**The Wished-for Gift**
They rented a flat right in the heart of London.
Well? What do you think? he asked, barely able to contain his grin as he swung the door open for her.
The flat was hugeluxurious, even.
Bloody hell, she gasped. This is incredible! And look at that view!
But it must cost a fortune?
Oddly enough, not really. Some old bloke let it to me. Said he lives out in the countryside now, in an old cottage.
Oh, who cares? I love it here, she said, her warm hazel eyes twinkling with mischief.
The next morning, he left early for work. She lingered over her coffee before heading out to meet her friends.
But after he was gone, the unfamiliar flat felt unsettling. More than once, she caught herself glancing over her shoulder, convinced someone was there. She brushed it off as nerves.
Before leaving, she snapped a few selfies with the antique paintings in the background.
Her friends fawned over the photos, chattering excitedly.
Look at that chandelier! Absolutely stunning!
And those paintingswait, whos that? One of them squinted. Theres someone behind you.
Her stomach dropped. In the photo, just behind her shoulder, was the faint outline of an old woman.
What is that? her friends whispered, exchanging glances.
Oh, dont be daft, she laughed, forcing calm into her voice. Its just a shadow. But unease coiled in her chest, stirring the fear shed felt that morning.
The next week passed in a blur. They strolled through the city at dusk, bought ice cream by the Thames, and walked back home. She was settling in.
Rain lashed the windows that weekend, trapping them inside. They ordered pizza, curled up on the sofa, and watched old films. He dozed off first, and soon, she drifted beside him.
A thunderclap jolted her awake. Lightning flashed, illuminating the roomand the old woman standing before her.
Her husband slept soundly. She couldnt move, couldnt scream.
Well then, love, the woman murmured, voice like dry leaves. How are you finding it here?
Before she could answer, the woman continued, Have you made a wish yet?
N-no, she stammered, pressing back into the sofa.
*What wish?* They had a good lifesteady jobs, even a little flat they rented out. The only thing missing was a child, but after several failed IVF attempts, shed stopped hoping.
Another thunderclap shook the room. Lightning flared again. The old woman was gone.
She didnt remember falling back asleep.
Morning came bright and clear, the storm leaving only raindrops clinging to the windows.
God, I slept like a log, he said, frothing milk in the coffee machine.
Me too, she smiled.
The terror of the night now felt like a dream.
You know, he mused, Ive really taken to this place.
Same. It feels like home. I dont want to leave.
Two years ago, after another failed IVF, their therapist had suggested renting. A fresh start. This was their third flat.
Time passed. New Years Eve approached.
On the 31st, her husband mentioned the landlord was coming by that evening for the next six months rent.
Tonight? On New Years? she frowned.
Yeah, well. Hes an odd old chap. Let him come.
The old man arrived as snow began to fall heavily. He carried a cakeher favourite, oddly enough. They put the kettle on.
Over tea, they chatted. The snow thickened outside, and on impulse, she said, Stay. Celebrate with us. You cant go out in this.
The clock struck midnight. Fireworks exploded over London, painting the sky in bursts of gold and red.
Then, in the mirrors reflection, she saw the old woman again. She smiled faintly, lifted a hand, and vanished in the cascade of light.
The woman barely had time to smile back before she was gone.
She never saw her again.
**Epilogue**
Years later, I ran into an old acquaintance near Covent Garden.
Remember that couple who rented the flat near here? I asked. How are they?
He chuckled. Still there, funnily enough. But heres the thingthe old landlord lives with them now. Ancient, he is. Helps look after their little boy like hes his own grandson. Lost his wife years back, never had kids of his own.
Strange how things turn out.
