**A Wish Granted**
We rented a flat right in the heart of London.
Do you like it? he asked, barely able to contain his excitement as he swung the door open. The place was massiveutterly luxurious.
Blimey, she gasped, this is incredible! And look at that view! Then, lowering her voice, But it must cost a fortune?
Oddly enough, not really. An old man let it to me. Said he lives out in the countryside now, in some old cottage.
Oh, never mind that, she laughed, her warm brown eyes sparkling. I love it here.
The next morning, he left early for work. She lingered over her coffee before heading out to meet her friends. After hed gone, the unfamiliar flat felt unsettlingtoo empty, too quiet. More than once, she caught herself glancing over her shoulder, half-expecting someone there. Shaking off the unease, she snapped a few selfies by the antique paintings, then left.
Her friends gushed over the photos.
Look at that chandelier! Absolute dream!
And those paintingsoh! Wait, whos that behind you?
She frowned, zooming in. A faint, shadowy outline of an old woman hovered just behind her.
What is that? her friends whispered.
Dont be daft, she forced a laugh, just a trick of the light. But the knot in her stomach tightened, memories of that mornings unease creeping back.
The week passed in a blur. They strolled along the Thames, bought ice creams from a street vendor, and walked homehome, already it felt like that. She was settling in.
Rain kept them indoors that weekend. They ordered pizza, curled up with old films. He dozed off on the sofa; she drifted beside him.
A crack of thunder 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, dear, the woman murmured, how are you finding it here? Not waiting for an answer, she added, Have you made a wish yet?
N-no, she stammered, pressing back into the sofa.
What wish? They had everythinggood jobs, a cosy studio they let out. Only the baby hadnt come, despite rounds of IVF. The thoughts raced as thunder shook the windows. Another flashand the woman was gone.
Morning brought sunshine and blue skies. Only raindrops clinging to the panes hinted at the storm.
Slept like a log, he grinned, frothing milk for their coffee.
Me too, she smiled, shaking off the night as a dream.
Dyou still like the flat? Ive really taken to it.
Dont even jokeits perfect. Feels like home.
Two years ago, after another failed IVF, their therapist had suggested rentingfor a fresh start. This was their third place.
New Years Eve approached. On the 31st, her husband mentioned the old man would stop by for the next six months rent.
Bit odd, isnt it? New Years Eve?
Ah, hes eccentric. Let him come.
The old man arrived with a cakeher favourite, oddly. They put the kettle on. Over tea, as snow began to fall heavily, she surprised herself:
Stay and see in the New Year with us. You cant go out in this. Be nice to have company. She corrected with a shy smile, Well, almost three of us.
Midnight struck. Fireworks burst outside, painting the mirror in flashes of colour. And there, in the glass, the old woman reappeared. She smiled faintly, gave a small wave, and vanished into the sparkling light.
She smiled back, just as discreetly.
She never saw her again.
**P.S.**
Years later, walking through Covent Garden, I ran into an old acquaintance.
Remember that couple who rented that flat near here? How are they?
Funny you should ask. Still there, actually. And the old landlord? Lives with them now. No family of his own, but he dotes on their little boy like a grandson.
Life works in strange ways.
