Veronica Still Couldn’t Find Her Own Happiness: Nearly Forty, Successful and Beautiful with a Great Job and High Salary, Yet Still Alone and Waiting for Love

Verity simply could not find her happily ever after. She was creeping up on forty and still, quite inexplicably, utterly single. And it wasnt as though shed drawn the short straw in lifeshe was clever, attractive, with a good job and a salary that would make most people blink twice. But as for that elusive womanly happiness? Nowhere to be seen.

Her parents, Annabelle and Ian Chambers, fretted over their daughter as only English parents cana perfect blend of gentle worry and unsolicited advice. Their help was mainly emotional, as frankly, Verity was better off than them in the money department. They steadfastly refused any financial help from her.

Stay with us, love! Annabelle and Ian would say. The house is much too big for just the two of us. Save your money for when you finally find your happy ending!

Every evening, theyd pity poor Nicky the moment she trudged home from work.

Oh, no one to fuss over you, dear, except your old mum and dad! her mother would sigh.

And what will you do when were not around, eh? added her father, melodramatic as ever. No one left to listen to your troubles! You need to be searching for your own happiness, love!

So, the three of them would settle down in front of the tele, day in and day out, year in and year out, searching for happiness among episodes of *EastEnders*. Riveting stuffit was enough to make anyone yawn.

Particularly odd were her fathers frequent when were gone speeches. After all, Annabelle and Ian had Verity when they were both nineteen, swept up in a grand teenage romance. Talking about their exit from this mortal coil seemed, well, a bit premature.

Back in her uni days, Verity had dated a bloke named Charliean endearing ox of a man possessed of comical clumsiness. Everywhere Charlie went, he managed to bump, topple, or break something. Absolute chaos in human form.

Annabelles nickname for him was Charlie the Chipped China, while Ian loved putting on a limp and acting as if he was forever catching falling toasters.

Hes a walking disaster, love! they nudged gently. You need someone reliable, not someone who shatters everything he touches.

Under such relentless support, even Verity started seeing Charlie in a less forgiving light.

Needless to say, her parents were mistaken. Charlie finished university, started a successful law firm, and married a woman who declared his clumsiness rather charming. Turns out, Charlie just needed a bit of spacewhich is probably why they now lived in a house in the country with plenty of room for his misadventures.

But Annabelle and Ian remained certain: Veritys happiness is out there somewhereshell find it! they reassured themselves and occasionally her.

The Chambers were a lively lot otherwise. Just a couple months back, theyd all been to Thailand together. Now, in the evenings, theyd giggle over the sunburned photos, reminisce about coconut cocktails, and marvel at how many mangoes one could eat in a single sitting.

On that holiday, Verity met a man named Romanexotic, as he was from Belarus. Of course, her parents found this hilarious.

Unexpected romance with a Roman from Belarus, eh? Annabelle chortled in her typical punny fashion.

Ian stuffed a cushion under his shirt to mimic Romans sturdy build and waddled around the hotel room to everyones amusement but Veritys.

Truth be told, Roman wasnt fatjust big. He had fascinating stories about stars, and their evenings wandering along the beach, tracing constellations, made Verity feel like maybe, just maybe, the future could hold something special. Bravely, she gave him her number, ignoring her parents sniggers.

Back in Blighty, when her parents heard she and Roman were still calling each other, Annabelle sniffed, Holiday romances never end well! Its just not what nice English girls do.

Never mind that neither Roman nor Verity had families to complicate matterswhat really mattered to Annabelle was that all this was, in her view, a holiday romance, sure to end in heartbreak.

Look for your happiness here, love! You know you can always lean on us! Ian reassured her, ever the doting dad.

Summer arrived, with its humble English pleasures. The Chambers retreated, as always, to their little riverside cottage. Cream teas under the apple tree, barbecues near the gazebo, vegetables plucked fresh out of the patch, and neighbours popping over for a bit of harmless gossip.

One weekend, the neighbours son Denis arrived with his little boy, Anthony, a freckled five-year-old with sticking-out ears and a mop of blond hair. The story went that Deniss wife had left him for some slick city businessman whod refused to take in a child that looked so much like its father. So Denis was left holding the baby, literally.

Verity was smitten with both of themthere was something heartfelt and tender about father and son, and a flash of chemistry burst between Denis and Verity quicker than you could say Victoria sponge. As for Anthony, he instantly adored Verity.

Annabelle, however, couldnt help but poke fun: Denis ate all the carrots and just left one behind! Dyou reckon his parents invited him round on purpose, hoping youll catch his eye? Why on Earth do you need a bloke with baggage?

Ian added, Cant have been much of a man if his wife up and left him with a tot. Must be a right loser.

For once, Verity wasnt having any of it.

Actually, Dad, maybe thats exactly what makes him a good bloke. Maybe his wife knew Anthony would be safe with himthat he wouldnt spiral out or neglect him.

Nonsense, Verity! Its not your happiness. We want grandkids of our own, not someone elses! We want to hold tiny hands and hear pitter-pattering feet in our own home.

Suddenly, the Chambers stopped talking to the neighbours altogether. Annabelle and Ian found fresh insults for their former friends, and neighbourly evenings evaporated overnight.

Back under the apple tree, Annabelle and Ian would drown their sorrows in endless tea, bemoaning how the universe stubbornly denied Verity her slice of English bliss. Summer faded in sighs and longing.

But Verity found herself loving Denis and Anthony as wholeheartedly as she loved her own parents. She felt guiltyshe wasnt loving the right people, the way Annabelle and Ian dreamed she would. But when cottage season ended, she went back to the city flat with her parents, heart all a-jumble.

Annabelle and Ian, for all their opinions, did love their daughter, and the autumn passed with no mentionjoking or otherwiseof Denis and his little boy.

One drizzly evening, Verity stumbled across a tiny ginger kitten, mewling pathetically under the wheel of a parked car. The poor scrap was as soggy as a tea bag left in the pot. Watching him huddle from the rain, Verity was suddenly reminded of Anthonysmall, lost, and alone. Without a second thought, she scooped the trembling fluffball up and tucked him inside her coat.

Back home, Verity dried him off, poured some milk into a saucer, and squatted down to watch him lap it up with comical urgencyhis pink tongue fluttering like a tiny motor.

Someones famished, she muttered, charmed.

Then, in shuffled Ian with his newspaper, Annabelle trailing behind. But any hopes of shared delight vanishedthey wore looks of sheer panic more suited to discovering a fox in the pantry.

And what are we supposed to do with that?! Annabelle shrieked.

Hell ruin the furniture, claw the wallpaper, muddy up the place! Ian scowled.

Mum, Dad, hes just a baby! Well buy him a scratch post; hell learn to use a litter box. Look how sweet he is! protested Verity, puzzled as to why anyone would begrudge the kittenno one in the family suffered from allergies, and their city flat was big enough to host Premier League matches.

No, no, no! None of that in our house! Annabelle cried, voice rising to a fever pitch.

Youve done your good deed, lovetake him to a rescue centre, thats what theyre for! And if they wont take him, threaten to write about them in the paper! Ian declared, flapping his Telegraph in the air.

Without another word, Verity bundled up the kitten and left, heart pounding and cheeks burning. She was nearly forty and didnt own anything outrightnot a child, not a spouse, not even a home. After all these years, she couldnt even keep a kitten? She didnt just want a place to sleepshe wanted a home of her own, where she could simply be herself, no explanations required.

Marching into the first estate agent she saw, Verity found herself a small flatPets welcome! the listing chirped.

For the first time, Verity felt like the lady of her own manor. She bought the kitten everything he needed. The vet declared her a girl of about two months, and Verity christened her Poppy.

Somehow, her life felt a little brighter. And every time she watched Poppy play, she thought of little Anthony and his father, Denis.

Unexpectedly, the phone rang: Denis! Despite her parents dramatic falling-out with the neighbours, Deniss tone was as breezy as ever.

Hi! Hows things? Anthony wants to tell you something!

Verity grinned, picturing those blue eyes and that sprinkle of freckles.

Nicky, we miss you! Come visit us! Please! Me and Daddy will be waiting! came Anthonys small voice through the receiver.

I will! But Ill need to bring my kitten, if thats all right? she asked.

On the other end, Denis laughed. Bring the whole Kitten Parade if you like! Send your address and well pick you up.

And so, despite all oddsand some rather noisy parentsVerity found her happiness with Denis, Anthony, and Poppy. Soon there would be another addition to the family, brother or sisterwho cared which?

As for Annabelle and Ian, Verity didnt forget them. Her love for them never faltered. She called frequently, just to say she was well, that shed found her happinessmaybe not the one they ordered, but hers all the same.

Perhaps, in time, Annabelle and Ian would come round and stop shouting down the phone, Come home this instant! And maybe, just maybe, theyd find the joy of tiny hands to hold and small footsteps pattering through the house even if it wasnt quite how they pictured it.