I was making pancakes in my kitchen when a strange man walked in, Ive been telling everyone ever since. At the time, though, I wasnt the least bit amused. Just imagine: you live alone, theres no one else meant to be in the flat, and suddenlythere it is, coming towards you! Thats exactly how it went.
Id divorced my husband, Peter, five years ago. I was nearing sixty, never gave much thought to finding someone new. The children lived far away.
My life was quiet. I got on famously with the neighbours. Thats probably why, even though times felt uncertain, I had this habitsometimes I wouldnt bother locking the front door. You never know, my neighbour Susan might pop round. I hadnt expected anyone that day, of course. But Id gone out to throw away the rubbish, then got caught up washing my hands and feeding the catMolly is her nameforgot all about the door. And I wasnt afraid. It was the middle of the day in a lively building. Not exactly wandering through the woods at night, is it?
Id set my mind on making pancakes. I was just about to turn another over onto the plate when I spotted a complete stranger. In my own kitchen. He might as well have appeared out of thin air!
In that moment, my whole life flashed before my eyes. Right back to nursery school, I kid you not. It happens, believe me. I thought, this is ita real work of art, this scene here. There wasnt much for him to steal, but Id just bought a big new telly, had my computer, and Id just received my pension. The cash was right there in my handbag in the hallway. I thought for sure hed nabbed it and had now come to see what else he could get his hands on. I whispered, Take whatever you like, just please dont hurt me. I have grandchildren, I want to see them grow up. I wont breathe a word to anyone about you!
And then the man started apologising. Explaining things. My head felt full of cotton wool, I could hardly hear a word. He told me to make sure to turn the cooker off for now. I did, automatically. Sat down on a chair. He sat across from me and told his story: hed been walking down the street, minding his own business, when a rowdy group started pestering him for money. He didnt want trouble, so he made a run for it. Just then, someone was leaving this very building. He dashed in and sprinted up the stairs. The group followed, managing to slip inside as well. He hadnt the time to call for help. He knocked on several doors at first, but no one answered. Tried the handles, and mine opened right up. No surprise, as I hadnt locked it. He asked me to look out the windowsure enough, down there was a gathering of dodgy characters. They loitered for a bit, then moved on, I shared with everyone, still in disbelief.
He introduced himself as Anthony Cooper. When my fright settled, I took a proper look at him. A large, rather clumsy man, but his eyes were kind. If you put him in a red coat, hed have made a perfect Father Christmas.
Excuse me, but might I have a pancake? I havent tasted one for agesnot since my wife passed, Anthony asked.
Hed already taken off his shoes and was sitting there in his coat.
What, and you actually fed him? Youre braver than Id ever be! Id have chucked him out, no question! Susan, my neighbour, said in amazement later.
But on impulse, I decided to trust him. I only asked that he wash his hands first. He dashed off to the bathroom, as good as gold. After that, we had tea for ages. He talked about his lifea widower, never had any children. Hed got used to being alone.
Later, he apologised again before leaving.
I felt like the heroine of every British telly drama. I was bursting with things to tell. After chatting it all out over the phone, sharing every detail, I suddenly felt emptiness. Perhaps, just maybe, I shouldve kept that conversation going? Invited him round for more than just pancakes? My pies, especially the mushroom ones and the jam-filled ones, are truly something.
But what could I do? The chance had gone. Still, the next day, I baked some pies anyway. Thats when there was a knock at the doora shy, tentative knock. I thought it was Susan. Peeking through the spyhole, I darted around the flat, straightened my hair with a brush, ditched my old housecoat and quickly slipped into my best knit trouser suit. Spritzed on a bit of perfume Id nearly forgotten about. Then I flung open the door.
Anthony stood on the doorstep with a bunch of flowers.
I I just wanted to come round, you know. Say sorry again for frightening you. Here, please take these, and Ill be off, he stammered.
What do you mean, off? Ive just baked some pieswont you join me? I beamed.
As I was coming up the stairs, I could smell itI thought, the whole place smells like a bakery! I guessed it must be you. Someones very lucky to have you as a wife, Anthony said, sounding slightly wistful.
Im not married. Please, come in! I replied.
Since that day, weve lived together. Hes become my right hand in the garden. My children welcomed him, and the grandchildren now call him Granddad Tony. Hes taken to them as if they were his own.
Hed grown used to solitude, but hes blossomed in our new family. The once-strange Anthony became one of our own.
My friends are all jealous.
Imagine finding a decent man at your age! And in such a remarkable wayhe just turned up out of nowhere! they exclaim.
I can only agree. Only now, I always lock my door. Just in case!
