Anne dried her damp hands, winced from a back ache, and moved to answer the door. The bell had chimed softly three times; shed been polishing the window and hadnt reached the hallway yet. A very young, pretty but pale girl with tired eyes stood there.
Anne, I heard you might have a room to let?
Those neighbours, always sending people my way! I never rent rooms.
But I was told you have three rooms.
And? Why should I feel obligated to lease them? Im used to living alone.
Im sorry. I was told youre kindhearted, so I thought
The girl blinked, tears welling, turned and began descending the stairs, shoulders shaking.
Come back, love! I havent turned you down! Young people cry so easily. Come in, lets talk. Whats your name? First names?
Emily.
Emily, huh? I bet your father was a teacher?
I have no father. I grew up in an orphanage, no mother either. Some good people found me in a stairwell and took me to the police station when I was less than a month old.
Dont be sad. Lets have tea and chat. Hungry?
No, I bought a pastry.
A pastry! Young ones never look after themselvesby thirty they get ulcers. Sit, theres hot pea soup, tea, and plenty of jam. My husband died five years ago, but I still keep supplies for two out of habit. Well eat first, then you can help wash the window.
Anne, could I do something else? I feel dizzy, scared I might fall from the sillIm pregnant.
Even better! Just what I neededa pregnant girl. Im principled. How did you end up here?
Why assume the worst? Im married. Tom is from the same orphanage, but hes in the army. He visited on leave recently. My landlady learned Im expecting and gave notice. I have to find a place in a week. We lived nearby, but as you seecircumstances.
Yes circumstances What should I do? Move my bed to the guest room? Take my room, no rentdont mention it or Ill be angry. Get your things.
I wont go far. All Toms and my belongings are in a bag by the building. The weeks deadline is looming, Ive been shuffling since morning.
Thus they became a pair. Emily studied dress design. Anne had been on disability for years after a serious train crash, staying home to knit lace doilies, collars, and baby booties for the market. Her delicate, seafoamlike work sold well; money wasnt scarce, supplemented by garden produce. Saturdays they tended the garden together; Sundays Anne attended church while Emily stayed home, rereading Toms letters and replying. Emily rarely went to church, still unaccustomed, complaining of back pain and dizziness.
One Saturday, while working at the cottage, Emily grew tired quickly, and Anne sent her inside to lie down and listen to old records theyd bought together. After raking, the expectant mother rested. Anne tossed dry stalks into a fire, watching the flames, when she suddenly heard Emily shout, Mum! Mum! Come quickly! Ignoring her aching knees and back, Anne sprinted to the house. Emily clutched her stomach, crying. In a hurry Anne convinced a neighbour, and they raced to the hospital in the old Ford. Emily groaned, Mum, it hurts! Its too earlyIm only due in midJuly. Pray for me, please! Tears streamed down Annes face as she prayed fervently.
At the hospitals admission room Emily was wheeled away, while the neighbour drove a tearfilled Anne home. She prayed through the night, begging the Virgin Mary to protect the baby. In the morning she called the hospital.
Your daughter is fine. She was crying for you and Tom at first, then settled and fell asleep. The doctor says theres no longer a risk of miscarriage, but shell stay for a couple of weeks. Her hemoglobin is low; make sure she eats well and rests when she returns.
When Emily was released they talked long into the night, well past midnight. She spoke of Tom.
Hes not just any orphan. Hes been at the orphanage with me all my life. We were school friends, then fell in love. He cares for memore than love. Look how often he writes! Want to see his photo? Here he is, second from the right, smiling.
Handsome Anne didnt want to upset Emily. Her glasses were long overdue for replacement. The picture was tiny, the faces indistinct. Emily, why did you call me mum in the garden?
Oh, it slipped out of fear. In the orphanage everyonedirector, janitorswas called mum or dad. Ive almost stopped that habit, but it resurfaces when Im nervous. Sorry.
I see Anne sighed, a hint of disappointment.
Aunt Anne, tell me about yourself. Why no pictures of your husband or children? You have no kids, right?
No, no children. I had a son who died as an infant. After my disability I couldnt have more. My husband was like a child to me; I spoiled him, adored him. He was my whole world, like Tom is yours. When I buried him I put away all the photos. I believe hes with the Lord, but looking at them only brought tears, so I hid them to avoid sorrow. Now he needs my prayers, not my tears. If you want a larger photo of Tom we could frame itI have frames somewhere.
On Christmas Eve Anne and Emily prepared for the holiday, decorating and speaking of baby Jesus, watching for the first star. Emily kept shifting, rubbing her back.
Somethings wrong, love. Youre missing half my words. Whats bothering you?
Aunt Anne, call an ambulance. Its time.
What? Its a week early!
I think I miscalculated. Call quickly; I cant wait.
Within half an hour the ambulance arrived at the hospital. On Christmas Day Emily delivered a beautiful little girl. That same day Anne received a telegram for the young father.
January was a whirlwind. The baby brought joy and constant demand. With Toms consent, Emily named the child Annie. Anne wept with happiness. Little Annie gave them both pleasure and sleepless, fussy nightshappy troubles. Annes own ailments seemed lighter.
The day was unusually warm for winter. Anne took the chance to run errands. On her return she saw Emily with the pram, ready for a stroll.
Well go for a longer walk, okay, Aunt Anne?
Sure, Ill start lunch.
Entering the kitchen Anne noticed a framed photo of her husband on the table. She chuckled, Found it, did she? Chose the youngest pictureyoung folks never like old ones.
The soup simmered as Emily brought little Annie back, a neighbours lad helping with the pram. The two women unwrapped the sleeping infant and tiptoed to the living room.
Emily, Anne smiled, how did you find Alexs pictures?
Im not sure what you mean.
This one? Anne pointed to the photo.
You asked Tom for a bigger picture. He went to the studio. I found a frame on the shelf.
Trembling, Anne lifted the frame. It wasnt her husband; a young sergeant grinned, and a pale woman sat on the couch, distanteyed, clutching a cotton ball soaked in smelling salts.
Mum, look at me! Look into my eyes! Whats wrong, mum? Emily sobbed.
Emily, open the wardrobe, top shelfthose are the photos. Bring them all.
Emily fetched several albums and frames. One picture showed Tom?
Oh my! Who is this? Tom? No, its old. Who is she, mum?
Its Alex, my husband. Emily, sweetheart, where was Tom born?
I dont know. He was brought to the orphanage from London after a train accident; they told us his parents were dead.
My baby, Michael, they showed me I recognized a shirt like yours on him, but his face was unrecognizable. Michael! Youre alive! Your wife and daughter are here, and I didnt know. Oh Lord, you brought Emily to me. Darling, pass me the photo.
Emily, bewildered, handed the frame. Anne kissed it, tears soaking the glass. Michael, my sunshine, my dear boy!
Tom, Emily whispered.
Let him be Tom, but this is my son, Emilymy son! Look at his fathers picturetheyre identical!
Emily still hesitated.
Emily, what about the birthmark? A starshaped one above the right elbow? Thats all I had from the crashmatching age and shirt. His arm was damaged; I couldnt see the mark. Why are you silent? Is there a birthmark?
There is. Starshaped. Oh mum, there is a birthmark!
Both women embraced, crying, oblivious to little Annies fussing in the next room, demanding her mothers attention.
A Lady Soothed Her Hands and, Grimacing from Backache, Strolled to Answer the Doorbell.
