“We werent expecting you,” said her sister before shutting the door.
“Mum died three days ago, and you’re only just arriving now!” The voice on the phone trembled with barely contained anger.
Emily pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder, struggling to hold her heavy bag while fishing for her car keys. The rain grew heavier, drumming against the station canopy overhead.
“Emma, I already explained. I was on assignment in the Highlandsthere was no signal. The moment I found out, I booked the first flight.”
“Work was more important than your own mother?”
“Dont start this. Im on my way. Ill be there in an hour.”
Her sister hung up. Emily slid into the rental car and sat motionless for a while, staring at the rain-blurred city lights. Her hometown, the one shed left fifteen years ago. Back then, she was twenty-five, determined to conquer London. Mum had cried, Dad stayed silent, and Emmaher younger sisterhad screamed that she was a traitor.
The drive to her parents house took over an hour. The city had changednew neighbourhoods, shopping centres, roundabouts. But the closer she got to the old centre, the more familiar the streets became. There was the bakery where she and Emma used to buy fresh Chelsea buns. The school, its paint peeling. And finally, their streetquiet, lined with front gardens and benches by the doorsteps.
The family home stood at the end of the cul-de-sac. A two-storey house with an attic, once white, now grey with age. Light glowed from the windows, shadows moving behind the curtains. Emily parked by the gate, grabbed her bag, and took a deep breath.
The side gate wasnt locked. In the garden, tables covered with white cloths stood under the awning. The wake. A few people smoked by the porch, speaking in hushed tones. They fell silent when they saw her.
“Hello,” she said.
No one answered. Auntie Jean, Mums old friend, turned away. Uncle Mike, their neighbour, shook his head. Emily walked past them, climbed the porch steps, and pulled at the door.
Locked.
She rang the bell. Footsteps, then the click of the latch. Emma appeared in the doorwayolder now, with bitter lines around her mouth, wearing a black dress.
“We werent expecting you,” her sister saidand closed the door.
Emily stood on the porch, stunned. Behind her, the smokers whispered. She rang again. Silence. Knocked.
“Emma! Open up! This is ridiculous!”
The door cracked open on the chain.
“Leave,” Emma said. “You dont belong here.”
“I came to say goodbye to Mum!”
“Youre too late. We buried her yesterday.”
“But you said she died three days ago!”
“So what? Thought youd make it in time? Fifteen years youve been gone, and now suddenly it matters?”
“Emma, let me in. Lets talk properly.”
“Properly? Like how you acted when Dad died? Couldnt even be bothered to come back then!”
“I was in Nigeria! On a research trip! No signal!”
“Always an excuse. Nigeria, the Arctic, work trips. Meanwhile, Mum and I were here. She was ill for three years, Em. Three years! Where were you?”
Emily stayed silent. Shed known Mum was sick. Called, sent money for treatments. But coming back Something always got in the way. Work, projects, deadlines.
“I sent money.”
“Money?” Emma laughed bitterly. “She didnt need your chequesshe needed you. Her daughter. But you chose your career.”
“Thats not fair.”
“Whats not fair? That I quit my job to care for her? That my husband left because I spent more time in the hospital than at home? That my son barely knows me because I was always with Nan?”
The door slammed. Emily stepped down from the porch and sat on the garden bench. The rain had stopped, but drops still fell from the trees. Inside, voices murmured, cutlery clinked.
“Emily Jane?” A womans voice.
She turned. A stranger, around forty, stood nearby.
“Im Sarah, your neighbour. We moved in five years ago. Your mum talked about you a lot.”
“Did she?”
“She was so proud. Said her daughter was a scientist, travelling the world, publishing papers. Shed show us newspaper clippings.”
Emilys eyes stung.
“Did she ever say I abandoned her?”
“You didnt abandon anyone. Life just takes us different ways. Margaret understood that.”
“Emma doesnt.”
“Emmas angry. Shes had it hard. But that doesnt make her right.”
Sarah sat beside her.
“Listen, your mum wrote you a letter before she passed. Gave it to me, asked me to give it to you if you came.”
“A letter?”
Sarah pulled an envelope from her pocket. On it, in Mums familiar handwriting: “To Emmy.”
“Thank you,” Emily whispered, taking it with trembling hands.
“If you need anythingIm in the house with the green gate.”
Sarah left. Emily stayed on the bench, the letter in her lap. She was afraid to open it. Finally, she stood and walked to the car. Just then, an older man stepped outUncle Jack, Mums brother.
“Em? You actually came.”
“Uncle Jack.” She hugged him. “At least someones glad to see me.”
“Course I am. Come inside.”
“Emma wont let me.”
“Nonsense. This is your home too.”
He took her hand and led her to the porch, unlocking the door with his key.
“Emma!” he called. “Emilys here.”
Her sister emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands on an apron.
“Uncle Jack, I told you”
“You told me nothing. Emily has every right to be here. Its her parents house too.”
“The parents she abandoned!”
“Enough, Emma. Margaret wouldnt have wanted this.”
“How would you know what Mum wanted?”
“Because I sat with her at the end. She talked about Emily every day. Begged me to tell you to forgive her if she didnt make it back in time.”
Emma leaned against the wall, covering her face.
“Its not fair. I did everything for her, and she only ever talked about Emily.”
“She loved you both,” Uncle Jack said, pulling her into a hug. “Just differently. You were hereshe worried more about the one who wasnt.”
In the living room, about twenty people sat around the wake tables. Relatives, neighbours, Mums friends. All went quiet when Emily entered.
“Hello,” she said.
Some nodded. Some looked away. Auntie Rose, Dads sister, stood and approached.
“Emmy, love, Im so sorry. Your mum was a wonderful woman.”
“Thank you, Auntie Rose.”
One by one, others came with condolences. Only Emma stayed in the corner, arms crossed.
“Sit, eat,” Auntie Jean said, placing a plate in front of Emily. “You must be starving after the trip.”
“Not hungry.”
“Eat anyway. Your mum wouldve wanted you to.”
Emily picked up her fork, tasted the shepherds pie. Mums recipe. A lump rose in her throat.
“Tell us about your work,” Uncle Jack said. “Margaret said youre at the university now?”
“Yes, the Marine Biology Institute. Researching ocean ecosystems.”
“Still travelling a lot?”
“Needs must. Expeditions, conferences.”
“Never married?” Auntie Rose asked.
“No. Never found the right person.”
“Career woman,” Emma muttered. “Family doesnt matter to her.”
“Emma, enough,” Uncle Jack warned.
“What? Its true. No husband, no kids. Just work.”
Emily stood.
“You know what? Yes, I chose my career. And I dont regret it. What I do matters. My research helps protect the oceans for future generations.”
“Couldnt protect your own mother, though,” Emma shot back.
“Cancer isnt something you can research away!”
“But being there helps! Holding her hand, making tea, staying up when the pain was bad!”
“I couldnt have done it!” Emily shouted. “Understand? I couldnt have watched her fade! Im a coward, fine! I ran! But that doesnt mean I didnt love her!”
Silence. Emma stepped closer.
“Know what she said at the end? ‘Wheres my Emmy? Why isnt she here?’ And I lied. Told her youd come soon. Every day, I lied.”
“Forgive me.”
“For what? For leaving me to handle everything alone? For Mum dying with your name on her lips, not mine?”
“Emma”
“No, listen. You waltz in here thinking you can cry at the wake and then vanish back to your perfect life. But Im left here. With an empty house, medical debts, a son growing up without his dad.”
“Debts? I sent money.”
“You did. But treatment cost more. I mortgaged the house.”
“What? Why didnt you tell me?”
“Pride. And what difference would it have made? Youd have sent more money? No thanks.”
Emily pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling the bank. Finding out how much you owe.”
“Em, dont”
“Im doing this. I have the means.”
While she spoke to the bank, guests began leaving. Quiet goodbyes, sympathetic nods. Soon, only the sisters and Uncle Jack remained.
“Girls,” he said. “Stop fighting. Your mum wouldnt have wanted this.”
“Mum didnt want a lot of things,” Emma muttered. “But here we are.”
“Read it,” Uncle Jack said, nodding at the envelope in Emilys hands. “Might help.”
He left. The sisters stood alone. Emily opened the letter, unfolded the page.
“Emmy, my darling girl. I know you blame yourself. Dont. Im not angry. Youre living your life as you should. Im so proud of you. Proud my daughter is a scientist, doing important things. Emmas angry, but shell come round. Shes a good girl, just tired. Help each other. Youre sisterssame blood. Your dad wouldve hated seeing you fight. Take care, my love. RememberIve always loved you. Mum.”
Emily handed the letter to Emma. She read it, then sank into a chair, crying.
“She was always like this. Making excuses for everyone.”
“She was kind.”
“Too kind. Im the mean one. Angry at you, at myself, at the world.”
Emily sat beside her, wrapped an arm around her sister.
“Youve every right. I was selfish.”
“But Mum forgave you.”
“Will you?”
Emma wiped her eyes.
“Maybe. One day. Not yet.”
“I understand.”
They sat together in the quiet living room. Outside, dusk fell. The house smelled of funeral flowers and leftover food.
“Tell me about Mum,” Emily said. “These last years.”
“Whats to tell? She was ill, had treatment, hoped for the best. Read a lot. Knew your papers by heart. Bragged about you to the neighbours.”
“How was she at the end?”
“Went quietly. In her sleep. I brought tea in the morning, and she was gone. Looked peaceful, almost smiling.”
“At least she wasnt suffering.”
“She was. Just hid it. Said there was no point upsetting us.”
“Usmeaning you and me?”
“And Noah. My boy. He was closer to her than to me.”
“Where is he now?”
“At a friends. Didnt want him at the wake. Hes only ten.”
“Can I meet him?”
“Tomorrow. If youre staying.”
“Ill stay. We need to sort the house, the paperwork.”
“And then what? Youll leave again?”
Emily hesitated.
“I dont know. Work”
“Of course. Work always comes first.”
“Emma, I cant just quit my research. Its important.”
“More important than family?”
“It is family. My team. People who rely on me.”
“And I dont?”
“What do you mean?”
“Im tired, Em. Ten years alone with a kid. Three years caring for Mum. Sometimes I just want someone to look after me.”
“Move to London.”
“What?”
“Come live with me. Ive got a three-bed flatplenty of space. Noah can go to a good school. Youll find work.”
“Youre serious?”
“Completely. Well sell the house, clear the debts. Fresh start.”
Emma shook her head.
“I cant. This is my home. Our home.”
“Home isnt walls. Its people. And people can live anywhere.”
“Easy for you to say. Youre used to moving.”
“Just think about it. Dont decide now.”
The next morning, Emily woke in her old room. Nothing had changedsame floral wallpaper, same desk, same books. Like time had stopped.
In the kitchen, Emma cooked breakfast. A boy sat at the tableEmmas spitting image with the same brown eyes and stubborn chin.
“Noah, this is Auntie Em. My sister.”
“Hello,” he said, offering his hand.
“Hey, Noah. Your mums told me about you.”
“Nan talked about you too. Said you study whales.”
“Not just whales. The whole ocean.”
“Cool. Can I go on an expedition with you?”
“Noah,” Emma chided.
“Sure,” Emily smiled. “When youre older.”
“How longs that?”
“About eight years.”
“Thats forever!”
Over breakfast, Noah asked endless questionsabout the ocean, marine life, her travels. Emily answered, surprised by how bright he was.
“Mum, can we visit Auntie Em in London?” he burst out.
“Noah”
“Theyve got an aquarium! And museums! And”
“Well see,” Emma said.
After breakfast, the sisters visited the cemetery. Fresh soil, a temporary marker, wreaths. Emily placed white rosesMums favouriteon the grave.
“Forgive me, Mum,” she whispered.
Emma took her hand.
“She already did. You read the letter.”
“Still hurts.”
“Itll pass. Not straightaway, but it will.”
They stood in silence, hands clasped. Two sisters, so different, yet bound together.
“You know,” Emma said. “Ill think about London.”
“Really?”
“Noah deserves a good education. Not much for him here.”
“Ill help. With the flat, work, schools.”
“I know. You always helped. In your way.”
Walking back, Emma suddenly stopped.
“Remember when we were kids, dreaming wed live together when we grew up?”
“Mm. You wanted a big house with a garden.”
“And you wanted a flat by the sea.”
“Well, no sea in Londonbut theres the Thames.”
“Close enough,” Emma smiled. “For now.”
That evening, as Emily packed to leave, Emma walked her out.
“Sorry about yesterday. The anger just took over.”
“I get it. Id have done the same.”
“No, you wouldnt. You dont hold grudges. Thats my specialty.”
“But youre honest. That counts for more.”
They huggedtight, real. Like when they were kids, before the resentment.
“Come back in a month,” Emma said. “Help me pack.”
“I will.”
“And dont vanish for another fifteen years.”
“I wont. Promise.”
Emily got in the car, waved. Emma and Noah waved back. The house behind them looked a little less lonely.
Driving to the airport, Emily realised Mum had been right. Family wasnt a placeit was people. And those people needed to stick together, forgive mistakes, help each other.
She texted Emma: “Thanks for opening the door. The second time.”
The reply came fast: “It was always open. I was just in the way. Wont happen again.”
Emily smiled. It would be okay. Mum wouldve been glad.
