**The Wished-for Wish**
Theyd rented a flat right in the heart of London.
“Like it?” he asked, barely getting the door open before she could step inside.
The place was massive, absolutely stunning.
“Blimey,” she gasped, “this is incredibleand 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 some old cottage.”
“Honestly, who cares? I love it here,” she said, flashing him a cheeky grin, her warm brown eyes twinkling.
He left early the next morning, and after her coffee, she decided to meet up with her mates.
Once he was gone, though, the flat felt eerily unfamiliar. A couple of times, she even got the creeping sensation someone was standing behind herbut she shook it off.
Snapping a few selfies in front of the antique paintings, she got dressed and headed out.
Her friends gushed over the photos, chatting nonstop:
“Look at that chandelierproper posh!”
“And those paintings! Wait whos that? Theres someone behind you.”
She glanced at the photo. Sure enough, a faint outline of an old woman loomed behind her.
“What the?” Her mates exchanged glances.
“Oh, stop it,” she laughed nervously. “Just a trick of the light.” But unease settled in her chest, reminding her of that mornings creeping fear.
The next week flew by in a blur. They strolled through the city centre, along the Thames, bought ice cream, and walked back home. She was growing used to the place.
Rain kept them indoors that weekend. They ordered pizza, curled up with old films, and he dozed off on the sofa. She drifted off beside him.
A thunderclap jolted her awake. Lightning flashed, and thereright in front of herstood an old woman.
Her husband slept soundly, but she was frozen, speechless with terror.
“So, young missus,” the old woman whispered, “how dyou like it here?” Not waiting for an answer, she added, “Have you made a wish in your new home yet?”
“N-no,” she stammered, pressing into the sofa.
*What wish?* Her mind raced. *They had each other, good jobs, even a little studio they rented out. Only thing missing was a babyIVF hadnt worked yet.*
Another thunderclap made her flinch. Lightning lit the room againbut the old woman was gone.
She mustve fallen back asleep.
Morning brought sunshine and blue skies. Only raindrops on the windows hinted at last nights storm.
“Proper good kip on the sofa, eh?” he said, frothing milk in the coffee machine.
“Yeah,” she smiled.
She felt amazinglast nights encounter now seemed like just a dream.
“Speaking of, howre you liking this place? Ive really settled in.”
“Same. Feels like home. Dont fancy changing a thing.”
A few years back, after another failed IVF, their therapist had suggested renting. For a fresh start. This was their third flat.
Time passed, and New Years Eve rolled around.
That evening, her husband mentioned the old landlord would pop by for the next six months rent.
“Bit odd, isnt it?” she said. “New Years Eve?”
“Ah, hes just an old eccentric. Let him come.”
The old man arrived, holding a cakeher favourite, as it happened. They put the kettle on.
Over tea, snow began falling heavily outside. On impulse, she offered, “Stay and ring in the New Year with us. No sense trudging through that. Be nice to have companyjust the two of us well, nearly three,” she corrected with a happy smile.
Big Ben chimed. Fireworks burst outside, their colours dancing in the mirror.
Then, deep in the glass, she saw the old woman again. Smiling faintly, she wavedthen vanished into the glittering smoke.
She barely had time to smile back before the vision was gone.
She never saw the old woman again.
**P.S.**
Years later, walking through Covent Garden, I bumped into an old acquaintance.
“Remember that couple who rented the flat near here?” I asked. “Howd they get on?”
“Funny you should say. Theyre still there. But get thisthe old landlord lives with them now. Ancient, he is, but dotes on their little lad like hes his own grandson. His wife passed, never had kids himself.”
Funny how things turn out.
