No good tale is truly complete without love.
Eight-year-old Daisy walked home from school when an unbearable longing to see her mother, who lived in the neighbouring village, struck her. Instead of heading to the house she shared with her father and grandmother, she turned toward the bus stop, waited, and boarded the next coach.
«Why couldnt Mum stay with Dad? Hes so good to me,» she thought. «I did live with her once, but I hated being left alone while she brought that drunkard Tom home. Even though Im happy with Dad and Gran, I still miss her.»
Daisy stepped off the bus and made her way to her mothers cottage. As she walked down the lane, she spotted Irene slumped on a bench outside, clearly intoxicated.
«Oh, my little duck, whereve you sprung from?» Irene slurred, wrapping her arms around the girl.
«Mum, I missed you,» Daisy confessed, returning the embrace.
They exchanged a few words before Irene abruptly asked, «Daisy, have you got any money?»
«Only enough for the bus back.»
«What dyou mean, thats all? Whyd you come if youve got nothing? I need moneydont you understand?»
«But I dont have any, Mum,» Daisy whispered.
«Then toddle back to your precious father. Weve seen each otherthats enough. Ill find my own money.» With that, Irene spotted a woman down the lane and stumbled after her.
Daisy stood frozen in the middle of the road, watching her mother leave with a bitter ache in her chest. Only now did she realise she meant nothing to Ireneher father, Oliver, and Gran were all she truly had. Heartbroken, she wandered off in the wrong direction, mistaking a small grove for the woods, her tears blurring the path ahead. When she finally stopped, the trees closed in around her, and she wept harder, realising she was lost.
Oliver had met Irene years ago at the village hall, where she and her friends had come for the dances. He fancied her at once, whisking her onto the floor and keeping her close all evening. Irene didnt mind one bit.
All autumn, Oliver rode his motorbike to her village, and when winter came, he proposed.
«Come on, Irene, lets marry. Im sick of riding back and forth. Well live with meMothers kind, youll get on fine,» he urged.
She needed no convincing. Shed come to his village in the first place because none of the lads in hers would have her.
«All right, lets wed,» she said simply. Oliver was overjoyedshe was a beauty, after all.
After the wedding, they moved in with Olivers mother, Alice, who welcomed Irene as her own. A year later, little Daisy was born, Alices treasured granddaughter. For a time, all seemed welluntil Oliver noticed motherhood weighed heavy on Irene.
«Give it time, son,» Alice assured him. «Its just the baby bluesshell settle.»
But when Daisy turned three, Irene changed. Suddenly, she was always off with her friends, coming home drunk. The quiet life bored her. Oliver waited, hoping shed come to her senses, but things only worsened.
«Im off to Nancys for her birthday,» she announced one evening.
«Go on, then,» Oliver agreed, knowing she hated being cooped up.
She didnt return that night. By morning, when Oliver and Alice sat down to breakfast, Irene stumbled in.
«Oh, why arent you lot asleep?» she mumbled, swaying, before collapsing onto the bed still dressed.
Oliver hadnt known Irene had a taste for drink. In her village, many knew shed followed her mothers footsteps, but no one had told himhe hadnt visited since their wedding.
On his day off, he rode to her village. Daisy was growing up without a mothers care, and Oliver wondered if he even loved Irene anymore. Drunk and dishevelled, she often vanishedonce, she disappeared for a week.
«Dad, wheres Mum?» Daisy would ask. «I miss herwhere is she?»
«In the village»
«Bring her home, Dad,» the five-year-old begged.
That Sunday, Oliver went to fetch her. She wasnt home, but her own mother pointed him to Toms cottage. Inside, a drunken crowd roared, and Irene sat giggling on Toms lap.
Spotting Oliver, she scrambled up.
«Ollie, love, its not what you think! Thank goodness youre hereIve missed you»
For a week, Irene stayed sober, as if reborn. Oliver wrestled with forgiveness but relentedfor Daisys sake. He didnt understand the grip drink had on her. Ten days later, Irene was at it again, worse than ever, even shouting in the yard for all to hear:
«Ive had it with the lot of you! You and your saintly mother, watching my every move. And Daisy? I dont need hershes old enough. Im sick of pretending to be a good mother!»
That was the end for Oliver. He wouldnt let his daughter suffer a drunk for a mother. Irene fled to her village, but two weeks later, she returned and snatched Daisy while Oliver was out. She shoved Alice aside and vanished with the girl.
The next day, Oliver stormed into Irenes village, but she hurled abuse and refused to hand Daisy over. So he went to the towns social services. When the officers arrived, they found Irene passed out, entwined with Tom, while Daisy stared bleakly out the window.
They took Daisy back to Oliver. Soon after, he filed for divorce and stripped Irene of her rights. Daisy started school. One evening, Oliver returned from town and called out as he entered:
«Im home, Mumstarving! Daisy, look what Ive brought you!»
Alice laid the table while Daisy rushed out, flinging herself into her fathers arms. He spun her around, laughing. Alice watched her son with tense eyes until he noddedthen she sighed in relief, pulling treats from the larder.
«Mum, not all at oncewell burst!» Oliver chuckled.
But Alice bustled about, thinking how, though her son was thirty-three, the weight of raising Daisy now fell squarely on his shoulders. Later, when Daisy scampered off, she asked,
«Well? How did it go? What did Irenes solicitor say?»
«What could he say?» Oliver scoffed. «Even he was shocked. Irene turned up drunk, barely stringing two words together. The judge didnt hesitateDaisy stays with me. Irene lost all rights.»
«About time. What kind of mother could she be, always in her cups?»
Daisy thrived with her father and Gran, seldom dwelling on Irene. Alice knew a girl needed her motherbut not one like that.
At twenty-six, Agatha loved the wilds, often foraging alone for mushrooms and berries. Shed lost her way a few times, even spent nights in the woods, but fear never touched her. Her grandfather, George, a former gamekeeper, had taught her to build shelters and light fires.
One afternoon in early September, Agatha wandered deep into the woods, lost in thought as mushrooms lured her further. Only when the shadows lengthened did she realise shed gone astray again.
«Right. Best rest, maybe build a sheltersomeone might already be searching.» Shed told her mother she was foraging, after all.
The air grew chilly, but her jumper and old jacket kept her warm. She gathered kindling for a fire.
«Please, no rain,» she murmuredthen a twig snapped behind her.
A small girl stood there, trembling, her face streaked with tears.
«Who are you?» Agatha asked.
«Daaaaaisy,» she wailed. «Im loooost!»
«Hush now, Daisytears wont help. Where dyou live?» Agatha draped her jumper over the girls shoulders.
By the fire, Daisy spilled her tale.
«Dad and Gran must be looking for methey dont know I went to Mums»
«Dont fret. Im lost too. Which village is your mum in?»
Daisy named it, and Agatha pieced together their rough locationfar from her own village. How had she strayed so far?
«Right. Its nearly darkwell search for the road at first light.» Exhausted, they dozed off, but at dawn, they trudged toward the distant hum of traffic.
«Daisy, listenthats the road! I think I know the way»
At last, they reached the highway. Meanwhile, Oliver had rallied the village, even fetching the constable to Irenesbut she barely recalled Daisys visit. Oliver nearly struck her before the constable held him back.
«Dont, Oliver. Its not worth it.»
Agatha and Daisy walked hand in hand when a car screeched to a halt.
«Dad! Daddy!» Daisy shrieked, darting forward. Agatha stayed put. «Thats my dad, Agatha! Thats him!»
Fury lined Olivers face as he rounded on Agatha.
«Who are you? Whered you get my daughter?»
«Dad, dont shout! She saved mefound me in the woods!»
«Fine. Were going to the constable.»
«So much for helping people,» Agatha muttered, climbing into the car.
Later, under the midday sun, Oliver shifted awkwardly, ashamed of his outburst.
«Ill take you home. But first, come to oursGrans beside herself, and shell feed us. You must be starving.»
«I shouldnt intrude»
«Im the one whos sorry, Agatha. I was out of line.»
She smiled, already knowing his story from Daisy. And she felt itthis meeting wasnt chance. Oliver liked her. She liked him. And as all good tales go, love would surely follow.
It did. Six months later, Oliver and Agatha marriedand no one was happier than Daisy.
