I watched Emily Turner shuffle into the community health centre, each step a battle after shed twisted her ankle badly in a slip at the market. She hobbled in so badly that a bald chap in a tweed jacket breezed past her, cutting straight to the front of the queue and disappearing into the doctors office before she could even catch her breath. Exhausted, Emily sank onto the plastic chair and muttered, Men never give way, do they?
A woman standing nearby laughed and replied, Hes been here all morning, trying to sort out a prosthetic for his leg. Thats Andrew Clarke, my neighbour. Lucks not been kind to him he lost his leg, his wife walked out, and hes still hopping around like a onelegged rabbit. No kids, no family.
Just then a slightly limp man waddled out of the consultation room with a grin plastered on his face. He gave Emily and the woman a cheeky wink and said, Well then, ladies, lets keep on living! He gave a light tap on his own foot and headed for the exit.
Emily let out a soft laugh at being called ladies. It wasnt about her any more. Shed married young, her husband Paul Whitaker being twelve years her senior. Both were Cancer signs, and Paul, a dog lover, bought them a Labrador named Rex shortly after they moved into a modest terraced house with a small garden. Not long after, Emily discovered she was pregnant.
Friends gushed, What a perfect little family a flat, a car, a cottage up north, a dog, and a baby on the way. But at six months Emily suffered a miscarriage, and the little boy theyd hoped for never arrived. Paul tried to console her, then said, Were not twentysomethings any more, but we still have Rex. He cant replace a child, though.
At a dog show Paul ran into Olivia Hart, who also showed a prizewinning Labrador. He soon told Emily, Olivias expecting a child. Shes young, shell have a healthy baby. Youve got to admit shes spry, unlike you, looking a bit older now. Olivia was indeed nearly twenty years younger than Paul, and the comparison hit Emily hard. Retirements just around the corner, Paul would say, as if it applied to her too.
One evening Emily thought, Im only fortythree, not that old, yet I feel like an old soul.
A week later, with the sprain almost gone, Emily returned to the clinic and ran into the same bald man again. He bowed his head apologetically and said, Sorry, miss, please go ahead of me; Ill wait my turn. The nurse shouted, Next! and the man lingered by the doorway. Youre invited in, he said, smiling. Im Andrew, and you are Emily? I figured that out the moment I saw your bright eyes. May I walk you out? Im a bit of a lonely cripple, you see.
Emily chuckled, If Im a pretty girl, you dont look much like a cripple yourself.
They stepped out together, Andrew chatting away, then offering his arm as she still favored her injured foot. Fancy a cuppa? he suggested, pointing to a tiny café down the lane. Cheap and tasty, my treat I havent even had breakfast yet. Their conversation flowed easily, and Andrew soon asked to see her again.
One afternoon, as they sat with tea and scones, Andrew confessed, Emily, Im not in a rush, but Im scared someone will overtake me on the road and Ill end up flat on my nose again. Im lame, bald, and youre a beautiful, young woman. Dont think we barely know each other I want to spend the rest of my life learning about you. I have a flat, a steady job, Im a sturdy bloke. He fell silent, eyes searching hers, then lowered his head, as if expecting a rejection. I know everyone wants a healthy, wealthy partner these days, not a cripple.
Emily burst out laughing, Youre a character, Andrew. It felt awkward to say yes straight away, but Im in.
Soon after they were married, Emily discovered she was pregnant almost immediately. She never imagined shed carry a child again after the loss; it felt as if time had turned back, granting her youth, beauty, and love once more.
Look at our little Charlie, she cooed, admiring the curlyhaired baby. Hes a proper handful!
Andrew ran a hand over his smooth, bald scalp and said, I may be a bald, legless fellow now, but I once fancied myself a goldenhaired eagle. Our sons got Mums eyes and Dads curls. He laughed heartily.
Emily rested her shoulder against his, tears welling up. Its unreal, Andrew. If we hadnt met, thered be no Charlie, no us. She sobbed, and he, taken aback, whispered, Dont cry, love. Look at our boy he had to be born, Im certain of it. We met for a reason; without you Id have vanished.
She wiped her eyes, hugging him tighter. Im crying from joy, she admitted, a smile breaking through. For the first time in my life Im genuinely happy. A tear glimmered on her lashes like a tiny diamond.
In that moment, she realised the richest treasure was their child, and the true happiness was the love they shared.
