Shell have to sleep in the loft, my wife had said about the child. You have a daughter. Shes seven.
Andrew almost dropped his phone when he heard Rachels voice after eight years of silence.
Rachel? Is that you?
Yes. We need to meet. Its urgent.
What what daughter? What are you talking about?
Come to the café on Oxford Street in an hour. Ill explain everything.
The ringtone pierced the office, and Andrew stood frozen as if struck by lightning. A daughter? From Rachel? They had split up eight years earlier!
He called home, telling Helen hed be late at work. Helen, as usual, muttered something dissatisfied about dinner. Thomas was probably glued to his computer again, fifteen and barely interested in anything but video games.
At the café, Rachel sat by the window, gaunt, dark circles under her eyes, a scarf wrapped around her head.
Hello, Andrew, she said.
Hello. What what happened to you?
Cancer. Stage four. I have two, maybe three months left.
Andrew sat opposite her, a lump forming in his throat.
God, Rachel
Dont feel sorry for me. I didnt call you because of that. I have a daughter. Emily. Your daughter.
My how could she be mine? We were careful!
It doesnt always work out. I found out I was pregnant a month after we broke up. You had already gone back to your wife.
Why didnt you tell me?
Whats the point? You chose a family. Your son. I didnt want to ruin anything.
Andrew fell silent, recalling that year. He remembered how exhausted he had been with Helens endless complaints, money demands, and need for new things. He remembered meeting Rachellighthearted, carefree, asking for nothing but love.
Three months of happiness. Then Helen came to the door, demanding he choose: return to her or never see his son again. Thomas was seven then, crying, begging his father to come back.
He returned. He never saw Rachel again. He didnt even say a proper goodbye; a text was enough to end it.
Show me a photo, he said.
Rachel pulled out her phone. On the screen was a little girl with light hair and grey eyesAndrews eyes.
God she looks just like me as a child.
Yes. And shes stubborn, just like you.
Where is she now?
At home, with a neighbour. Andrew, Im dying. I have no relatives. If you dont acknowledge paternity, Emily will be sent to a childrens home.
Of course Ill acknowledge her! Which childrens home? Shes my child!
And my wife? My son?
Ill sort it out.
Think carefully, Andrew. This isnt a game. A child will lose her mother, be traumatised, frightened. Your family may not accept her.
Its my daughter. End of story.
Rachel wept, quietly, without a sound.
Thank you. I was terrified youd refuse.
When can I see Emily?
Now, if you wish, but you should prepare and warn your family.
That evening Andrew called a family meeting. Helen sat with a stonecold face. Thomas stared at his phone.
I have a daughter, from another woman. Shes seven.
Silence fell. Then an explosion of anger.
What? You cheated on me?
Eight years ago, when we were on the brink of divorce.
We werent on the brink! You ran off to a prostitute!
Helen, calm down. Rachel is dying. The child will have no one.
And what? Thats our problem?
Its my daughter!
A fake daughter! Ill never let her into this house!
Thomas finally looked up.
Dad, why does she matter to us?
Shes your sister.
Shes not my sister! Shes a stranger!
Andrew watched his wife and son, strangers now. When had they become so?
Ill take Emily, with or without your consent.
Then chooseus or her!
Helen, are you serious?
Absolutely. Either the family stays or the bastard stays.
Dont call a child that!
As I please! In my house!
This is my house too.
It wont last long.
A week later Rachel was placed in a hospice. Andrew drove to collect Emily.
The little girl stood in the hallway with a tiny suitcase, thin and pale, eyes wide.
Good afternoon. Are you my father?
Yes, sweetheart. Im your dad.
Mum said youd pick me up.
Ill. Youll live with me now.
And mum? Is she getting better?
Andrew sat beside her, shoulders slumped.
Emily, mum is very ill. She might not recover.
Will she die?
Possibly.
Emily nodded without a tear, as if she already understood.
Ive packed a few things. Mum said youll buy new ones.
Ill buy anything you want.
At home Helen met them in the hallway.
Is this your offspring?
Helen, for the childs sake!
Whats the point? Let her know her place straight away. Shell sleep in the loft.
In the loft? Have you lost your mind?
Where else? There are no spare rooms.
In the guest room.
This is my office!
Now its a nursery.
Emily pressed herself against the wall, eyes full of terror.
Dad, maybe I should go to a childrens home?
No childrens homes! Youre my child, youll stay here.
Youll see, Helen hissed.
The first week was hell. Helen ignored Emily. Thomas teased her, calling her the loiterer. Emily ate alone after everyone else. She slept on a folding cot in the guest roomHelen refused to buy a proper bed.
Why bother? She might never fit in.
Andrew tried to protect his daughter, but work swallowed whole days. At home, it felt like a battlefield.
Rachel died a month later. Andrew took Emily to the funeral. She stood by the grave, lips bitten, not weeping.
Daddy, is mum in heaven?
Yes, love.
Does she see me?
Of course.
Then Ill be good, so she wont be sad.
Life at home grew worse. Helen openly tormented Emily, withholding food when Andrew was absent, forcing her to clean the whole house. Thomas joined in, hiding her things and ruining her notebooks.
Andrew pleaded, Helen, stop! Shes a child!
Anothers child! She knows her place!
This is my child!
Thomas, its your brothers mistake!
Three months later, a turning point arrived. Andrew came home early from work to hear shouting.
He rushed upstairs. In the bedroom, Thomas was beating Emily with a belt.
Youll learn not to touch my things!
I didnt touch anything! Emily sobbed.
Youre lying, you little whore!
Andrew burst in, snatched the belt, shoved Thomas away.
What are you doing, you brute?
She took my tablet!
I didnt take it! Emily curled into a corner, bruises blooming across her skin.
Even if she did, what right have you to beat her?
Mum said discipline is needed!
Mum said?
Andrew went downstairs; Helen was at the kitchen, sipping tea.
Did you let Thomas beat Emily?
Discipline, not yours to take.
Shes a child! Seven years old!
So what? Let her get used to it.
Enough. Im leaving, and Im taking Emily.
Please, just rememberThomas will stay with me.
Fine, let him stay. I dont need a son whos become a sadist.
He packed his things in an hour. Emily shivered on the bed.
Dad, because of me?
No, love. Because of them. Lets go.
And my brother?
Hes not your brother. He wont act like one.
They rented a twobedroom flat on the outskirts. For the first time Emily smiled when she saw her own room.
Its really mine?
Yes. Well set it up however you like.
Can I have pink wallpaper?
Even gold, if you wish.
Divorce was bitter. Helen demanded everything. They split the flat, sold the car, and Andrew paid a quarter of his wages as child support for Thomas.
He never regretted it. He watched Emily blossom, shed her fear, learn to laugh.
At school she was shy at first, but a kind teacher helped her adjust.
Dad, Ive made a friend!
Really? Whats her name?
Molly. She invited me to her birthday.
Great! Well get her a present.
A year later Thomas called.
Dad, can we meet?
Why?
I need to talk.
They met in a park. Thomas had grown, his eyes still held a melancholy.
Dad, forgive me.
For what?
For Emily. I was wrong.
I know.
Mum kept saying she was a stranger, that you left us because of her.
I never abandoned you. I left the violence.
I know now. Mum found a new man. He also raises me, with a strap.
What now?
I understand how Emily felt. Can I see her?
Ill ask her.
Emily hesitated, frightened, but Andrew persuaded her, saying perhaps her brother had changed.
They met in a café. Thomas brought a huge plush bear.
Emily, Im sorry. I was a fool.
Its fine. Everyone makes mistakes.
Are you really my sister?
Yes. By blood.
Can we meet sometimes?
Emily looked at her father, who nodded.
Sure, if you never hit me again.
I promise, never.
They began to see each other, at first rarely, then more often. Thomas grew attached to his sister, defended her at school, helped with homework.
When he turned eighteen, he moved in with his father.
Mum, Im going.
To the traitor?
To dad. And my sister.
She isnt my sister!
She is. My real sister. And you youre just a cruel person.
Helen was left alone. Her new husband left her for a younger woman. Thomas stopped calling. Andrew stopped paying child supportThomas was an adult.
In the modest twobedroom flat, life was tight but happy. Emily excelled at school. Thomas went to university and earned a living.
One evening they all sat together in the kitchen, sipping tea, laughing.
Dad, Emily said, thank you for taking me in.
No, thank you, Andrew replied.
For what?
For being here. For showing me what truly matters.
Whats that?
Love. Not wealth, not status. Love.
Thomas nodded.
Dads right. I learned it when Mum chose another man over me.
Shes just unhappy, Emily said.
Why protect her after everything?
Because anger destroys the one who harbours it. Mum taught me that. Shes a real mother.
Andrew hugged his daughter.
You had a wise mother.
She was, but now I have a dad and a brother. Thats family too.
A real family, Thomas added.
And that was the truth. Blood does not always make a family; sometimes its the choice to stay together, despite everything.
