Ally had grown up in an orphanage, and for as long as she could remember, there had always been other children like her and the caretakers. Life had never been sweetshe’d learned to stand up for herself and defend the younger ones. Her sense of justice was sharp; she couldnt bear to see the weak bullied. Sometimes she took the blows herself, but she never cried. She knew she suffered for what was right.
Shed been christened Althea, but at the orphanage, they shortened it to Ally. The day she turned eighteen, they sent her out into the worldalone. At least she had a trade: shed trained as a cook and had already been working as an assistant at a café for a few months. They gave her a room in a hostel, but it was barely fit to live in.
Around that time, shed started seeing Victor, three years older than her. He worked at the same café as a delivery driver for a van. Soon enough, they moved in together at his one-bedroom flat, left to him by his grandmother.
«Althea, come live with me,» hed said. «Whats the point of that hostel room? The lock barely works, and the place is falling apart.» She agreed without hesitation.
She liked Victor because he was older, more serious. Once, over a conversation about children, hed said flatly:
«I cant stand kids. Nothing but noise and trouble.»
«Victor,» shed replied, startled, «but if it were yoursyour own flesh and bloodhow could you say that?»
«Drop it. I dont want them, and thats final,» he snapped.
The words stung, but she pushed the hurt aside. Maybe if they married, hed change his mind.
Ally worked hard at the café. She could even cover for the head cook, Valerie, when she called in sickthough everyone knew Valeries «headaches» were just hangovers.
«One more slip-up, and youre out,» the manager, Max, warned, though he knew Valerie was a talented cook, praised by customers.
«Brilliant chef youve got there, Max,» friends would say.
So Valerie clung to her job, enduring the warnings. She knew they only kept her because she cooked well. Shed noticed, too, how Ally workedquick, efficient, pouring heart into every dish. Even Max had started watching her closely.
Once, Ally overheard him talking to the floor manager.
«If Valerie skips work again, shes done. Allys young, but shes got skill. Shes not spoiledshes responsible.» His voice faded as they walked away.
So Max had his eye on her. Still, she pitied Valerie. A good woman, ruined by her own weakness. She kept the secret, even from Victor.
Time passed. Valerie missed a full week. Ally cooked, and not a single customer complained. When Valerie finally returned, she was a wreckshaking hands, dark circles under her eyes.
Max stepped into the kitchen. «Valerie. My office. Now.»
He fired her, then addressed the staff.
«From today, Ally, youre head cook. Youve got potential. Prove me right.»
«Thank you,» she murmured, nerves fluttering. It was a big responsibility.
She was thrilledbetter pay, real independence. She swore to herself shed earn Maxs trust.
That evening, Victor brought home champagne.
«Lets celebrate your promotion. Well done, Ally.»
Theyd been together for years, but hed never mentioned marriage. She wondered sometimes.
«If I got pregnant, maybe hed change his mind.»
She remembered his wordshow he despised children. But lately, hed said nothing of the sort. She told herself it wasnt the right time anyway. She was just finding her feet.
Then she discovered she was pregnant. The doctor confirmed it, put her on the register. She was overjoyed.
«No family of my ownbut this ones mine.» She cradled her still-flat stomach, smiling.
Victor came home that night, saw her glow, and asked, «Whats got you so happy?»
«I saw the doctor today,» she said softly. «Were going to have a baby.»
His face darkened. He stared at the floor. «I dont want it. Either get rid of it, or get out. I told youI cant stand kids.» His voice was calm, cold.
Shed hoped hed change. Instead, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then, cruelly:
«Youve got nobody. Where will you go, pregnant and alone? Think about it. Get rid of it. Well go on like before.»
The next day, after her shift, she packed her things and left for the hostel.
Room thirty-five greeted her with peeling paint, a sagging bed, and the stench of damp. A drunk neighbour shouted obscenities through the wall.
«Welcome home, Ally,» she whispered.
The kitchen was worsefilthy stove, roaches skittering by the bin.
Back in her room, she bolted the flimsy door. The hurt swelled in her chest, but thensuddenlyshe felt free.
«Where will you go?» Victor had sneered.
Well, here. To this shabby room, where shed make a life. She wasnt afraid of work.
She rolled up her sleeves, scrubbed the floors, washed the grime from the windows. By evening, the place was clean.
«Right,» she muttered. «New locks first. Then bedding. Dishes.»
Slowly, life settled. The handyman, old Pete, fixed her door, cracking jokes to lift her spirits.
At the café, a new waiter, Timothy, watched her closely. Everyone knew shed be leaving soonmaternity leave.
One evening, he walked her home. Out of politeness, she invited him for tea.
That night, she sensed his feelingsbut pushed them away. She was having a baby.
Timothy didnt give up.
«Marry me,» he said one day. «Youre alone. Im alone. I love you, Ally. And your babythatll be mine too.»
She hesitated. «But»
He smiled. «I want a family. Lots of kids.»
She thought of Victor. They were nothing alike.
Timothy was warmth. Kindness.
She said yes.
When the baby came, he waited at the hospital, then rushed home to paint the room, set up the crib.
He met her at the door with flowers. When she stepped inside, she barely recognised the place.
Balloons floated by the ceiling.
Everything was perfect.
