn’t care. Bought flowers, walked her home. One day, out of the blue, she said yes to marriage.
We got a council flat. I was over the moon. Then I noticed changes—her figure, a rounding belly. Too soon for a baby. She confessed—*I married you pregnant.*
“Think we’d have gotten this flat otherwise? I’d never have looked at you twice.”
Those words shattered me. Still, I loved her—forgave her.
Came home one day to find her with my boss. Threw him out. Lost my job, my pride. Maggie made it clear she’d never loved me. I packed a suitcase and left.
Found work on building sites. Met your Nan. Not a beauty, but steady, kind. Good cook. What more did I need? But Maggie still haunted me.
We had a son—your dad’s elder brother. Drowned at seven. A year later, your dad was born.
Years later, I ran into Maggie. Thought I’d moved on—but no. Old feelings flared. She claimed to be dying—*I need you.* I bought medicines, gave money.
“Go to her,” your Nan said. “We’ll manage.”
Stood there with that same suitcase—couldn’t leave. Your Nan was right. No illness—just another lie.
She died, then—just now, you tell me. God rest her.
But your Nan… lost her first boy, then her heart gave out. My fault.
***
“And now you’re in love with her granddaughter.” His grandfather shook his head. “Judge that family. If Emily’s like Maggie—God help you.”
“No. She’s nothing like that. Loved her gran, despite everything. Now I understand why she and her mum clashed—sent away as a child, never forgiven.”
“Take your time. Watch Emily close.”
James pulled up her photo.
“Serious girl. Well… God willing.” His grandfather sighed. “Never thought I’d speak of Maggie again. Of all girls, her granddaughter. Told no one—but maybe it’s time.”
“There’s no one else for me. But no marriage talk yet—degree first. I won’t tell Emily. She’s been hurt enough. Thanks for trusting me.” James hugged him.
After James left, his grandfather reopened the album. Behind a family photo, he retrieved the missing half—a young woman’s face.
“Gone, then. Ripped my soul to shreds. Run all you like—can’t escape yourself.”
He tucked it away, sat in the dark, and remembered—love, regret, a life half-lived.
