Emma eased her taxi to the side of the A1, even though every instinct screamed at her not to stop. There, on the verge, lay a manhe wasnt sitting, he wasnt standing, just curled up beside the tarmac as the winter sleet battered the windscreen, the wipers struggling to keep up. She got out, grabbed her torch, and walked over.
The man wore no hat, his coat was torn, and his face was streaked with mud. His eyes were open but vacant. Emma crouched, one hand holding her side; her bump already made bending awkward.
Hey, can you hear me?
He blinked slowly; his lips moved but made no sound. Emma touched his handstone cold.
Come on, lets get you out of the cold.
He didnt answer. Somehow, she managed to drag him into the back seat and draped her coat over him. He brought with him a sharp, unfamiliar smell. She grimaced, then started the car.
At A&E, the duty doctor looked them both up and down like they were trouble.
No ID?
No. I found him by the road.
Do you know his name?
Emma shook her head.
Well log him as unidentified. You can go.
Emma fished out some crumpled twenty-pound notesthe last of her cash until payday in four daysand laid them on the desk.
Please… just run some tests on him. Anything.
The doctor glanced at her belly, then at the money.
You should be resting yourself. How far along?
Seven months.
He sighed, picking up the notes.
Alright. Well sort him out a bed.
Emma scribbled her name and mobile number on a scrap of paper and handed it to the nurse.
Ring me if anything happens.
The nurse nodded, but her eyes were sceptical.
The next morning, Emma returned. The bed in the ward was neatly made, window half open. Empty.
He left in the night, the nurse muttered, not looking up from the ledger. Didnt even say thank you.
Emma nodded and left. She wasnt upsetjust exhausted. Shed spent her last bit of money, lived off toast and instant noodles for three days, lugged that man to safety, and he hadnt bothered to say goodbye.
Old Joe, the senior cabbie back at the depot, gave her a wry smile when he saw her face.
So, Emma, been saving souls again?
Emma poured herself some water from the cooler.
Im fine.
You need looking after yourself, girl. You shouldnt be behind the wheel with a belly like that.
Emma spun round.
I get it, Joe. But I need the money. The babys coming soonhow am I supposed to live? On benefits? In my tiny room at the hostel?
Joe fell silent. Emma strode out. Her shift ran through until dawn.
The next month dragged grimly by. Her bump pressed against her ribs, legs ached at the end of each shift. She ferried fares through rain and wind, counting down the days.
She tried not to think about Ian, whod only sent a single text when he learned she was pregnant: Im not ready. Sorry. Then changed his number. Emma didnt bother trying to find him. No point.
One Saturday, the dispatcher let her finish early. Emma climbed the worn steps to her hostel room, kicked off her shoes and sat on her bed. She was so shattered she could barely manage to undress.
A small stone pinged off the window. Emma flinched, looked out. Below, a sleek black car with tinted windows waited.
The Purchase
A door opened. Out stepped a man in a long coat. She didnt recognise him at first. But it was himthe one from the roadside.
Emma made her way down, standing in the doorway, gripping the frame for support. He looked utterly differentsmart clothes, upright stance, clean-shaven.
Its you?
He nodded.
Patrick. Ive been looking for you.
Emma folded her arms.
Why?
Patrick took a cautious step closer.
You saved my life. Id had an accidentgot knocked on the head. Lost my memory. I wandered off, not knowing who I was. If it hadnt been for you, I wouldnt have made it through the night.
Emma stayed silent. Patrick continued.
My people found me in hospital that same night. Took me to a private clinic. My memory came back in two weeks, and I started looking for the woman who’d got me there. The nurse gave me your number.
Emma shivered; her thin jumper was no match for the cold.
Well, youve found me. Now what?
Patrick pulled an envelope from his pocket.
Take this.
Emma didnt move.
I dont want your money. Thats not why I stopped.
Its not money.
He extended the envelope, insistent. Emma took it, opened itinside, keys and documents. She scanned the paperworka deed for a flat in central London, three bedrooms.
This must be a joke?
Patrick shook his head.
All the legal works done. Registration sorted. Just move in.
Emma clutched the envelope.
Why are you doing this?
Patrick met her eyes.
Because most people would have driven on. But you pulled over. Heavily pregnant, alone, in the middle of a snowstorm. Spent your last pennies on a perfect stranger. Your child will be here soon. She deserves a proper home. A decent start.
He turned to walk back to his car. Emma found her voice.
Wait! I cant just accept a flat. Its too much.
Patrick stopped, looked back.
Then call it a debt paida life for a future.
He got in his car and drove off, leaving Emma alone with the envelope.
Within a week, Emma moved into the new flat. Light streamed through the big windows; the place was freshly renovated, sparsely furnished, but it didnt matter. It was warm, clean, peacefulno one banging on the walls at all hours.
Joe helped her move her boxes, trudging from room to room, shaking his head in disbelief.
Well, lucks finally turned for you, Em. You picked up a tramp and he turned out to be a wealthy gent.
Not wealthy, she corrected, smiling. Just…grateful.
Joe grinned.
One thing, stay off those roads now. You need to rest before the baby comes.
Emma nodded. It was getting harder to walk; her legs swollen, her bump enormous. Another month and shed be a mother.
Labour was hard but straightforward. A baby girl. Healthy, with a powerful cry. Emma named her Alice. Joe came to the hospital with a bunch of flowers, hovering awkwardly by the door.
Congratulations, Mum.
Emma gave a tired smile, taking Alice in her arms. The little girl closed her eyes and sniffled gently into sleep. So tiny, so warm. Emma cuddled her close, knowing shed made the right choices.
Ian turned up six months later. No phone call, no warning. Just appeared at her doorrumpled, carrying a carrier bag, looking lost and worn.
Hi.
Emma said nothing. Alice slept in her pram behind her.
Can I come in?
No.
Ian tried to peer around her into the flat. Emma saw his eyes wandertaking in the high ceilings, the freshly painted walls, the details of a comfortable life.
I heard is it true some bloke gave you a flat?
Emma folded her arms.
Whats it to you?
Ian held up the bag.
I brought toys. For our daughter.
Emma didnt take them.
Why are you here, Ian?
He shrugged, scratching the back of his head.
I thought maybe we could try again? I panicked before. Ran off. I realise now, I shouldnt have.
Emma raised an eyebrow.
Realised after you heard about the flat, did you?
Ian coloured.
Thats got nothing to do with it! Im thinking about our family. Our child.
Our family? Really?
Emma stepped forward, and Ian faltered.
You left when I needed you most. Didnt call, never asked if we were alright. Didnt send a penny. And now youre back because you think you might cash in?
He tried to protest.
I just wasnt ready back then
Shut it!
He fell quiet. Emmas voice was low, steely.
My daughter doesnt know you. She never will. Her birth certificate is blank and thats how its staying. I dont want your money or your help. I dont want you at all.
Ian pressed the bag to his chest, his knuckles tightening.
Youll regret this! A child needs her father.
Emma gave a cold smile.
A fathers the man whos there. Not the one whos scared off, only to return when its easy.
She closed the door in his face. Ian stood for a moment, then thumped the doorframe and walked away. Emma leaned against the door, breathing out. Her hands trembled, but inside she felt calm and settled.
Alice woke and started to cry. Emma scooped her up gently.
There, darling. Its alright.
Patrick called by sometimesmaybe once a month, sometimes less. Hed bring little things for Alice, sit in the kitchen with a cup of tea. There werent many words between them, but Emma felt at peace around him. She didnt ask him questions. She didnt need to.
One day, Alice crawled to him and grabbed his shoelace. Patrick bent down, offering her his finger. She grabbed it tight and beamed.
Shes stubborn, Patrick joked.
She gets it from me.
He smiled back.
Good.
He got up, ready to leave. At the door, he hesitated.
Emma, if you ever need anythingdoctors, paperwork, whateverring me.
Emma nodded.
Thank you.
Patrick left. Emma closed the door and turned back to Alice, sitting beside her on the floor. The baby crawled over and bumped her head against her mothers knee. Emma stroked her soft hair.
Through the window, the city glowed with lights. The flat was warm and quiet. Alice drifted to sleep. Emma closed her eyes. A pregnant taxi driver once stopped for an unconscious stranger on a winter road… and, a month later, a luxury car pulled up just for her.
