The Unlikely Family
«Quite the mansion,» said Emily, her university mate, as she wandered through all four rooms. «Turns out youre a wealthy bride after all.»
Eleanor sank weakly into an armchair. «Why did you come? The deans office knows I was ill.»
Emily flopped onto an old leather sofa, which creaked pitifully. Eleanor winced. The house was full of antique pieces collected by her family over decades. «Well?» she urged, eager to lie downshe felt dreadful.
«Well,» Emily drawled, «our head boy, James, asked me to check on you. He heard I live nearby. You know how pedantic he is. Wanted to know if you needed anything, especially now youre all alone. Though in a place like this…» Her envy was barely hidden.
Eleanor struggled to her feet. «Thanks for visiting, Emily. Tell James I appreciate his concern, but Im fine.» Emily rose reluctantly, following her host to the door. But she couldnt resist one last jab. «I wouldnt mind living here myself. Throw some parties. Lucky you.»
Eleanor asked without much interest, «Whos you?»
Emily blurted from the doorstep, «The blessed ones. Not of this world.»
With a curt «Goodbye,» Eleanor shut the door.
She lay down, but sleep wouldnt come. She had lived here all her life with her grandmother, Margaret. A strict woman, Margaret had drilled etiquette into Eleanor from childhood, along with French, German, and Latin. At any moment, her grandmother might switch languages, demanding Eleanor reply in kind.
Eleanor had no memory of her parents. Margaret spoke sparingly of her «ungrateful daughter,» whod borne Eleanor by a man named Alexander. Hed lured her into some commune, where, three years later, theyd perished in a firewhether during rituals or mere gatherings, Eleanor never learned the details. Not that she cared. She hadnt known them, so their loss brought little grief.
Few visited the house: the seamstress, Betty, who stitched for Margaret and Eleanor; their elderly doctor, Edward; Margarets friends, Elizabeth and Archibald; and her long-time suitor, Peter, a once-renowned jeweller.
This was Eleanors world. Starting school had terrified herso much noise and chaos. But shed adapted, learning to live in two realms: her grandmothers and the ordinary one beyond their flats walls.
Trouble struck unexpectedly. Margaret, who never bought food from strangers, suddenly brought home mushrooms. «Passed a seller and fancied them,» shed said. «Remembered the mushroom soup our old cook, Agnes, made at the cottage. Thought Id try my hand.»
The soup was delicious, fragrant. Eleanor had seconds. Grandmother fell ill first, then Eleanor. They called Dr. Edward, but his phone was dead. Later, they learned hed been away at his country home.
Margaret resisted calling an ambulanceshed trusted only Edward for years. But when she lost consciousness and Eleanors vision swam, she barely managed to dial 999. She unlocked the door just in timeparamedics found her collapsed on the threshold.
Now, only the loss remained, and life must go on. But how? Her stipend, though generous, wouldnt cover the flats upkeep, let alone food. Returning to university was uncertainnearly dying took recovery. And money.
Peter helped at first, buying a few antiques, though he underpaid. Still, it eased things briefly. But the flats costs loomed. Then Eleanor remembered her grandmothers taleshow this had once been a shared flat, later granted solely to her great-grandfather for his service to the crown.
She decided to take in lodgers. Her own room would suffice; three tenants could cover expenses. Respectable ones, preferably women.
She posted an ad online and waited. Calls flooded inall wrong. Migrant workers, families with children, giggling students asking if they could host parties.
When enquiries dried up, she considered an agencysurely theyd vet applicants properly. But en route, she spotted a young woman with two small children in the square. A girl of five gnawed a stale biscuit; a boy sobbed quietly in his mothers lap. The woman, shouting into her phone, wept. «Michael, how could you? The children are starving! Ive no milk left! Where can we go? No one will take us inleast of all your Vera! Michael, dont hang upMichael!»
Eleanor couldnt walk past. Heart aching, she approached. «Excuse meI overheard. Do you need help?» She offered a tissue.
The woman sniffled. «Not methem. My husband threw us out. No food, no shelter, no money. I dont know what to do.»
An hour later, the childrenfed and asleepleft Eleanor talking with the woman, Grace. «I was orphaned at twelve. My parents drank themselves to death. Grew up in care. When I left, I reclaimed our old flatbut it was ruined. I scrubbed it, but it needed full repairs. They told me to sell, buy something smaller. Young and foolish, I believed them. Got swindledended up with barely enough for a bed, let alone rent.»
Shed found a room with an elderly widow. «Sweet womansaid she wanted company, not money. Mightve stayed forever, but then her grandson, Michael, visited.»
Grace sighed. «Charming at first. Weak, thoughespecially with women. We moved into his parents old flat when I fell pregnant with Emily. But after little Thomas was born, he changed. Said I bored him, the kids were too loud. Then Vera appeared. She wanted himand the flat. Now were here.»
Eleanor listeneda sadly common talethen said, «I live alone. Take a room for now. Well figure out the rest.»
But plans shifted. Next came Arthur, an elderly man evicted by his sons widow after his sons death. Shed tricked him into signing over his home, promising care, then remarried and cast him out. Eleanor found him in her stairwell, dragged into the cold by a neighbour, and took him in.
Lastly, Paul, a blind young man, arrived. His guardian had robbed him blindliterallythen abandoned him. Eleanor spotted him near campus, taunted by youths tossing breadcrumbs like he was a pigeon. His lips trembled, but hunger kept him chasing their mockery.
Now, Eleanors home brims with life. Grace works as a shop cleaner; Paul, though blind, minds the children brilliantly, spinning tales he invents himself. Arthur, once a chef, turns simple ingredients into feasts.
And so Eleanor livesnever regretting it. She opens her door each day to the warm chaos of her found family, all waiting to welcome her home.
