Sweetheart, dont think badly of me! Im not a vagrant, I said, introducing myself as Michael Seymour. Id travelled up to my daughters flat in York. It was a hard tale to tell.
Only a few hours remained until the New Year. The office had long emptied, but no one was waiting for Irene.
To avoid clocking in on the first of January, she decided to finish her shift early. By the time she got home, a couple of salads, some fruit and a bottle of sparkling wine were already waiting in the fridge, all prepared in advance. She had no one to dress for, so she slipped off her heels and pulled on a soft nightgown.
It turned out that she and Andrew had split a few months earlier, and the breakup had been so painful that Irene wasnt in any hurry to start a new relationship. Being on her own now felt comfortable.
Andrew kept calling, trying to win her back, but Irene wasnt willing to start over. Were not right for each other, its too complicated, she thought. She didnt even want to recall him; it was the past, and she didnt want to ruin her holiday.
She stepped off the minibus, just a few paces from her front door. By the entrance, on a bench, she spotted an elderly gentleman standing beside a small Christmas tree.
Probably visiting someone, she mused.
She greeted him, and he gave a small nod without meeting her eyes. For a moment she thought she saw a glint of tears in his gaze, or perhaps it was just the reflection of the streetlights, but she didnt linger and hurried into the stairwell.
It was getting chilly, and Irene shivered. After a quick shower she slipped into her favourite fluffy nightgown, poured herself a mug of tea and moved to the window.
Oddly, the old man was still sitting on the bench. An hour had already passed since Irene arrived home, and there were only two hours left until midnight. If hed come to visit, why was he still out there? And that sparkle in his eyes! She set the table, switched on the fairy lights on her own tree, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the lonely stranger.
Half an hour later she peeked out again; he was still motionless. Maybe hes feeling unwell, she thought, and could freeze out here.
She threw on a coat and went outside. Sitting beside him, she asked, Excuse me, are you alright? I noticed youve been sitting here a long time. Its freezing out. Can I help with anything?
The old man sighed. Nothing, love. Im fine, Ill sit a bit longer and then Ill be on my way.
Where to?
To the station, then home.
Im sorry, but I cant have you out here in the cold tomorrow morning. Please, come in, warm up, and then you can go wherever you need.
He hesitated, but she insisted, No buts! Come in.
If Irenes friend Samantha had seen her now, shed have rolled her eyes, but Samantha wasnt there, and Irene couldnt just leave the man out in the cold.
He rose, took the tiny tree, and asked, May I have it?
Sure, why not, she replied.
Inside, he placed the tree modestly in the hallway and stripped off his coat. Each step seemed to cost him effort; he was clearly chilled. He settled at the kitchen table, and Irene poured him a cup of tea. He warmed his hands on the mug, took a few sips, then looked up.
Sweetheart, dont think badly of me! Im not a vagrant. Im Michael Seymour. I came to see my daughter. Its a painful story. He went on to explain that he and his exwife, Louise, had split years ago after he fell for another woman, the younger Martha. Hed been a wandering father, trying to support his daughter, Emma, who was five at the time. Louise, proud as she was, refused any help, even child support, insisting she could raise Emma alone. The tension grew, and one day Michael slammed the door and walked away to be with Martha. He tried to send money for Emma, but Louise always returned it, and eventually he stopped trying.
A decade later, after Martha passed away, Michael and his parents moved back to York. His parents had died, so he lived in their old flat, later selling it and buying a cottage on the outskirts of town. He and Martha never had more children, and two years ago she died, leaving him alone.
He confessed that he hadnt expected forgiveness when he walked up to his daughters door. Hed bought the little tree, hoping to see her, but she wouldnt let him in. I understand now why Im here, he said. I have a house, a decent pension, and I could help my daughter if she wanted. All I ever wanted was to be part of her life.
He sighed, feeling the weight of years. If Louise had let me see Emma, things might have been different. He left her apartment, wandering aimlessly until he found this bench and sat down, as if frozen in time. He thought perhaps fate had another purpose for him.
A neighbour, seeing his shiver, offered a place to rest. You can stay on the sofa tonight; the bus wont run until morning, and its almost midnight. Ill make you a bed.
Michael looked at Irene. Its very uncomfortable for me, dear. No one would normally let a stranger in like this. Honestly, Id rather not be alone tonight. If youll have me, Ill stay until morning.
Agreed, she said.
In the morning he gathered his things. Thank you, Irene. Youre an angel; you saved me from a foolish decision to stay out here. If you ever want to visit, my cottage isnt far. I have a small apiary, five hives behind the house, and in summer the garden is lovely. Weve got apples, pears, everything you could want, and a river nearby for a winter walk.
Will do, Michael, she replied.
He left, disappearing around the corner. Irene watched the window until his figure vanished.
Thats how it goes. Sometimes strangers become family, and loved ones stay hidden. Irene, whod lost her parents early, listened to the old mans sad tale and promised herself shed visit him again.
Feel free to share your thoughts.
