Your Own Place

Finding My Place

12th October

Mum, what are you doing?! I could barely stop myself from crying as I stared at her tipping the contents of my wardrobe onto the floor, arms full of what little I owned. My favourite red polka dot dress landed in a heap, instantly catching my little brothers eye as he sat on the floor. William grabbed the belt and began chewing on it.

Dont, Will! Give it back!

Mourning a rag, are we? Mum flung my jeans onto the pile and slammed the wardrobe shut. Get out!

I stood frozen. Go where, Mum? Where am I supposed to go? Its late… what are you doing?

Ill do what I like! Its my house! Theres no place for you here!

And me? Isnt this my house too?

No, darling, its not. Nothing here belongs to you. Mum wiped Wills nose with the edge of my dress before picking him up. Nothing at all! And stop getting on my nerves! I was finally sorting out my life and you just want to come and ruin it all, dont you? Not anymore!

Mum, what have I ruined? What?!

Flirting around your stepdad, arent you? Not me, thats for sure.

Mum! I screamed so loudly William jumped, frightened, and burst into tears. Can you hear yourself?!

Loud and clear! Enough! Ive said what Ive said! I want you gone in five minutes!

She kicked the door open and strode out, and I just stood there, feeling like someone had pulled the rug out from under me. I think… yes, Id just been thrown out of my own home. My thoughts whirled about uselessly, I couldnt grab onto a single one to tell me what to do next. Williams wailing pierced through the haze, and I instinctively reached for the door. It had always been my job to pick him up, to calm him, distract himanything to stop the crying. Mums new husband, Steve, loathed the sound of a babys tears, or, frankly, anything to do with children at all. It was so different from how Id been brought upsurrounded by warmth, affection, real family… Now Mum would hardly bother to comfort her own child, usually dumping Will into my arms as she disappeared.

Sort it out! Youre old enough nowhelp for once!

Old enough… just yesterday, I was the spoilt one, Mum and Dads only darling. And now, overnight, Id become the outsiderMums cut-off branch, as she called me. These past two years, everything had changed so quickly I couldnt keep up.

First, Dad diedheart attack at a bus stop, not yet fifty. So unfair; anyone could have helped him, but not a single person bothered. Well dressed, not looking any kind of vagrant, he lay there for more than an hour as people hurried by, wrapped up in their own worlds. No one stopped, no one called an ambulance; no one even asked if he was okay. When a woman finally checked him, it was too late.

Mum reacted as if shed frozen in timequiet, detached, impossible to reach. I cried and cried trying to get through to her, but nothing worked. No tears for Dad, just that coldness, and afterwards, she locked herself away and basically forgot she had a daughter at all.

We have no real family hereMum fell out with her relatives long ago and friends faded into acquaintances who only appeared for the rare birthday or Christmas. My parents always took pride in their tiny, tight-knit family, insisting that all you needed was each otherI used to believe that too, resenting any visitors who intruded, never seeing the need for anyone else.

That belief lasted until I started at Westfield Primary. There were more girls than boys in my class, and they sat me with a wiry, sharp-eyed girl called Daisywith such thick, black plaits she had to hold her chin high just to bear the weight. I envied her hair so much! My own was a tangle of pale, silly curls Mum could never tame, earning me the nickname of Dandelion from day one.

I only dared stroke Daisys braid after two days, when she huffed, Im sick of these! Ill cut them off even if Mum shouts at me.

Without thinking, I whispered, Are you mad? Theyre gorgeous!

From then, our friendship was fixed. In class, everyone called her Dais, enchanted, as I was, by those magical plaits.

Daisy was the fourth daughter in the sprawling Smith family. The first time I visited their rambling council house in a cul-de-sac on the edge of town, I was barely able to see or hear straight for the sheer amount of peopleadults, kids, oldies and babies packed into every inch. I gave up trying to figure out who was who. All I needed to know was that Daisys mum would sit you down at their giant kitchen table and feed you so well you could only roll away after. Her siblings, no matter their age gaps, always pitched in. Her older brother patiently explained our maths homework and her big sister taught me to bake. Even the youngest girls could whip up a perfect pie, while Mum insisted I was too young to do anything but set the table.

At Daisys, I learned that family and friends werent so terrible after all. Later, of course, I would find out how even the closest people can become strangers, but that was years away. For now, I marvelled at the mountain of gifts Daisy received at every occasioneven her distant great-aunts birthday meant treats, new jumpers, ribbons, sweets.

But why? It isnt your birthday today! I marvelled as she twirled in front of the mirror.

So what? Why wait to make someone you love happy? Daisy would ring out with laughter, and Id burst out giggling with her.

Mum disapproved of our friendship. She didnt like Daisy, and if shed ever seen the Smith household, shed have forbidden me from visiting for good. But she was too busy with work. I only had to nip home after school for a quick soupotherwise, Mum would know Id not had lunchbefore dashing off to Daisys, where someone would coo over me, ply me with homemade cake and lemon curd, then explain how theyd made it. I craved those afternoons. It was easy there, comfortable. I felt wanted.

It was Daisys family who took charge when Dad died. That evening, her older brothers came over with cash and practical offers of help, even sorting the funeral when Mum couldnt bring herself to leave her room. When she did, she just muttered and followed orders, shooting daggers at the boys who paid her no mind, shuttling Mum and me about until all was sorted. Daisy tried to console me until both of us cried into her cake mixtureshe baked so much the neighbours had to help store the pies.

For days, one of Daisys brothers accompanied me and Mum everywhere, quietly solving dozens of little problems, steadying us. Mum never noticed; I did, and Ill never forget.

When I asked Daisy later, she replied simply, Well, youre not a stranger to us, and theres no men left at your house. Someone had to step in.

But six months later, Daisy was married off. I nearly lost the power of speech, then scolded her, Are you out of your mind? What about med school? You always wanted to be a doctor!

I still do, Daisy said, laying her wedding veil back in a crisp white box. Dads sorted everything with my fiancé.

I dont get it! Why marry so young? Do you love him massively?

She looked back at me, baffled. Ive only met him twice. Love? Not really. Interest, maybe. The rest comes later.

I was stunned. How can you settle for that?

Its whats done here. Parents decide; we honour it. They want the best for metheyll choose my husband carefully, I know it.

I had no argument. At Daisys wedding, I nearly sobbed my way out but held back. When I heard she was moving to Manchester, where her in-laws bought a flat, I did cry, badly.

How will I go on without you?

And me, Em? But youll manage! If things get awful, you must cometheres always a way.

By then, Mum was with Steve, and Daisy watched me delaying my walk home from college.

Whats wrong? Why dont you want to go home?

I couldnt explain about Steve lurking in the hall or kitchen, or the way Mum glowered at me after Will was bornhow she left me with my baby brother at all hours, not bothering if I had classes the next morning. I loved William and wanted to help, but endless sleepless nights pacing with him left me collapsing from exhaustion at college on two separate occasions. Ugly rumours started.

I started work as a hospital health care assistant before my course even finished, partially for the night shifts, so I didnt have to go home often.

After Daisy left, things with Mum grew more explosive. The tension built until it burstwith that row tonight. Now I was desperately cramming my things into a bag, wondering: if Im not welcome here, then where do I belong? Where should I go? No answers cameDaisy was busy expecting her first child at university. She couldnt be troubled. Truly, she could do it alldegree, family… and me? I couldnt even explain myself to my own mother.

I looked around my room one last time, snatched my favourite photograph of Dad off the desk and shoved it into my bag, wiping my tears. Maybe this is for the best, I thought. Ive felt out of place here for ages; Mum can go have her life.

In the kitchen, the TV blared as Mum clattered pans, angrily. I headed for the hallway but stopped. What could I say? Was there anything left? After what Id heard, how could I forgive? Enough! We used to have a good life, but now, I didnt belong.

It was full dark outside. I huddled into the scarf Daisy gave me last Christmasher last in England before moving away. Autumn had swept into town so suddenly, swapping summer for chill in a blink, and I was glad Id already got out my proper coat; no need to go back on Mums account. My hurt gnawed at me like a wild dog, but right then, I just needed to figure things out.

The bus stop was nearly emptyjust a straggling older couple and a huge, wayward mongrel dozing nearby. I dumped my bag on the bench and thrust my cold hands in my pockets.

When a car stopped beside me, I instinctively flinched. Even with people about, I didnt feel safe anymore.

Em? the window rolled down.

Alex!

Relief washed over me. Alex was Daisys oldest brotherthe very one who used to help with algebra and handled all the funeral arrangements.

What are you doing here? On your way to work?

No… erm, well, yes. To the hospital. I need to be there.

He eyed me, full of concern. Are you sure? Why are you out with your things?

And somehow I spilled it all outMum, Steve, the row, the fact that I felt homeless.

I see. Get in then! Alex was always a man of few words. Assuming hed just give me a lift to the hospital, I hesitated then climbed in.

We drove in silence through the London night. The car heater was comforting; I wanted to stay cocooned there forever. My thoughts kept going round and round those awful words: Theres no place for you here!

Suddenly, I realised hed taken a different route. Alex? The hospitals the other way!

You were planning to sleep there?

I suppose.

And then? You could kip there one nightwhat about later?

I dont know…

Well, I do. Were not going to the hospital, but somewhere else.

Where?

Youll see.

We stopped outside a grand block of flats in a quiet street, behind ornate iron gates. The security guard waved us through. Alex parked and jerked his head towards the entrance.

Come on, this way.

I had no idea what was going on as we climbed up to the third floor. Alex rang a bell. We waited, awkwardly shifting side to side, until the door finally swung open.

An enormous woman filled the doorway.

Alex! Why didnt you phone ahead, love?

She didnt seem quite so huge as Id first thoughtjust tall and solid with a flowing dress. Then she blinked and broke into a smile.

And this must be Emily! Daisys friend. I remember you from the wedding! Come in, love, dont mind me! Youre not a stranger here, dont make me sad!

Shyly, I stepped into the flat, instantly wrapped in the soothing heat and comforting smell of cinnamon and coffee. Marble floors, a vast chandelier overhead, cut glass glittering. Alex whispered something to the grandmother, got a firm nod and slipped away with a quick wave.

Whereve you gone, love? She shut the door behind him and turned to me. Why are you standing there? Off with your coat and come through! Well have a cuppa, quick bite, and you can tell me why such a lovely girl is wandering the streets this time of night. Dont you have a home? A mum?

I dont think so, not anymore… The truth hit me and I just broke down, right there, crying so hard the old woman paused for a second, then sat beside me and drew me into her arms.

There, sweetheart! Oh, where were the angels looking, to let you end up here? Cry it all out! It will turn out fine, you wait and see. Take it from me, I know!

She patted my hair, smoothing and calming, before leading me to her kitchen, where she brewed strong, bitter coffee in a tiny cup. I sipped it, choking a bit, wondering why tears didnt taste nearly as harsh.

Call me Rose, she said. Thats what they called me, long ago, back when I was just a girl, looking after younger sisters and a brother. My home was far, far from heremy place. Where my family grew up. I havent gone back, probably never will. Thats my secret pain, but not the worst one.

Whats worse? I asked before I could stop myself.

Oh, love, lets just sayimagine if you couldnt even visit your parents graves. Lost people, lost places, lost everything… Terrible things people do to each other. They came, outsiders, and told us ‘no more, you dont belong.’ That where we spoke our language, wed be punished. I heard those words hiding in a cupboard Dad had built just in timea secret exit to the yard. When the trouble came, dad moved the big dresser, blocked the door. I still remember itoak and so heavy, you needed six men to budge it, but in a moment he was strong enough for us all. Thats love, dear! Remember that, one day, if you ever have children of your own. Hurt twists people; it hollows them out. But sometimes, you get to fill that emptiness with someone elsesomeone who needs you.

She paused, looking at the table.

So your strength wasnt your own? I prompted.

She smiled sadly. No. The strength was borrowed: from the children clinging to me, the aunts and cousins who took us in. All the people who stepped up. Thats what gets you through. And now, Ill lend you my strength. You need it. This is your place now, and, when the time comes, Ill see you safely to your next home. Dont you dare cry again! Youve no idea what I have in store for you! Ill teach you everythingjust like I trained up Daisy and my lot. Youll make me proud.

She cackled at my expression. Its right to be scared! Lots to learn!

Rose kept her word. Two years on, I could cook so well I put even Daisy to shame whenever she came home to visit.

Yours are tastier! What dyou put in the pie? Daisy would laugh, polishing off another, examining me. How are you?

Good! I owe it all to Gran Rose. If not for her…

Oh, dont flatter me, child, or Ill end up too vain for Heaven! Rose cackled, keeping an eye on her saucepan.

Lies? I challenged, copying her very tone.

Daisy broke into giggles. Look at you, Rose! You raised her well! Shes so like you!

Not yet, Rose said, suddenly sombre, glancing at me. Daisy caught the mood.

What? Whats up?

Rose poured the tea and slipped from the kitchen, leaving us alone.

Daisy watched me. I didnt want to talk about the heaviness in my heart lately, but in the end, I nodded.

Mums ill.

Daisys eyes widened. How bad?

Very. Its only a matter of time. She was in my hospitalI know everything.

You havent seen her? Daisy jumped up.

No… I cant bring myself

Em! You have to. What if its too late one day? Regret is worse. And shell be gone. Therell be no one left to forgive.

Dont shout, Dais. I know. I do. But… I keep thinking about how she threw me out, how I ended up here. If it hadnt been for Alex, then Rose… Where would I be? Did Mum ever care about me? Steve left her as soon as she got sickleft her and William both.

Daisy sat back, stunned. Sowheres Will now?

In foster care. They wouldnt let me take himnot enough money for a flat, never mind with my odd jobs.

Couldnt you go back to your mothers flat?

She struck me off the tenancy. To adopt Will, you have to have proof of addressand I dont. Ive not slept, worrying about him, all alone in that place.

Well, if you cared so much, you wouldnt be here, Daisy snapped. Lets go!

Where?

The hospital!

Why?

Wheres your mother staying?

Shes notshe was discharged.

Then home. Shell be there.

Im not making peace with her!

And you dont have to! Shes the one who needs to. Stop thinking of yourself. What about Will? Was it nice for you when no one cared about you? Didnt think so.

I finally made my peace with Mum, two days before she died. Ravaged by illness, barely recognisable, she quietly asked my forgiveness. Those two months, I had cared for her, run about sorting out paperwork, pushing my hurt aside, only focused on getting Will home swiftly. When I looked in her tired eyesfull of pain, nothing to do with the diseaseI didnt remember the day she cast me out, but much further back. A summer day when I was five or six, Mum in a cheerful red dress, feeding me cherries in the garden. They tasted golden and sweetlike happiness itself. That was all that remained. I found myself saying the words from somewhere deep within:

I forgive you, Mum.

And, finally, Granny Roses lesson made sensedont let resentment poison you, dont let it burn away every light thing in life. Thats harder than it sounds, but its for your sake, not theirs.

A week later, I brought Will home, his tiny hand clutching mine as we looked up at our new little flat, the two of us together.

Is this home for good now? he asked, eyes wide.

Yes, Will. Were home now. This is our place, do you understand?

He nodded more seriously than anyone his age should, and I knew, with absolute certainty, that finally, everything was as it should be.