A GIFT FROM ASHLEY

A GIFT FROM BELLA

Bella the dog kept howling all night, making Emma Clarke toss and turn. When she peeked into the kennel at sunrise, she froze in horror.

The night had been a tempest, as if Mother Nature had dumped every bit of her fury on the village green. Rain hammered down, trying to wash away every injustice and forgotten sorrow. Lightning ripped the darkness, flashing like a faulty Christmas light, while thunder rumbled so loudly it felt the very ground trembled. The hedgerows swayed as though alive, branches thumped against the garden fence, and water seeped into the lanes, turning them into miniature lakes. It seemed the world had gone into a proper shambles, and nobody could guess what the morning would bring.

But as the first sunbeams slipped through the curtains, the chaos vanished without a trace. No sign of the storm, no hint of the fury that had raged just hours before. The sky cleared to a crisp, blue hue, as if it had just been given a fresh wash, and the air turned clear and fresh, scented with damp earth and newly sprouted grass.

Emma stretched after a restless night, stepped out onto the porch, and inhaled the morning air in one big gulp. It felt as if nature herself had hit the reset button, buzzing with renewed vigor.

A strange memory tugged at her: in the thick of the thunder, her faithful Bella had started whiningnot barking, not growling, but a plaintive howl as if she sensed trouble. Emma had brushed it off at the time, thinking perhaps a stray clap of thunder had startled her. Yet now, looking over the garden, a sudden knot of worry tightened in her chest.

Bella usually met Emma at the porch, tail wagging, ready for a romp. Tonight, she lay slumped inside her kennel, refusing to move. Emmas heart sank. Could the storm have hurt her? she wondered. A bolt that strong could have done a number on her. She stepped closer and softly called, Bella, love, you okay?

From the dark doorway of the kennel, Bellas head emerged, eyes wide and wary. She didnt spring up or dash as she normally did. Instead she lay there, ears pressed back, staring at Emma with a mournful stare, as if guarding some secret.

Whats wrong, my dear? Emma whispered, feeling a chill creep up her spine. She went inside, fetched a knife, and sliced a few juicy strips of sausageBellas favourite treat. Maybe youre just hungry? she thought. But even the scent of meat didnt rouse her. Bella stayed put, as if all her energy had drained or some deepseated maternal instinct kept her glued to the kennels shadows.

Emma frowned. Something was off. Bella never behaved like this, not even during the fiercest gale when shed usually race to her owner for comfort. Now she was the one keeping her distance, shielding her personal space. Is she sick? Bitten by a snake? Something else? Emma muttered, dialing the number of Dr Leonard Hughes, a veteran vet shed known for ages. He promised to be there pronto.

Within twenty minutes a tidy, silverfinished car pulled up the drive. A tall, silverhaired man in spectacles stepped out, a black leather briefcase in hand. Dr Hughes wasnt just a vet; he was a sort of animal whisperer, the sort who seemed to hear a creatures silent cries.

Right, what have we got here? he asked, glancing around.

Emma gave a brief rundown of Bellas odd behaviour. The doctor walked over to the kennel, crouched, and gently coaxed, Bella, darling, come out. Give yourself to Dr Hughes. Bella only let out a low growl, pressed against the wall. Shed never growled at someone she knew, making the scene both odd and a little scary.

Somethings not right, Dr Hughes muttered. She used to run to me like I was family. Whats happened?

Im scared shes ill, Emma said, her voice trembling.

Maybe a tick? A bite? the vet mused. We need to get her out and have a look.

Emma approached the kennel, gently tugged Bellas collar. The dog didnt resist, but she was in no hurry to leap out. When it became clear she wouldnt budge, Bella finally shuffled out, clearly disgruntled, glancing back as she went.

Somethings moving in there! the vet exclaimed, peering into the dark interior.

Emma rushed over and froze.

In the back of the kennel, curled up on an old blanket, lay a small boy. He clutched a grimy rag doll to his chest, his face pale, eyes watery, his clothes torn and sodden. He wore no shoes. He looked as if hed been abandoned, caught between nightmare and reality.

What on earth? Dr Hughes whispered, disbelief in his tone.

Its a child! Emma gasped. I cant pull him out alone youve got to help!

Alright, alright, Dr Hughes said, adjusting his glasses and leaning in carefully. Bella growled again, but Emma soothed her, Its all right, Bella. We wont hurt anyone. Youve done a good thing, youve saved him.

She carried Bella out onto the veranda while the vet lifted the boy into his arms. He awoke, rubbing his eyes, looking bewildered, and began to sob quietly. Emma cradled him; he was as light as a feather, as if hed been starved for proper food for ages. His shirt was filthy, his trousers patched, his legs covered in scrapes.

Who are you, little one? Emma asked gently.

He didnt answer, only stared with huge, frightened eyes, as if waiting for a reprimand.

Ill call the police, Emma said, heading toward the house. A child isnt meant to be left like this.

The vet stopped her. Wait a moment. I know this boy. He smiled faintly. His name is Tommy. Hes the son of Heather

Emmas stomach dropped. Heather that name rang a bell. She was the girl from their secondary school, once the picture of sunshine before she fell into a dark pit of crime, heavy drinking, and reckless living. Shed been given a suspended sentence the first time, then later caught robbing a postman and stealing pensioners money. Shed ended up behind bars, where she gave birth to Tommy. The baby was taken straight to a childrens home.

Did they release her? Emma asked.

Yes, just recently. She took the boy out of the home, but not to love himmore to prove she could be a mother.

Emmas nerves tightened. Shes always halfasleep, neglectful, just throws him around. People like her should lose parental rights. Tommys barely five, can barely speak, knows nothing of a home, family, or cuddle.

Bitter anger swelled inside Emma. She remembered her own dreams of motherhood, the two times shed almost had a baby, only to lose them. Doctors could never explain the sting of those losses, like a punch to the gut each time. Now, there he wasa living, trembling child abandoned as if junk.

Lets keep him with me for now, Emma said firmly. Ill feed him, warm him, bathe him. Then Ill take him to Heather and see what she does with her own son.

She fetched warm water, a soft towel, and baby soap, washing Tommy with such tenderness it felt like she was caring for her own. She dressed him in her oversized Tshirt, wrapped him in a blanket, and set a plate of toast before him. He ate quickly, eyes darting as if fearing the food would be snatched away.

Just then, Andrew, Emmas husband, walked in. Tall, broadshouldered, with kind eyes.

Love, did you want anything? Ive brought some fresh bread he said, stopping short. And whos this?

This is Tommy, Heathers son. I found him in Bellas kennel.

Andrew looked at the boy, then at Emma, understanding the ache that rose every time she saw another child she couldnt have. Got it, he murmured. What do we need?

Buy him shoes and a proper set of clothes. Everything new.

Andrew said nothing more. He turned, left, and returned an hour later with bags of clothing, a pair of sturdy boots, and a bright red toy car with shiny wheels. Tommys face lit up for the first time in days.

Later, as the boy slept, he whispered, I dont want to go back to my mum

Sleep, sweet thing, Emma cooed. No ones taking you anywhere.

Andrew wrapped an arm around Emma. He doesnt want to go back, and I get why.

Ill pay a visit to Heather, find out whats happening.

Heathers house turned out to be a halfruined semidetached in a rundown part of town, windows smashed, the scent of stale beer, tobacco, and hopelessness wafting out. Inside it was dark, filthy, and empty. When Emma stepped in, the smell of smoke made her throat tighten.

Whos there? Is there a little one? a hoarse voice called.

Its Emma, Heather replied, voice shaky. We went to school together.

Ah didnt recognise you. Why are you here?

Your son is with me. I found him in Bellas kennel. He had no shoes, he was starving, terrified.

What then? Let him stay. Wheres he sleeping?

Youre a mother! How can you say that? Heather shouted, eyes flashing. Give me my son back or youll get a belt!

Who are you to tell me how to be a mother? Emma shot back, meeting Heathers gaze squarely. Ill call the police. A child shouldnt grow up in this hell.

Heathers anger melted into desperation. Wait no police Hes all I have my blood

Then sort your house out, get your life together, and maybe we can talk.

A week passed. No one returned. Emma came back to find Heather dead in her bed, a grim look on her face, the result of an overdose. Emma and Andrew arranged for a modest funeral. After that, they decided to adopt Tommy officially.

Months later, after all the checks, interviews, and paperwork, the social services gave their blessing. Tommy became their son.

Two years went by. Spring blossomed again. In the garden, Tommy raced around, clearly older now, laughing and playing with Bellas new litter of puppiesthe very same dog that had saved him on that stormy night.

Careful, love! Emma shouted.

Nothing wrong with a bit of mischief! Andrew chuckled, fixing the tiny cap on their daughter Lucys head, who had been born a year earlier. Lucy beamed, babbling in her own babytalk, watching her brother with delight.

And at that moment, happiness felt whole. They were a familynot just by blood, but by the kindness of their hearts.

What a remarkable tale of compassion, mercy, and love.