**The Wishing Game**
Theyd rented a flat right in the heart of London.
Well? What dyou think? he asked, barely able to contain his grin as he swung the door open.
The place was massiveabsolutely swanky.
Blimey, she gasped. This is brilliant! And look at that view! She paused, eyes narrowing. But this must cost a fortune?
Funny thingit doesnt, really. Some old bloke let me have it. Said hes living out in the countryside now, in some crumbling cottage.
Oh, who cares? I love it, she said, flashing him a cheeky grin, her warm brown eyes twinkling.
The next morning, he left early. She lingered over her coffee before heading out to meet her mates.
Once alone, the flat felt strangeunsettling, even. A couple of times, she swore someone was standing behind her, but she brushed it off.
After snapping a few enviable selfies in front of the antique-filled rooms, she grabbed her coat and dashed off.
Her friends gawped at the photos, chattering non-stop.
That chandelier! Proper posh, isnt it?
And those paintingswait, whos that? Look, theres someone behind you!
She glanced at the photo. Sure enough, a faint outline of an old woman lurked just over her shoulder.
What on earth? Her friends exchanged glances.
Oh, dont be daft, she laughed, forcing a breezy smile. Just a trick of the light. But unease prickled down her spine, bringing back the mornings jitters.
The next week flew by. They strolled through the city, ice creams in hand, wandering home along the Thames. She was starting to feel at ease.
Then came a rainy weekend. Trapped indoors, they ordered pizza and binged old films. He dozed off on the sofa; she curled up beside him.
A thunderclap jolted her awake. Lightning flashedand there, in the glow, stood an old woman.
Her husband snored on. She froze, too terrified to speak.
Well, dearie, the woman murmured, hows the new place treating you? Without waiting for an answer, she added, Have you made a wish yet?
N-no, she stammered, pressing into the sofa.
*What wish?* She had a good job, a loving husband, even a little studio they rented out. The only thing missing waswell, the baby theyd been trying for. IVF hadnt worked yet, but they hadnt given up.
Another thunderclap. The room flared with lightand the woman was gone.
Morning brought sunshine and blue skies. Only raindrops on the windows hinted at the storm.
I slept like a log, he said, whipping cream for their coffee.
Me too, she smiled, brushing off the night as a dream.
This flats grown on me, you know.
Same. Feels like home now.
A few years back, after another failed IVF, their therapist had suggested renting. For a fresh start. This was their third place.
Time passed. New Years Eve arrived.
The landlords popping by tonight, he mentioned. Needs the next six months rent.
Tonight? Bit odd, isnt it?
Ah, hes an old chap. Eccentric. Let him come.
The old man arrived withof all thingsher favourite cake. They put the kettle on.
Over tea, snow began falling thickly outside. On impulse, she said, Stay for New Years! You cant trek home in this. Be nice to have companyjust us two well, nearly three, she corrected, grinning.
Midnight struck. Fireworks exploded outside, painting the mirrors with colour.
Thenthere, in the glassthe old woman smiled at her, gave a little wave, and vanished into the sparkles.
She smiled back, waving discreetly.
She never saw the woman again.
**P.S.**
Years later, strolling through Kensington, I bumped into an old acquaintance.
Remember that couple who rented the flat near you? I asked. Howd they turn out?
Oh, them! Funny storytheyre still there. And get this: the old landlord lives with them now. Ancient, he is, but doting on their little boy like a grandad. His wife passed, never had kids of his own.
There you have it.
