Do You Remember, Sally? He’d grown used to peering through their window—after all, they lived on t…

Do you remember, Emily…

Hed grown used to peeking in their window, since they lived right on the ground floor. At first, theyd wanted a flat on a higher level, but soon enough, they got used to it. Grandma was the happiest of all she didnt have to climb stairs. On Saturdays, Mrs. Margaret Miller, Emilys grandmother, used to bake pies, crumpets, or something else delicious, always filling the flat with that lovely, warm smell.

The scent of baking drifted through the open kitchen window, teasing the boys playing football outside. Pete would saunter over to their window, but not the kitchen one hed come around the side of the house, drag over an old wooden crate lost in the tall grass, and standing on it, peek right into Emilys room. She always seemed to know when he would show up, and came running the moment she heard him clambering up.

Ill bring you some pies in a minute, Grandmas just made a fresh batch. Her pink ribbon, holding her fair hair in a ponytail, had slipped loose and fluttered with her movement.

Tastes brilliant, Pete said, munching eagerly, gazing into the room, Did you finish the English homework?

Yep, done, she replied.

Will you let me copy?

Emily gladly passed him her exercise book. Just dont forget to bring it back tomorrow morning before classes. Ill need it.

Pete did alright at school, but like most lads, he was a bit lazy, despite being clever. He was quick with maths, though running round the estate took away precious homework time. In the nineties, mobile phones werent everywhere yet, and kids could play outside till dark, unwilling to head home.

In year eight, Pete had carried Emilys satchel for the first time, swinging it as he told her about a new film. And by year nine, delicate, hazel-eyed Sophie had, by some unwritten agreement among the boys, been crowned as the prettiest girl at school. Pete was smitten. He trailed after her, couldnt take his eyes off her, followed her all the way home. Emily thought it would pass. And now it was she who waited by the window for Pete to knock and say, Emily, let me copy your homework.

Sophie had the knack for keeping people at a distance, but shed tethered Pete firmly to herself. He drifted between Sophie, who sometimes encouraged him and sometimes rejected him, and Emily, who was always there waiting.

He still peeked in at Emilys window, and shed set out a steaming mug of tea on the windowsill, and grabbed some biscuits if there were no pies. Did you hear? Our lads lost the match, hed announce, meaning the local football game. Of course Emily knew, she kept up with everything Pete loved. She watched football, read the sports pages, endured horror films that made her queasy, just to have something to chat to him about if he asked.

Emily was always his mate, ready to listen, help and understand anytime. Pete found comfort in her friendship, always running to her as to a friend who would bail him out, hear him out, and get him. But with Sophie Pete adored her, thought about her endlessly, grew restless, and even complained to Emily when Victor walked Sophie home.

After school, the three of them went off to different universities. Pete no longer showed up to copy Emilys homework, sticking close to Sophie. Occasionally, hed drop by Emilys place out of old habit. Sometimes they went to the cinema, and Pete chatted non-stop along the way, needing to get everything off his chest.

Pete, its my birthday on Saturday. Id love you to come. Will you? she asked, gazing at him with those grey, loving eyes.

He paused to think. Saturday? Yeah, I could. Okay, Ill come. Who elsell be there?

My parents, Grandma, Vera and Adam, Holly you know them all.

Alright, Ill pop in.

On Saturday, Pete never showed. He turned up a week later, upset and downcast.

Pete, whats wrong? You look so sad.

He grumbled that Sophie had gone away for work experience, and hadnt even told him. Emily tried to soothe his misery (though it cost her dearly). I was waiting for you on Saturday, she said.

What happened Saturday?

It was my birthday

Oh! He slapped his forehead. Emily, I forgot, youre not angry, are you?

No, of course not. It happens.

He wandered over to the window. Remember that summer, when you fed me pies? There was a crate under your window, Id stand on it, and youd set out tea and jam right on the sill.

Emily smiled, warmed by the memory, feeling rather pleased Pete remembered. They reminisced easily about their old gang from the estate, their classmates, and how they once skipped class before their form teacher caught them on a bench in the park and marched them back to history.

In their final year, Pete was over the moon Sophie agreed to marry him. He brought the news to Emily. She kept herself together, biting her lip to stop herself bursting into tears. She listened, ever the mate he could confide in.

She cried into her pillow for weeks, berating herself for never confessing her love for him after all those years.

Later, Pete came round. Grandma and her parents were visiting friends, so the flat was oddly quiet. Wrapped in an old blanket, Emily watched telly. She couldnt quite believe it when Petes voice sounded at the door.

She opened it, seeing him slumped, eyes void, one shoulder against the wall.

Whats got into you? she asked, alarmed.

He stepped inside. They sat in her room. He looked on the verge of tears.

Pete, darling, please tell me, whats wrong?

She There wont be a wedding She said she loves someone else. Emily had never seen him so gutted. She came closer, laid her hands on his shoulders. Pete, calm down. Youll be alright maybe things will work out.

No, nothing will. She said so herself, took back the registry papers You see, its all over, his eyes filled with tears. He dropped his head onto Emilys knees, sliding off the sofa and burying his face in her dress. Its impossible, Emily, just impossible

Pete, sweetheart, please, calm yourself. How about I brew you some mint tea Remember us sipping tea by the window?

I remember, Emily, I do Youre the only one who understands me, youre amazing, he murmured, kissing her knees first hesitantly, then more fiercely, as if he wanted to pour all his pain out through those kisses. He rose, wrapped his arms round her waist, and as he kissed her face and neck, whispered softly.

Pete, stop it, what are you doing

Em Emily

Pete, I love you! Ive always loved you, since year six, my darling

He left after midnight, shamefaced, avoiding Emilys eyes, barely looking at her as he said goodbye.

Ill be waiting, she said, watching as he left until the main door slammed shut.

Pete didnt return, as though that night had never happened. It felt to Emily as if it was all just a dream. Soon after, Pete finished his degree and moved to East Anglia.

Well have to do something! her father grumbled indignantly. Might have to go talk to his parents, if it comes to that.

You know she doesnt want that! Shes on edge, and it could be bad for the baby, her mother replied. Besides, Pete knows about her pregnancy she told him. And he acted like a stranger Maybe he left deliberately

No, we cant just ignore it Its disgraceful, insisted her father.

Grandma kept herself busy knitting, though she wiped away tears every now and then. She felt for her smart, kind granddaughter

After her daughter was born, Emily tracked down Petes work number (she wheedled it out of an old classmate) and called, saying only: Pete, weve got a daughter. I named her Penny.

He muttered some disjointed words; all she could make out was: Congratulations.

When their daughter Penny was one and a half, Emilys parents announced theyd finally finished paying off their new flat in another neighbourhood, and were moving there with Grandma. Well visit every day and help out, promised her mother.

Emily burst into tears.

Oh, come on, whats the crying for? Ill be round every day, help with Penny, well have her over so you can work from home

Im just used to us all together, Emily admitted.

Love, time passes, you need to get your life sorted living on your own, itll be easier to start anew, her mother comforted her.

Recently, Emily kept hearing from her parents, Grandma, and her friends that she should get on with life, that she was still young and that even mums find husbands.

A week later, Emily had the flat to herself. Little Penny, giggling, was trying to walk, stamping her tiny feet landing on her bottom, then scrambling up and reaching for her mum. Emily scooped her up, hugged her, and laughed along.

He appeared suddenly, as he always had. Like the time his wedding with Sophie fell through.

Emily thought her dad had come, as he promised, but it was Pete standing at the door, holding a huge red toy fire truck.

Hello! Are you alone? Not interrupting, am I? Mind if I come in?

Hed matured, seemed thinner his facial features sharper.

Come on in.

He put the fire truck down on the floor.

The child began crying; Emily returned to the bedroom, picked up Penny. I have a daughter now, she said, pointing at the toy.

He slapped his forehead: Sorry

Take the fire truck give it to someone. Penny’s a girl, Emily said.

He took off his coat and walked into the kitchen. Almost nothings changed. Maybe youll at least serve me a cup of tea?

She put the kettle on, holding Penny close. Pete was awkward, struggling for something to say.

He looked at her: blonde, hair loose, wearing a long dress nearly to her ankles, holding her daughter. You look like the Madonna, he murmured, staring.

Emily stayed silent.

Your grandma made the best pies. And remember when we had tea on your bedroom windowsill? And once your grandma watered the plants, and splashed water out the window I was standing outside and got soaked, she never saw me, Pete tried to smile. Do you remember, Emily

I dont remember, Emily interrupted, relaxed, almost indifferent. Pete faltered, silent. Her response was not out of spite about his confusionassuming she had a son rather than a daughter. It was genuine. She really had started to forget those details. Now she had her girl, to whom she devoted all her time and joy, delighting in her, marvelling at her first words, trying to remember every babble, watching her doze off, wake up, and play

Well, drink your tea, I need to make porridge for my daughter.

For the first time, Pete realised he was not wanted here. He stood up, pulled on his coat. Right, another time then. Ill get going, you havent got the time. He lingered a few seconds, hoping Emily would call him back, but she didnt.

As Pete closed the door behind him, she quietly said, There wont be another time. No tea here, not anymore. Not coffee either.

She returned to her daughter, took her in her arms, kissed her, and went to cook porridge.