Mother Occasionally Brought Home New “Husbands

Mum kept bringing home new “boyfriends” Olivia remembered three of them. But none of them stuck around for long; theyd all leave eventually. Mum would cry, hug her tight, and say, “Dont worry, love. Our ship will come in.” Then shed head off to work.

The last one lasted two weeks, but when Mum stopped buying him beer, he got miserable and took off nicking her favourite pearl earrings on his way out. Mum didnt report him. Said it was her own fault.

After that, things were quiet for nearly five years. Olivia started to relax, thinking itd just be the two of them from now on. But of course, that didnt last. When she turned fifteen, Mum fell hard for someone new. Went on and on about how kind he was, how wonderful, how much he adored her.

Olivia was happy for her, honestly. When Mum first brought Simon home, he seemed decent enough. Mid-forties, dressed smart, only had one whiskey at dinner. Cracked a few sharp jokes, chatted about all sorts. Olivia went to bed early, leaving them in the kitchen, half-expecting to find him there in the morning. But an hour later, she heard the front door slam.

Next day, Mum couldnt stop gushing. Said he worked at the council, such a proper man, so worried about her reputation. Talked about them moving in together after the wedding, but theyd wait a year so Olivia could finish school first. Needed time to renovate his flat anyway.

For a while, it was nice. Mum looked younger, brighter. At thirty-six, shed given up on herself lately, resigned to being alone.

Simon and Mum tied the knot right before term started. Olivia was knee-deep in GCSE prep. Hed ask if she needed help shed thank him but say she had it covered, and hed leave her be. Surprisingly respectful, always knocked before entering her room.

They even became friends, in a way. She stopped feeling awkward around him, started chatting about school over dinner. Simon actually listened, asked follow-up questions. And Mum? She bloomed. He spoiled her rotten new earrings, then a gold chain.

The year flew by. The flat got done; time to move. Simon asked if Olivia wanted to come. “Plenty of space.” But shed finished school, felt grown. Wanted independence. Couldnt afford it yet, obviously, but Simon waved that off. Suggested she enrol at the local college. Said hed help her land a good job after.

Before they left, he told her, “Visit whenever. Well pop round too me or your mum. Need anything? Just ask. Were family now.”

For her graduation, they gave her a delicate silver locket. She loved it so much she kept checking her reflection. When theyd picked it, Mum hesitated: “Bit much for her age, no?” But Simon said, “Who elsell give her nice things?” Mum beamed. Shed really landed the perfect husband.

After they left, Olivia adjusted to living alone. At first, she visited often. Then less, as she got used to it. Sometimes Mum dropped by with groceries or cash. Occasionally theyd bump into each other in town. Busy lives, busy jobs.

College was brilliant. Shed spend weekends at Mum and Simons, filling them in on student life. Then one visit, they dropped news: Simon got a year-long assignment abroad. Mum was going too. “Dont worry, well send money.”

Olivia saw them off at the station. Mum teared up; Olivia laughed it off. “Mum, Im nearly seventeen! Ill be fine.” Hugs all round, then they were gone.

They lived far away. Came back for two days at Christmas, piled her with presents took her ages to unwrap everything. Then Mum called: assignment extended. Two more years. Simon would swing by to sort the flat, put it up for rent. Shed come too, but work wouldnt allow it.

Olivia came home from lectures to rustling in her room. Peeked in. “Youre back already?”

Simon looked up. “Hey, Liv. Just clearing space for some boxes.”

He stared. Shed changed in a year. Filled out, learned to use makeup pretty, but it aged her slightly.

She dumped her bag. “Let me change, then Ill fix dinner.”

From the hallway mirror, he watched her pull off her uni jumper. Soft curves underneath. He shook his head. Stupid thoughts.

Over dinner, they caught up. She made up the spare room for him. Later, she heard him shower, pad to the kitchen. Simon couldnt sleep. That mirror image haunted him.

Olivia turned a page, found him in her doorway. Just a towel round his waist. Strange look in his eyes. “You need something?”

Three days later, he left. She tried to forget what happened. Three months on, he was back. It happened again.

When he left this time, shame clung to her like grime. Then worse news: she was pregnant.

She called him repeatedly. Always “Ill ring you back.” Finally, he did. “Miss me that much?”

“Im pregnant.”

“Christ! How?”

Just what he needed a big promotion looming, now this could land him in prison. “Liv, Ill send cash. Sort it. No baby, no scandal. No one finds out.”

She clutched her head. What now? Expulsion from college, everyone pointing fingers. If they found out who the father was? Mum would never survive it.

A week later, Simon turned up with money and an address. A cottage in Norfolk 200 miles away. “Go there. You cant get a termination without parents at your age. Stay put. Or find some local crone pay her to fix it.”

She sobbed, terrified. He hugged her. “You understand, right? No one can know. Itd destroy everyone.”

Next day, he vanished Mum none the wiser. A week later, Olivia left too.

The village was tiny, bleak. She found the cottage, fumbled for the key. After settling in, she asked about the “crones.” Some toothless hag directed her to a house near the woods.

The woman glared. “What dyou want, sinner?”

Olivia burst into tears. The woman softened slightly, gave her water. “Please, I need”

“Out with it. You want me to murder your babe for you?”

Olivia recoiled. “No”

“Liar.”

She fled, the womans cackle chasing her. What now? Alone in this godforsaken place

Daniel came back after serving time for “manslaughter.” Truth was, hed been walking home from the gym when he heard a girls muffled screams in an alley. Two blokes tearing at her blouse. She looked sixteen, tops. Something snapped in him. One punch, then another. Second guy flew back, cracked his skull on the pavement. Turned out to be some bigwigs son. They threw the book at Daniel.

The village was where his nan lived. Came here as a kid. After prison, he craved quiet. The cottage was isolated. He fixed it up, grew veg, raised livestock. Within a year, posh types were driving out for his organic meat and cheese. Paid well, too. Saved up, bought a boat for fishing.

That morning, he checked his nets (poaching, sure) and cast a line. The river bend was still, perfect for fishing.

He sorted the catch, kept the live ones in a tub city folks paid extra for that, weirdly. Wouldnt touch pre-gutted fish.

Sunrise over the water never got old. Today, gold light skimmed the hilltop. Then movement. A girl on the cliff edge, arms outstretched, a bundle in them.

He plunged in as the baby hit the water. Surfaced with it instantly.

Olivia stepped back. Done. Freedom.

Then a cry. Her daughters.

She ripped off her coat, kicked off boots, jumped. Shed find her, save her!

Daniel was wrapping the baby in his jacket when he heard the splash. Olivia dove again and again. Panic would drown her fast. He waited no grabbing a frantic person.

When she didnt resurface, he went after her. Dragged her to shore, hauled both home.

The baby was newborn umbilical stump still raw. He cleaned it, diluted milk in a sterilised lambs nipple (found in Nans things). Sacrificed a bedsheet for nappies.

Olivia woke to ammonia fumes. “Who?”

“Daniel.”

She remembered. “I need”

Fainted again. He fed her later. She devoured the plain food.

Next day, laundry, curtains for privacy. “Head okay?” he asked.

“Bit sore”

“Sorry. You were thrashing like mad.”

She managed a smile. “Thanks. If you hadnt”

“Liv, this wont work long-term. Baby needs registering. We need a plan.”

She cried. He listenedThey stood silently in the garden years later, watching their daughter chase fireflies, the pasts shadows finally washed clean by time and love.