Late one night, the phone rang. I picked it up and heard my daughters voice.
«Mum, its me, Emily. Ive got a problem! My husbands kicked me out. Im coming to stay with you and Dad tomorrow morning.»
«Listen, Emily, you dont have parents or a home anymore.»
«What?» she cut in. «What did you say? How can there be no home? Im your only daughterI have a right to that flat!» she shrieked hysterically.
«Thats just how it is,» I replied calmly. «You dont have a flat. We gave it to Charlotteshe owns it now. And Dad and I want nothing to do with you. Youre not our daughter. Dont call again. Youve lost everything.» I ended the call firmly. After what Emily had done, I had every right to say it.
Staring out the window, I suddenly remembered how this whole mess had started with another phone call.
That awful call came early one morning. I jumped out of bed and rushed to the landline.
«Hello?»
A choked sob came from the other end.
«Yes, hello? Who is this?»
«Margaret, its me, Alice.»
«Alice, you scared me half to death! Do you know what time it is?»
«I know. Margaret, Im going into hospital today for surgery, and Im terrified for my daughter. Please, you and George, dont abandon Charlotte. Shes still so little. Dont send her to an orphanage.»
My sister Alice had always been eccentricimaginative, unconventional. But this was beyond anything.
I twisted the phone cord nervously, sensing something serious had happenedsomething I couldnt yet grasp. I was frightened.
«Alice, why didnt you tell me sooner? Whats wrong? Where are they taking you?»
Alice had been ill for years but never made a fuss. The last month, the pain worsened. She lost weight, looked gaunt. The diagnosis was grimshe needed urgent surgery. Shed hesitated to tell me, knowing I already helped her constantly, gave her money, acted like a mother to her. And now she was dumping her problemsand her childon me again.
«Margaret, they cant guarantee the surgery will work. Please, dont abandon Charlotte.»
An hour later, we were at the hospital. The surgery hadnt started yet, but we couldnt see Alice. In the hallway, little Charlotte sat curled up. I hugged her.
«Are they going to hurt Mummy?» she asked, eyes brimming with tears.
«No, love. Mummy wont feel a thingshell be asleep.»
Four hours later, the doctor came out and told us my little sister had died.
We took Charlotte home. I walked into my daughters room and told her Charlottes mum had passed and that shed be sharing her room. Emily glared but stayed silent.
Ten days later, Emily threw Charlottes things out and banned her from the room.
Talking to Emily was pointless. She dug her heels in, swore shed chuck Charlottes stuff out every time we tried. To avoid war, we gave our niece our bedroom and moved into the lounge.
Charlotte was an orphan. We never found out who her father was. Now her fate rested with us. So we never treated her differentlyshe and Emily were both our daughters.
Time passed. Emily graduated uni, married a wealthy older man named Richard. Neither the age gap nor his money bothered her. She packed up fast and moved in with him.
A month later, she announced the wedding.
«Mum, just make sure your favouritethat little suck-up Charlotteisnt there. I dont want to see her.»
«Emily, you cant do that. Charlottes your sister. Not inviting her is an insult to us.»
«Shes not coming!» Emily snapped.
«Then neither are we.»
«Fine! Suits me!»
I burst into tears but pulled myself together and decided to book a spa break in Brighton.
«What about Emilys wedding?» George asked, stunned.
«Nothing. Were not invited.»
«Charlotte, help me find a nice spa.»
«Were going on holiday?»
«Yes, love. We can afford it.»
«Hurrah!» she cheered, spinning around the room.
The three of us stayed close. Charlotte finished school brilliantly and got into uni to study Architecture. Her mother, Alice, had been a talented painter, well-known in her circles. Charlotte took after heror, as George suspected, her father.
«A certain well-known bloke in town might be her dad,» hed say.
I ignored that. Charlotte was ours.
A year later, we celebrated Charlottes 18thand that same day, George collapsed. He went pale, passed out. The ambulance took him to hospital.
The doctor said it was serious. Only an expensive imported medicine could help. They could order itdelivered in three days. The problem? The cost was astronomical.
I rang Emily, knowing Richard had money.
She answered. I explained.
«Emily, love, your dads ill. He needs this medicineits pricey, but well pay you back.»
Silence. Just as I went to repeat myself, she spoke.
«Alright, Mum. Ill talk to Richard and call you back.»
An hour later, she did.
«Mum, thing is Richards promised me a new carfinally! But hes given me an ultimatum. Either I get the car, or we give you the money.»
«Emily, well pay you backevery penny.»
«Dont be daft. When? Bit by bit? Ill never see that car!»
«Are you hearing yourself? Your dad could die!»
«I cant help. Get a loan if youre desperate.»
The phone slipped from my hand. I nearly fainted.
«Aunt Margaret, whats wrong?»
Charlotte caught me as I swayed. I sobbed uncontrollably.
«Listen, Aunt Margaretlets sell Mums flat. I cant bear living there anyway. Sell it cheap, get the deposit for the medicine. Uncle Georges life matters more.»
«Love, we cantits yours! What would your mother say?»
«Aunt Margaretreally? Nows not the time! Uncle George could die. We have to act fast.»
I hugged her, overwhelmed. She was right. We sold the flat that daygot a decent price. The buyer paid a deposit, and we covered the medicine.
Two days later, it arrived. The medicine worked. Charlotte saved Georges life. A month later, he was fully recovered. Our joy was endless.
Once he was better, we transferred the flat to Charlottes name. The leftover money went into savings.
We lived happily until that late-night call.
Emily, dumped by Richard, wanted to come home.
I told her no.
«We only have one daughterCharlotte.»
A few years later, Charlotte married James, a farmer with a sprawling countryside home. His business thrivedhe even planned to open a canned goods factory.
She invited us to move in, but we preferred visiting a few times a week. Our room was always ready. George and James bonded over fishing. Charlotte designed the factory plans. We were one big, happy familyjust not always under one roof.
The only time we thought of Emily was on her wedding daythe same day George and I went to that spa in Brighton, just like years before. Charlotte booked our trips, sometimes joined us.
Every year on that day, I wondered how Id raised a daughter who valued a fancy car over our lives. And Charlotteorphaned so youngput us above everything, willing to give all she had for our happiness.
