Their mother sent them to the orphanage right after New Years Day The girls cried. They had been home-raised children. While their mother was busy sorting out her love lifesomething she did constantlythe sisters, Emily and Lucy, had lived with their grandmother. But when their grandmother passed away on Boxing Day, their mother gave them up. No, she wasnt recklessshe didnt drink or even smoke. Still, wasnt it unfair? Her ex-husband lived as he pleased, while she was left to raise two children alone?
Their mother unbuttoned Lucys little coat, muttering, «Stop crying, its just how things turned out. Blame me if you want, but youll be fine hereyoull thank me later!» Lucy, only three, was choking on her tears, too young to understand. But seeing the anger in her mothers eyes and the fear on her older sister Emilys tear-streaked face, she knew something was wrong. Their mother hissed, «Dont embarrass me. Im not abandoning youIll come back once Ive sorted myself out. Ill fetch you at Easter, I promise!» The girls sniffled but quieted down. After all, their mother had said shed return.
Adjusting to the childrens home was hard, though the caretakers adored them for their quiet manners, quick minds, and touching devotion to each other. Emily won hearts with her serious dark eyes, while little Lucy was like a rosy-cheeked cherub. Lucy tugged at Emilys sleeve. «Whens Easter? Is it coming soon? Will Mummy take us home then?» Emily patiently explained, again, «Easters a holiday in springremember how Gran used to paint eggs?» Lucy nodded solemnly, but then, remembering Gran, tiny tears welled up.
Emily wished she knew when Easter was, too. She asked a caretaker, Mrs. Collins, who was surprisedmost children counted down to Christmas or birthdays. Still, she gave Emily a small calendar. «See this circled date? Thats Easter. Every number is a day. When I was in school, Id cross them off till summer holidays.» Emily started doing the same, watching the line of numbers shrink as Easter neared.
On Easter morning, Lucy ran to Emily, clutching a red-painted egg. «Em! Em! Mummys coming today! Im so happyarent you?» Emily could hardly wait either. At first, the anticipation was joyful, but by naptime, she wanted to cry. Lucys constant whining didnt help. By evening, when it was clear their mother wasnt coming, Emily soothed her sister. «The bus mustve got stuckthe roads are awful! Honest, I heard the caretakers say so. Dont cry, Luce, theyll dig it out, and Mummy will come tomorrow. Shell stay in the village tonight!» Lucy nodded, swallowing tears.
But their mother never came, though the girls waited daily, inventing new excuses. One morning, Emily couldnt find Lucy. The caretakers explained their mother had taken her. Years later, Emily learned shed been formally disowned. But luck found hertwo years on, her fathers sister, Aunt Margaret, tracked her down. A kind woman, Aunt Margaret became «Mum» before Emily even noticed. Slowly, their love mended the scars in Emilys heart. She tried not to think of her mother or Lucythough she knew Lucy had been too young to understand. Still without her, Emily would never have left
Years passed. Emily trained as a nurse, married, had a sonthey werent rich, but they were happy. Then, a letter arrived. From Lucy.
«Dearest sister, you probably dont remember me? I only recall your plaits and your checked slippers. I long to see you! Weve moved back to the arealiving in Millfield. If you dont mind, may I visit?» Emily frowned. Oddinviting herself over. Still, she agreed.
Lucy, in a blue jacket, limped toward her, waving eagerly. Spotting Emily in the station crowd, she hugged her tightly, weeping. «Sister, I knew it was you straightaway! Believe me?» Emily grumbledstill a crybabybut her own eyes stung.
After supper, Lucy explained. «Dont blame Mum. Uncle Stephenher new husbandsaid hed take us all. But she was scared to bring two at once. Then they had a son, then a daughter! Little Sophies a dollwhered we fit? Oh, dont be cross! Uncle Stephens a brilliant carpenteralways swamped with work. We even holiday by the seaside sometimes. Then, in Year 7, a bull gored methank God no one else was hurt. But now I limp Your pies lovely, Emmay I have the recipe?»
Emily asked, «Do you work? Study? Have friends? Youre so pretty!»
Lucy flushed. «I was in hospital agescost a fortune. I help at home or in Uncle Stephens workshop Mums an accountant at the council. Friends? Never really the limp But Im used to it.»
Emily insisted Lucy stay the night, promising to see her off in the morning. Lucy fell asleep instantly. Glancing at her neatly folded clothes, Emily noticedeverything was clean but threadbare, mended endlessly. Hospital orderlies wouldnt wear this, let alone for visiting!
At 3 a.m., Emily woke her husband, demanding a drive to Millfield. Grumbling, he obliged. En route, she explained. He scowled at first, then nodded.
Emily found her mothers house easily. Her heart raced as she knocked. Her mother opened the doorunrecognising. Emily knew her at once, though age had touched her. «Morning, Mum. Here we are.» Her mother greeted her coldly, as if she were a bothersome neighbour, not a daughter unseen for years. «Wheres Lucy? In the barn? Fetch herthe kids need breakfast, and the place is a mess. Come in, since youre here.»
Emily kept calm. «Lucys staying with me. Pack her things and money, if you can. Ill get her a job as a care assistantshe can train later. Her leg needs treatmentshes too lovely to limp! Hear me, Mum?»
Her mother jutted her chinher old defiance. «Get lost, do-gooder! Well fetch Lucy ourselves. Stay away!»
Emily shook her head, locking eyes. «First, its *Lulu*. Call your cow Lucyyoull be milking her now, *madam*. Want me to gather the whole village? Theyll learn how the upstanding council accountant dumped her kids in care! The local gossips wont forget, even if you move. Try taking Lulu backIll shout it nationwide!»
Her mother sneered, slammed the door. Half an hour later, a stooped man emerged with a backpack. «Im Stephen. Heres Lulus things. Give her my lovewell send money. Shes been Cinderella long enough. Dont blame your mum too much lifes not simple.»
Walking back, Emily thoughtno, life isnt simple. But is *simple* so hard? For men not to drink or stray, for women not to abandon children for romance, for siblings not to forget each other?
Just to be human thats all.
