13April2025
Today I sit at the kitchen table of the modest terraced house in Leeds and try to make sense of the tangled road that led me here. If anyone had warned Emily that she would become the cause of endless gossip and a rift between father and son, she would have demanded the words be taken back. Emily, though a simple country girl from a small village in Yorkshire, could stand up for herself when needed. Yet fate had other plans, and even in her worst nightmare she never imagined she would have to endure seven circles of hell to find happiness.
Emily had only just moved to the city, still pleading with her mother not to be sent to her Aunt Margaret. At the family meeting it was decided that Emily would be the one to go, simply because there was no one else. Jack, the head of the family, worked the tractor on the farm and now the fields were a neverending rush of work. Her mother kept the dairy running, while the siblings either attended school or were in the nursery.
Packing a tiny suitcase with the bare necessities, Emily set off for Aunt Margarets flata woman she had seen once, at a christening, and never again. Folks said Margaret, with her sharp tongue, never got along with any of her three husbands. She had no children, no heirs, and Emilys parents secretly hoped she would leave the flat to their niece. Thats exactly what happened, but Margaret treated Emily politely yet kept a careful distance, never inviting her into her private world. One wonders why she bothered with Emily at all. The truth was simple: Margaret feared she would die unnoticed, left to rot in a flat until a foul smell forced a neighbour to call the police.
Margaret had been battling an incurable illness for years, knowing she would not live much longer. To her, Emily was a convenient excuse to arrange a timely funeral and wake. Emily sensed her aunts worries and never asked questions. She washed, cooked, cleaned, shoppedeverything required of her. With no friends, the citys bustling streets felt foreign; the only refuge was the balcony. From there she watched young mums stroll with their toddlers, and elderly ladies gather in the hallway to gossip. Her life seemed split in two: the drudgery of endless chores, and the brief, sweet moments when Margaret fell asleep after her painkillers, allowing Emily a quiet cup of tea on the balcony.
Soon she met a charming neighbour, Andrew, who appeared on the balcony at the same hour. At first they merely nodded, pretending not to notice each other, then exchanged polite greetings. Their silent routine grew into a shy, youthful infatuation. Both would rush to the balcony hoping to catch a glimpse of the other. By the time Margaret passed away, Emily and Andrew were already sharing their feelings openly. After the funeral, Emily told her parents she intended to stay in the city to study, though they knew the real reason was love, and chose not to argue.
Emily was certain of her feelings, and Andrews were clear too, so she accepted his proposal without hesitation. Andrew lived alone. His mother had remarried after a divorce and moved to the United States; his father was a doctor stationed in Nigeria, visiting only once a year on holiday. Their wedding was modest yet full of laughter; both felt they would spend the rest of their lives side by side.
Andrew followed his fathers footsteps, trained as a surgeon and now worked as a junior at the city hospital. Wanting to match his ambition, Emily enrolled in a nursing course after a short stint of study. She imagined them rescuing patients together, but dreams seldom stay intact.
Emily, my dad arrives in a week! Get ready, her sister whispered.
What does he like? We need a menu, groceries, a thorough clean
Relax, love. Hes not a king of Nigeria, just a simple bloke.
Even so, Emily fretted. The photos showed a fit, tanned man who could be mistaken for a Spaniard or a Turk, but looks are deceiving. What if he turned out to be a snob or a perfectionist, finding fault in everything? What if Andrew later thought she wasnt good enough and left?
When Igor VasilyevAndrews fatherfinally arrived, he was nothing like the imagined stern patriarch. He greeted his son and daughterinlaw with a warm kiss, apologized for missing the wedding, and brought a mountain of presents. He praised Emilys cooking, saying he hadnt tasted anything better in ages, then left to visit old friends. A month later he returned to Nigeria, leaving the newlyweds on their own.
Sometimes Emily wondered why her motherinlaw seemed intent on swapping Igor for another man. Igor was an excellent cook; his earlymorning pancakes were the sort only a seasoned housewife could master. He often helped Emily with chores and, before leaving, gave Andrew a piece of advice:
Lucky you, youve got a good wife. Look after her, or youll lose your happiness.
Andrew smiled quietly, thinking, *Shell never run off; shes not like his mother.* Even if Emily strayed, she would forgive and pretend nothing happened. Rural life, after all, is simplepeople endure for their children. He assumed this was the hard truth, so when a nurse began flirting with him, he dived into a new romance, ignoring the fact that Emily was suffering severe morning sickness and could barely manage a meal. He would come home full, dine with Kari, drive her home, and feign exhaustion. Emily, lost in her own feelings, barely noticed the shift. She rejoiced at the thought of motherhood yet feared she couldnt cope, though she had a caring husband.
When Emily gave birth, the workload exploded. Milk was scarce, the baby wailed at night, and Andrew grew irritable, demanding Emily soothe the child while he retreated to the lounge. Igors next visit left him stunned; the oncecheerful, rosycheeked Emily looked pallid and gaunt, while Andrew had lost weight, his eyes hollow.
Help your wife a bit, Igor urged.
Dad, shes at home all day, cant she look after the child?
Anyone else in your life?
Why ask?
I see you bright when youre out, and sullen when youre back.
Nothing serious, dad.
Make sure it stays that way.
Emily blamed herself, feeling she no longer resembled a woman. Look at my hair, my face she muttered. Igor, however, understood without words, stepping in whenever he could.
Emily, go rest. Ill watch the grandbaby.
What if she gets hungry?
You think I cant make a formula and feed her? Remember I raised a bit of a loutyour husband.
Thanks to her fatherinlaw, Emily managed a few hours of sleep. Igor fed and rocked the baby while Emily worked, and she prayed nightly for a partner who would bring her lasting joy. She found herself thinking of Igor more and more; he had become a father figure, a brother, a confidant. The thought of him leaving haunted her.
One afternoon Igor handed her a banknote and said, Treat yourselfhaircut, colour, a manicure, maybe some new clothes. Ill look after the girl.
Emily, cheeks flushed, planted a quick kiss on his cheek and rushed to the salon. By evening she returned, radiant and smiling, and considered surprising Andrew with her new look. When she entered the clinic, however, she found a young nurse draped halfopen over Andrews lap, the coat undone in a way that clearly wasnt for a routine checkup. Shock froze her blood; she fled in a taxi, tears spilling all the way home.
What happened, love? she sobbed.
Hes cheating on me I saw it with my own eyes, she whispered.
Igor gathered her in his arms, soothing her with gentle words, promising to speak to Andrew and resolve the matter. You dont have to stay here. Take the child and leave if you must.
Emily had never been held so tightly. The couple had been sleeping in separate rooms for months, but the scent of Igors aftershave, his soft voice, and his tender embrace made her head spin. He, too, felt an unexpected pull toward herher vulnerability, her fragility. In a sudden rush, he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom, where she offered no resistance. Their secret bond grew, hidden from a distracted Andrew who, preoccupied with his own flirtations, failed to notice the shift.
Soon Emily discovered she was pregnant again. The timing was precarious; Andrew would surely suspect infidelity.
Congratulations! At fifty, I never thought Id be a dad again. Will you marry me? Igor asked.
And Andrew?
What Andrew? he shrugged. We both made mistakes, but hell eventually walk away. I love you, and I cant live without you.
After a painful divorce, Emily and Igor married and moved to Nigeria together. Their families could not comprehend the decision; the village folk whispered that she had only pretended modesty. Andrew, bitter, recounted how cruel his wife and father had been. Yet none of that mattered to uswe were happy to have found each other, cherishing every moment we shared.
Looking back, I realise that love can arrive in the most unexpected packagesa stubborn aunt, a weary surgeon, a kindhearted fatherinlaw. The lesson I carry forward is simple: never underestimate the power of compassion and the unforeseen ways people can mend the cracks in our lives.
