She’s not theirs, those five… Could you even say that?

June 12, 2026

Dear Diary,

Its a strange sort of relief to put pen to paper after another sleepless night. My wife passed away shortly after the birth of our youngest, and the house feels both emptier and somehow more crowded at the same time. No matter how much I try to mourn, there are still five children to look after. Michael, the oldest, is nine; Ian is seven; the twins, Sam and Leo, are four; and the baby, Emily, is just three months oldour longawaited little girl.

Ive learned that you never truly get a break when little mouths are constantly asking for food. If I set the table and turn my back for a moment, I find myself perched on a kitchen chair at midnight, a cigarette dangling from my lips, watching the smoke curl into the dark.

At first I tried to manage everything on my own. My sisterinlaw visited once, helped a little, but we have no close relatives nearby. She wanted to take Sam and Leo with her, saying it would be easier for us, and a couple of neighbours offered to look after the children for a few days. There were even suggestions that I should send the kids to a childrens home. The very thought made my stomach churnhow could I hand over my own blood to strangers? It was a terrible idea, but what else could I do? The children are growing, however slowly, and one day theyll be adults.

I managed to keep up with the older boys schoolwork when I could. Emily proved the most demanding, as any newborn does. Thankfully, Lucy, a district nurse who has been a regular visitor, stepped in. She promised to arrange a livein nanny for us. Itll be easier for a man with a newborn, she said, describing the nanny as a diligent, kindhearted woman who works at the local hospital.

Lucy isnt married yet, but shes used to looking after the children of her large extended family back in the neighboring village. Thats how she ended up in our cottage. Shes short, sturdy, roundfaced, with a long plait that reaches her waist, and she speaks littlejust enough to be understood. Yet her arrival turned the house around. She washed every piece of baby clothing, scrubbed the cupboards, and managed to keep Emily fed and warm while still preparing dinner. The teachers at school and the nursery quickly noticed the change: the children were cleaner, their uniforms neatly buttoned, elbows no longer ragged.

When Emily fell ill with a fever, the doctor reassured us that she would recover with proper care. Lucy stayed awake with her through the night, never once lying down. She coaxed the little girl to drink, and before long she seemed to melt into the fabric of our home.

The younger boys began to call Lucy Mum as if she were their own mother, while the older lads, Michael and Ian, at first were bewildered, then simply started calling her Lucy. No one called her nanny or motherjust Lucy, a reminder that they still had a mothers love in their lives. Some of the village folk frowned on the arrangement.

Why are you hanging that sort of veil over your neck? they asked. We only have a few boys in this village.

She replied calmly, There are boys, but I feel sorry for George and the children have already gotten used to looking for a mother figure.

We lived like that for fifteen years, the days slipping by unnoticed. The children grew, went to school, made mistakes, and sometimes Id snap, grabbing my belt in anger. Lucy would pull my hand away, urging me to calm down first. We argued, we made up; over time, no one in the village called her Lucy any more. They began to address her as Mrs. Margaret Hughes, with the respect her years of service earned her. Michael married this year and is expecting his first child.

Michael now works on the cooperative farm, not as the top mechanic but as a reliable foreman, earning occasional certificates and bonuses. Ian is finishing his engineering degree in the cityLucy beams with pride at his future as an engineer. We all supported each other, sharing mischief from our childhoods and standing shoulder to shoulder when needed. Emily moved up to Year 9, becoming another point of pride for Lucy; she sings and dances with such skill that no village fête feels complete without her.

I often think how fortunate I was to have Nurse Nina choose Lucy as a wife I mean, partner. Earlier this summer Lucy felt a strange heaviness in her abdomen. She was never ill, and at thirtynine the thought of something wrong frightened her. She tried to brush it off, but the pain persisted, and finally she went to see a doctor.

She came home quiet, her thoughts heavy. When I tried to ask about it, she waved it off, saying everything was fine. Later, after the children were asleep, she called me out onto the back garden.

Sit down, George, we need to talk, she said, covering her face with both hands. The doctor said Im going to have another child. Its too late to think about anything else now. Im ashamed.

I was stunned. After all these years without another baby, we were told we could have one again.

Dont be ashamed, love, I replied. Our older ones are almost grown, but nature has placed us in the right spot. Well get ready.

How do we tell the children? she asked, eyes brimming.

Itll be fine. Ill say it tomorrow when everyones gathered, I promised. The next morning, around the kitchen table, I announced, My dear children, youll soon have a brother or sister. The words hung in the air.

Lucy lowered her head, her cheeks flushing as if shed seen a ghost. Michael, who had just arrived with his new wife for a weekend visit, laughed heartily.

Fantastic, Mum! Lets have a baby together! he shouted, joking about raising another generation.

Sam cheered, Yeah, Mom! We need a little brother!

Leo objected, No, a sister. We already have too many boys, and only one girl. Lets spoil the princess!

Emily rolled her eyes at Leo, Spoiling? Youre the one whos been doted on! Ill knit ribbons and buy beautiful dresses for her, she declared, excitement bright in her voice.

Ian interjected, Dresses? Is she a doll? Raising a child takes more than that, he warned.

Well raise them together, I said, trying to keep the peace.

Lucy, however, kept covering her swelling belly with a shawl, pulling it tighter whenever the summer heat made her uncomfortable.

Months passed unnoticed. Michaels first child, a boy, was born, bringing fresh joy to the household. Ian returned from university for the holidays. Sam and Leo enrolled in the agricultural college, and Emily started a new school year. The house felt quieter, the rooms emptier, as Emily spent more time with her friends and a boy from the Sunday dance class.

Lucy stayed up waiting for Emily, and one afternoon a sudden, sharp pain struck her.

George, she whispered weakly, I think its starting.

I felt my legs go numb, my shoes slipping off my feet in a panic.

Hold on, love, Im calling an ambulance! Emily shouted, rushing to the door. A neighbor, Tom, raced over, promising to fetch a car from my father.

Within minutes, a young manToms brotherarrived, offering to drive Lucy to the hospital. I tore my coat from the rack, shouting, Dont be afraid, Lucy, Im coming with you. The night stretched on as I paced the front porch, chainsmoking one cigarette after another.

At dawn the hospital doors opened to a young midwife.

Sit down, dad? Smoking again? Looks like youll have to cut back, she teased, handing me a cup of tea.

How many children do you have? she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

Five, I muttered hoarsely.

Five? Youre rich! Not five, seven now! Your beautiful lady gave you twins!

Twins? I stammered, confused.

A boy and a girl! A screaming boy, she laughed, and a lovely little girl. She handed me a small bundle.

They need to gain weight, so bring what you can, she instructed.

I nodded, still in shock. The whole family gathered for the discharge. The three university friends who had been away for exams turned up, and the nurse solemnly presented two wrapped parcelsone tied with a blue ribbon, the other pink. Lucy stood behind, slightly embarrassed.

I took one bundle, unsure about the other.

Its awkward holding two, I muttered.

Michael reached for the second.

Here, Dad its not my first time, he said, smiling.

Emily peeked inside, eyes widening.

Sister, youre stunning! she exclaimed, hugging the pink parcel.

We gave the nurse flowers and a cake, as was proper, then boarded the cooperatives bus, provided by the farm manager for such occasions.

Thanks, Mum, for everything, Michael said, beaming.

Lucy cradled one of the parcels, a soft smile playing on her lips. God will help me raise these children well, she thought, glancing at me, who clutched the other bundle.

Well raise them, she whispered to herself, together, of course.

What shall we name them? she asked the children.

Names flew around the cramped bus, each child shouting out suggestions that felt right to them.

The bus driver, my old friend Peter, listened to the chatter, wondering how a woman who wasnt bloodrelated could become the mother of five. Yet, perhaps thats what family truly is.

I close this entry feeling exhausted yet oddly hopeful. Life has a way of throwing curveballs when you think youve seen it all. Now, with a new generation on the way, perhaps the house will finally feel whole again.

George.