After his wife passed away, Arthur Wilson felt as though his home would remain empty forever. His daughter, Emily, lived with her family in another city and rarely visited. Evenings were spent in silence, staring at old photographs of happier times. When Emily called one day, speaking not just of his health but also his loneliness, he assumed she might visit—but instead, she suggested renting out the spare room. A colleague’s brother, Oliver, had lost his flat after a divorce and needed a place.
Soon enough, Oliver moved in. At first, he seemed polite and quiet—paid rent on time, ate little, even shared the occasional meal. They’d watch telly together, chat now and then. But then things changed.
One evening, Oliver brought home two drunken mates. They laughed, smoked, and made noise till dawn. It happened again. Arthur tried to reason with him, but Oliver just shrugged. “I pay rent. The contract doesn’t say I can’t have mates over.” Then came Oliver’s girlfriend, Sophie. At first, she visited—then she stayed. Oliver started hinting he’d like to swap rooms. Arthur resisted but eventually gave in.
One morning, Sophie made him breakfast—scrambled eggs and toast. Oliver spoke kindly. “We’d like to stay. It’s close to work, and you’re good company. No more rowdy nights.” Then Sophie offered, “Ever thought of country life? My aunt has a cottage in Greenfield—no rent, just upkeep.” Arthur was hurt at first, but agreed. “Better peace in the countryside than living in a boarding house.”
The cottage was small and worn, but cozy. Arthur tidied up, fixed the fireplace with help from his neighbour, George—a cheerful, handy bloke who showed him the ropes and invited him fishing. In spring, the cottage’s owner, Beatrice, arrived with food and introductions. Arthur served fish stew, George joined in, and soon enough, Beatrice came every weekend. Then, everything shifted.
When Arthur and Beatrice returned to the city to sort things with the lodgers, Sophie answered the door—pregnant. “Oliver and I got married,” she said. Beatrice exchanged a glance with Arthur, then replied, “Move into our flat—we’ll take the cottage.” Oliver was baffled, until Arthur added, “We’re getting married too. Everyone deserves warmth.”
A son was born soon after. Beatrice retired, helping with the baby while she and Arthur spent weekends in Greenfield. They fixed up the cottage, ready for grandchildren, and George built a crib. What began as chance lodgers became family. Life takes strange turns—but keeping your heart open makes all the difference.
