13November
What a day. Ive finally arrived back from a weeklong business trip in Manchester, and Im still trying to shake the feeling of being caught between two worlds. The audit I was sent to doublecheck ran over, so my boss let me stay a couple of extra nights to finish the paperwork. That meant a later return than Id planned, and now the rain outside is that dreary, November drizzle that makes London look even grayer than usual. Heavy clouds hang low, and a chilly wind keeps trying to slip under my thin coat and the light scarf I barely managed to fasten before stepping off the train.
All I could think of was getting home to the warmth of my own flat, slipping into my favourite cosy jumper, and tucking into something hot and comforting. Then, of course, curling up beside Tom, my husband, and watching a lighthearted film on our little home cinema.
I left the carriage with a small satchel, barely any belongings, and walked onto the platform where the black cabs usually line up. I flagged the first one I saw, hoping it would get me home quickly.
The driver was chatty, perhaps a bit lonely for a man who spends most of his time driving strangers around.
Evening, love. Heading home? he asked as he turned the key.
No, just home, I replied, not in the most polite tone.
He kept talking, trying to pry a conversation out of me.
Back from the audit, eh? Does Tom know youre back? You never know what could pop up, he said, smiling at his own reflection in the rearview mirror.
He does. Hes always waiting for me, I muttered, barely looking up from my phone.
He laughed again, saying something about being forewarned and therefore prepared, and how a little headsup between spouses is a sign of respect. I didnt answer; I just stared at the screen. When the cab finally pulled up outside my building, I thanked him silently for the quiet ride.
The streets I pass every day flash by, familiar and comforting. I love this city; after every trip it feels like returning to an old friend. Its especially sweet now that Tom and I have finally moved into our new flat, a cosy place weve been dreaming about for years. The new home feels warm thanks to all the effort weve both put in, and it beckons us back each time we step through the door.
Not long after we were married, we rented a modest flat near my parents, who often dropped by to help with little Emma, our daughter. Im forever grateful to my mum for that support. When Emma turned five, Tom and I decided to buy our own place on a mortgage, and by now our finances are stable enough to handle the repayments without strain.
We chose a modern neighbourhood with a contemporary school that Emma will soon attend. The building is relatively new, only a couple of years old, which we both appreciated. We dont really mingle with the neighbours its hard to feel like one big family in such a big block, and between work and life we simply dont have the time.
Almost evening now, Tom should be back from picking Emma up at nursery. Theyll be waiting for me, I thought, a warm smile spreading across my face. I could already picture hugging them both, feeling their small arms wrap around me.
I texted Tom:
Hey love, Im on my way. Should be there in about five minutes.
He replied:
Home now. Cant wait to see you!
And thats great!
When I finally reached the eighth floor and pushed open the flats door, I stopped dead in my tracks. The hallway was bustling with people, and for a moment I wondered if Id entered the wrong address.
A stranger in a tracksuit and slippers passed by, shouting a cheerful Hello! as she headed for the bathroom. In the open kitchen, a middleaged couple sat at the table, sipping tea from mugs that look exactly like mine, and even a jar of cherry jammy favouritesat on the counter.
I froze at the doorway, unsure whether to step further. A boy and a girl darted past, followed by an elderly lady who seemed to be their grandmother, scolding them gently:
Dont run about! Sit down and stay put until we sort this out!
Seeing me, she turned, smiled, and said, Come on in, dont be shy. The flats owner, Tom, is in the living room playing with the kids.
My voice came out hoarse: Who are you people?
Were your neighbours, the old lady guessed. You must be the lady Tom and Emma are waiting for?
Yes, Im the owner. Whats happening here? I managed to say, finally finding my voice. Tom! Where are you? Come out!
All the while, the living room sounded like a makeshift cinema, cartoons playing on the TV, childrens laughter filling the air. I pushed my way past a pile of shoes in the hallway and stepped into the main room. The scene that greeted me was astonishing: the spacious living area, its plush carpet, was filled with adults and children all gathered around the screen.
I spotted Tom on the floor beside Emma, who beamed with delight. The sofa and armchairs were occupied, leaving me little room to move. I waved my hands, tried to get his attention, and finally he turned, his face lighting up with surprise and relief.
Hey, love, youre finally here. Weve got guests, he said, trying to pull me into a hug.
Guests? Whats going on? Who are all these people and why are they everywhere in our flat? I blurted, my frustration bubbling over. How could you let strangers in here?
He chuckled, Calm down, darling. Its only temporary. They promised theyd leave by evening.
I tried to steady my breath. Explain, please. I rushed home hoping for a warm, quiet night, and now theres no place to sit, let alone change my coat. I felt tears prickle at the corners of my eyes.
Just then, the couple from the kitchen emerged and headed toward the living room.
Thanks for the tea! It was lovely, especially on a cold night, they said with grateful smiles.
Happy to help, Tom replied. We had a power and gas outage in the building next door. Some of the residents are stuck without heating, and their own central system failed. They asked if they could use our flat for a while. I couldnt turn them awaywhat would I do if the tables were turned?
He led me to the nowempty kitchen, poured a mug of hot tea, and sat me down at the table. Emma and I were just on our way home from the nursery, he continued. We saw a couple of boys playing in the playground, their parents sitting under the canopy. The kids were shivering, and the parents said it was pointless to go back to their cold flats. Lets stay here until the rain stops, they suggested. I invited them in, thought it would be a nice thing to do on such a bleak day.
I looked around at the fifteen or so people crammed into our modest flat. Where are the rest of them? I asked, still trying to process it all.
They heard about my little welcome party from the buildings chat group and turned up. Everyones been keen to join in, especially Emmashe loves having a crowd around her when she watches cartoons. Tom laughed, his eyes twinkling.
I glanced at the sink, noticing a mountain of dishes. What about that? I muttered, my stomach growling for a proper meal.
Dont worry, he said, handing me a biscuit. Ive already given everyone tea and sandwiches. Youll have a chance to eat soon enough; the outages been fixed, and theyll be heading home shortly.
Soon the chatter in the living room quieted as the repair crew finished work on the neighbouring block. One by one, the guests began to gather their things, thanking us profusely.
Thank you all! Its wonderful to have such kind neighbours, one elderly lady exclaimed.
Its nothing, Tom replied modestly. If we ever need a place to stay, you know where we are.
An older gentleman with a mischievous grin whispered to me, Your husbands a topnotch blokekeep him close, love. Good men are rare these days.
A lady with two grandsons added, Were grateful you didnt shoo us onto the street. Your jam is the best; Ill bring you some smoked salmon in return as a thankyou.
Im glad you enjoyed the jam, Tom said, smiling. And thank you all for being so kind to us.
After everyone left, I finally slipped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the days chaos. Emerging refreshed, I found the kitchen spotless and a simple dinner set on the table.
Shall we eat? Tom asked. Emmas asleep now; weve got enough stories for the whole month.
Yes, love, I replied, feeling my hunger return. A glass of wine would do me good after all this stress.
We laughed together, the tension easing as we settled down to a quiet meal. Sometimes, the hardest days end up feeling like the sweetest memories.
