The Wish Granted
They rented a flat almost right in the heart of London.
“Do you like it?” he asked, barely able to contain his excitement as he swung the door open for her.
The flat was enormous, absolutely luxurious.
“Blimey,” she gasped, “this is incredibleand look at that view!”
“But it must cost a fortune?”
“Funny thing, actuallyit doesnt. An old bloke let it to me. Said he lives out in the countryside now, in some old cottage.”
“Oh, never mind that. I love it here,” she said, her warm hazel eyes sparkling at him.
He left early the next morning, while she lingered over coffee before meeting up with her girlfriends.
Once he was gone, the flat felt oddly unwelcoming, still too new and unfamiliar.
A couple of times, she even got the unsettling feeling someone was standing behind her, but she brushed it off.
After snapping a few selfies in front of the antique paintings and furnishings, she got dressed and headed out.
Her friends gushed over the photos, chatting nonstop.
“Look at that chandelierutterly gorgeous!”
“And those paintings! Wait whos that? Theres someone behind you.”
She glanced at the photo. Sure enough, a faint outline of an old woman seemed to hover just behind her.
“What on earth?” Her friends exchanged glances.
“Oh, stop it. Its just a shadow from the lighting,” she said with a forced smile, though unease settled in her chest again, reminding her of that mornings strange dread.
The next week flew by in a blur. On warm evenings, they strolled through the city centre, along the Thames, buying ice cream before walking home.
She was growing used to the place.
Rain kept them indoors over the weekend. They ordered pizza and watched old films, her husband dozing off on the sofa while she curled up beside him.
A crack of thunder jolted her awake, and a flash of lightning lit up the roomrevealing an old woman standing right in front of her.
Her husband slept on, but she was frozen, unable to utter a sound.
“So, dear, how are you settling in?” the old woman murmured, not waiting for a reply before adding,
“Have you made a wish yet, in your new home?”
“N-no,” she stammered, pressing herself back into the sofa.
What wish? She had a husband, a good income, even a small flat they rented out. The only thing missing was a childIVF hadnt worked, no matter how many times theyd tried. The thought flashed through her mind in an instant.
Another thunderclap made her jump, and when the lightning flashed again, the old woman was gone.
She didnt even remember falling back asleep.
Morning came with bright sunshine and clear blue skies. Only the raindrops still clinging to the windows hinted at the nights storm.
“God, I slept like a log on that sofa. You?” he said, frothing milk in the coffee machine.
“Me too,” she smiled.
She felt perfectly fine nowlast nights encounter seemed nothing more than a dream.
“By the way, howre you liking the flat? Ive really taken to it.”
“Same. It feels like home. I dont want to change a thing.”
A couple of years earlier, after another failed IVF attempt, their therapist had suggested they rent somewhere newfor a fresh start.
This was their third place.
Time passed, and New Years Eve approached.
On the 31st, her husband mentioned the old man would drop by in the evening to collect rent for the next six months.
“Bit odd, isnt it? Coming round on New Years Eve,” she said.
“Ah, hes just an eccentric old chap. Let him come.”
The old man arrived that evening, carrying a cakeher favourite, as it happened.
They put the kettle on. Over tea, they chatted as heavy snow fell outside. Unexpectedly, she found herself saying,
“Why dont you stay and see in the New Year with us? You cant go out in this weather. Be nice to have companyjust the two of us well, nearly three,” she corrected herself with a happy smile.
As Big Ben chimed and fireworks lit up the sky outside, she caught sight of the old woman againthis time in the mirror. She smiled faintly, gave a little wave, then dissolved into the shimmering bursts of light.
Before she could think, the girl smiled back and waved too.
She never saw the old woman again.
Years later, walking along the Strand, I bumped into an old acquaintance.
“Dyou remember that couple who rented the flat near here?” I asked. “Howre they doing?”
“Funny you should ask. Still there, believe it or not. But heres the thingthe old landlord lives with them now. Ancient, he is, but dotes on their little lad like his own grandson. Lost his wife years back, never had kids himself.”
Funny how things turn out.
