It was seven in the evening when an elderly woman approached the doors of the poshest restaurant in London.
She wore a faded grey coat with a missing button, a simple woolen hat, and wellington boots. She looked as if shed wandered into the wrong place. Inside, the atmosphere was worlds apartmen in tuxedos, women in evening gowns, crystal glasses, candlelight, and the rich aroma of gourmet dishes.
The moment she stepped inside, an awkward murmur spread through the dining room. Some rolled their eyes, others scoffed:
“Whats this homeless woman doing here?”
A waitress with a forced smile approached, eyeing her up and down before saying, “Im sorry, were fully booked.”
Yet several tables were clearly empty.
The woman was about to turn and leave when a young waiter with kind eyes stepped forward.
“Please, come in,” he said, pulling out a chair for her. “We always have room for a guest.”
She hesitated, then nodded gratefully, hanging her coat carefully on the back of the chair before sitting down. Then something unexpected happened.
The waiter handed her the menu. A minute later, she spoke calmly.
“Id like the duck breast with pomegranate glaze, wild mushroom velouté and a glass of your finest red wine.”
The waiter raised his brows slightly. “Pardon me, madam, its just our prices are rather steep.”
She gave a faint smile.
“I know. Ive saved for years. Always for the children, the grandchildrenhelping them, denying myself, putting money aside. But theyve long forgotten me. They dont return my calls. Some even told me not to visit unless I rang first.”
She looked down at the table before continuing.
“Last week, the doctors said I have cancer. Advanced. A week, maybe a month left. I thought if this is the end, I deserve to feel like a person, just once. Not a burden. A guest. Just a woman who can enjoy a proper dinner, like in the films.”
The waiter stood quietly beside her, his eyes glistening. He gave a soft nod.
“Then this will be the finest meal of your life. I promise.”
He left, and when he returned, his tray held not only her order but a dessert”compliments of the chef”and a glass of the restaurants most expensive wine.
All evening, she ate slowly, savouring every bite. The live piano music filled the air. At first, the other diners glanced at her in bewilderment, but soon, they stopped noticing altogether.
