**»We Didn’t Expect You»**
The door clicked shut behind her sisters cold words.
*»Mum died three days ago, and you’re only just arriving?»* The voice on the phone trembled with barely restrained anger.
Emily pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder, struggling to keep hold of her heavy bag while fumbling for her car keys. The rain hammered against the station awning, the sound deafening.
*»Claire, I explainedI was on assignment in Scotland. There was no signal. The second I found out, I caught the first flight.»*
*»Work was more important than Mum?»*
*»Dont start. Im coming. Ill be there in an hour.»*
The line went dead. Emily sank into the rented car and sat motionless, staring at the blurred city lights through the rain-streaked windshield. Her hometown, the place shed left fifteen years ago. At twenty-five, shed been determined to conquer London. Her mother had wept, her father had stayed silent, and Claireher younger sisterhad screamed that she was a traitor.
The drive to their parents house took longer than expected. The city had changednew estates, shopping centres, motorway exits. But as she neared the old centre, the streets grew familiar. There was the bakery where she and Claire used to buy warm scones. The school, its paint peeling. And finally, their street, quiet, lined with hedges and benches.
The house stood at the end of the cul-de-sac. A two-storey with an attic, once white, now grey with age. Light spilled from the windows, shadows moving behind the curtains. Emily parked by the gate, grabbed her bag, and took a steadying breath.
The gate was unlocked. Under the shelter of the backyard awning, tables were draped in white clothsthe wake. A few people stood smoking by the porch, murmuring in low voices. They fell silent when they saw her.
*»Hello,»* she said.
No one answered. Aunt Margaret, her mothers friend, turned away. Uncle Roy, the neighbour, shook his head. Emily walked past them, climbed the porch steps, and pulled the door.
*Locked.*
She rang the bell. Footsteps, then the click of the latch. Claire appeared in the doorwayolder now, bitterness etched around her mouth, dressed in black.
*»We didnt expect you,»* she said, and shut the door.
Emily stood there, uncomprehending. Whispers rose behind her. She rang again. Silence. Knocked.
*»Claire! Claire, open up! This is ridiculous!»*
The door opened a crack, the chain still fastened.
*»Go away,»* Claire said. *»You dont belong here.»*
*»I came to say goodbye to Mum!»*
*»Too late. We buried her yesterday.»*
*»But you said she died three days ago!»*
*»And what? Thought youd make it in time? Fifteen years, Emily. Fifteen years of nothing, and now you show up?»*
*»Claire, let me in. Lets talk properly.»*
*»Properly? Like when Dad died? You didnt even come then!»*
*»I was in Kenya! On an expedition! No signal!»*
*»Always an excuse. Kenya, Antarctica, fieldwork. And Mum and I were here. She was ill for three years, Em. Three years! Where were you?»*
Emily said nothing. Shed known Mum was sick. Sent money for treatment. But coming home? There was always somethingresearch deadlines, conferences, grants.
*»I sent money.»*
*»Money?»* Claire let out a sharp laugh. *»She didnt want your cheques. She wanted you. But you chose your career.»*
*»Thats not fair.»*
*»Whats not fair? That I quit my job to care for her? That my husband left because I spent more nights at the hospital than home? That my son barely knows me because I was always with her?»*
The door slammed. Emily stepped down from the porch and sat on the garden bench. The rain had stopped, but droplets still fell from the trees. Inside, voices murmured, cutlery clinked.
*»Emily?»*
She turned. A woman in her forties stood nearby.
*»Im Sarah. I moved in next door a few years back. Your mum talked about you often.»*
*»Did she?»*
*»She was so proud. Said you were a scientist, travelling the world, publishing papers. She kept newspaper clippings.»*
Emilys throat tightened.
*»Did she tell you I abandoned her?»*
*»You didnt abandon anyone. Life just took you different places. Margaret understood that.»*
*»Claire doesnt.»*
*»Shes angry. Its been hard. But that doesnt mean shes right.»*
Sarah sat beside her. *»Your mum left you a letter. Asked me to give it to you if you came.»*
*»A letter?»*
Sarah handed her an envelope. Her mothers handwriting on the front: *»For Emmy.»*
*»Thank you,»* Emily whispered, fingers trembling.
*»If you need anythinggreen door, next house.»*
Sarah left. Emily sat clutching the letter, too afraid to open it. She stood, walked toward the car. Then an older man stepped outUncle George, her mothers brother.
*»Emily? You made it.»*
*»Uncle George.»* She hugged him. *»At least youre glad to see me.»*
*»Course I am. Come inside.»*
*»Claire wont let me in.»*
*»Nonsense. This is your home too.»*
He took her hand and led her back to the porch, unlocking the door with his key.
*»Claire!»* he called. *»Emilys here.»*
Her sister emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
*»Uncle George, I told you»*
*»No, you didnt. She has every right to be here.»*
*»She abandoned them!»*
*»Enough. Margaret wouldnt have wanted this.»*
*»How would you know what Mum wanted?»*
*»Because I sat with her those last days. All she talked about was you, Emily. Begged me to tell you she forgave you if you didnt make it back.»*
Claire leaned against the wall, covering her face.
*»Its not fair. I did everything for her, and she only thought of Emily.»*
*»She loved you too,»* Uncle George said softly. *»Differently. You were here. Emily was far away. We worry more about whats out of sight.»*
Inside, the wake was winding down. Twenty-odd relatives and neighbours fell quiet when Emily entered.
*»Hello,»* she said.
A few nodded. Others looked away. Aunt Louise, her fathers sister, stood and approached.
*»Emily, Im so sorry. Your mum was a wonderful woman.»*
*»Thank you.»*
Others offered condolences, one by one. Only Claire stood apart, arms folded.
*»Eat something,»* Aunt Margaret insisted, setting a plate before her. *»You must be starving.»*
*»Im not hungry.»*
*»Margaret wouldve wanted you to.»*
Emily picked up a spoon and tasted the soup. Her mothers recipe. A lump rose in her throat.
*»Tell us about your work,»* Uncle George said. *»Margaret said youre at the university now?»*
*»Yes, marine biology. Researching coastal ecosystems.»*
*»Still travelling?»*
*»When I have to.»*
*»No husband yet?»* Aunt Louise asked.
*»No. Never happened.»*
*»Career woman,»* Claire muttered. *»Family doesnt matter.»*
*»Claire»* Uncle George warned.
*»What? Its true. No husband, no kids. Just work.»*
Emily stood.
*»You know what? Yes. I chose my career. And I dont regret it. What I do mattersprotecting oceans for the next generation.»*
*»But you couldnt protect your own mum,»* Claire shot back.
*»Cancer doesnt care about research!»*
*»But being there helps! Holding her hand, making tea, staying up when the pain was bad!»*
*»I couldnt do it!»* Emily shouted. *»Understand? I couldnt watch her fade! I was a coward, yes! I ran! But that doesnt mean I didnt love her!»*
Silence. Claire stepped closer.
*»Know what she said at the end? ‘Wheres my Emmy? Why isnt she here?’ And I lied. Told her you were coming. Every day, I lied.»*
*»Im sorry.»*
*»For what? That I carried it all alone? That Mum died saying your name, not mine?»*
*»Claire»*
*»No. You waltz in, cry at the wake, then fly back to your perfect life. And I stay here. In this empty house, with the debts, with a son who barely knows me.»*
*»What debts? I sent money.»*
*»Not enough. I mortgaged the house.»*
*»What? Why didnt you tell me?»*
*»Pride. And what would it change? More cheques? No thanks.»*
Emily pulled out her phone.
*»What are you doing?»*
*»Calling the bank.»*
*»Emily, dont»*
*»I can do this much.»*
By the time she finished, the guests had left. Only Claire and Uncle George remained.
*»Girls,»* he said gently. *»Enough. Margaret wouldnt want this.»*
*»Mum wanted a lot of things,»* Claire muttered.
*»Read it,»* he said, nodding at the letter in Emilys hands. *»Might help.»*
He left. The sisters sat alone. Emily opened the envelope.
*»My darling Emmy. Dont blame yourself. Im not angry. Youre living as you must. Im proud of youproud my daughter is changing the world. Claires hurting, but shell come around. Help each other. Youre sisters. Dad would hate this rift. I love you. Always. Mum.»*
Emily passed the letter to Claire, who read it and broke down.
*»She always did this. Forgiving everyone.»*
*»She was kind.»*
*»Too kind. Im not. Im angryat you, at myself, at everything.»*
Emily hugged her.
*»You have every right. I was selfish.»*
*»But Mum forgave you.»*
*»Will you?»*
Claire wiped her eyes. *»I dont know. Maybe. Not yet.»*
*»Thats enough for now.»*
They sat together in the empty house as night fell.
*»Tell me about her,»* Emily whispered. *»The last few years.»*
*»She was ill. Hopeful. Read all your papers. Bragged to the neighbours.»*
*»At the end?»*
*»Went peacefully. In her sleep. She smiled.»*
*»Im coming back,»* Emily said suddenly. *»Stay with me in London. The house is big enough. Harry can go to a better school.»*
Claire stared. *»Youre serious?»*
*»Sell the house, clear the debts. Fresh start.»*
*»I cant just»*
*»Think about it.»*
Morning came. Emily woke in her childhood roomunchanged, frozen in time. Downstairs, Claire cooked breakfast while Harry, a spitting image of her at that age, watched curiously.
*»This is Aunt Emily. My sister.»*
*»Hello,»* Harry said, offering his hand.
*»Mum says you study whales!»*
*»All of the ocean,»* Emily smiled.
*»Can I go on an expedition?»*
*»When youre older.»*
Over breakfast, Harry chattered excitedly about Londons museums, the aquarium. *»Mum, can we visit Aunt Emily?»*
Claire hesitated. *»Well see.»*
Later, at the cemetery, Emily laid white roses on the fresh grave. *»Im sorry, Mum.»*
Claire squeezed her hand. *»She forgave you.»*
*»It still hurts.»*
*»It will. But not forever.»*
As they walked back, Claire paused. *»Remember when we promised wed live together when we grew up?»*
*»You wanted a garden.»*
*»You wanted a sea view.»*
*»The Thames isnt the sea, but its something.»*
Claire smiled faintly. *»Its a start.»*
That evening, as Emily packed to leave, Claire hugged her tightly.
*»Sorry about yesterday. I was angry.»*
*»Id have done the same.»*
*»No, you wouldnt. Youre not like me.»*
*»But youre honest. That matters more.»*
*»Come back in a month,»* Claire said. *»Help me move.»*
*»Ill be here.»*
*»And dont disappear for another fifteen years.»*
*»I wont. Promise.»*
Driving away, Emily watched Claire and Harry wave from the gate. The house didnt look so lonely anymore.
Her phone buzzeda text from Claire:
*»The door was always open. I was just in the way. Not anymore.»*
Emily smiled.
Mum wouldve been happy.
