THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR
She hurried down the deserted pavement, her heels clicking sharply against the cobbles. Above her, the moon leered shamelessly, grinning like a smug old fool. The city dissolved into the night haze, its buildings occasionally catching the cold, aloof glow of the streetlamps. Here and there, patches of light fought back the darkness, while windows glinted like spectacles perched on the faces of the terraced houses.
Up ahead, a tram glittered like a Christmas tree, rattled noisily around a bend, and vanished into the blackness, as if it had been nothing but a ghost. The clicking of her heels grew louder, echoing off the brick walls. Too lateshed missed the last tram. The moon cackled overhead.
Shed stayed far too long at her friends, then foolishly refused an escort, convinced shed catch the tram. Now, the rhythmic tapping slowed, then stopped. Exhausted, she slumped onto a bench and wiped away frustrated tears. Suddenly, brakes screeched, and a cheerful voice called from inside a car, drawling, *Fancy a lift?* She shrank into the bench, wishing she could disappear. Adventures were the last thing she wantedhome was the dream.
A man leaned out. Dont be scared. Ill get you there in no timejust say the word. The passenger door swung open, and hesitantly, she slipped inside. The leather seat welcomed her, smelling of warmth and something indefinably comforting. On the back seat, a child slept nestled against a massive dog, whose hot breath rustled the stray curls at her neck. She froze.
The man grinned. RelaxAlmas a softie. Wont hurt a fly. He stuck out a hand. Oliver.
She forced out, Eleanor Whitmore.
He burst out laughing. Whitmore? Youre hardly old enough for a name like that! Catching her reflection in the rearview mirrorsmudged mascara, wide-eyedshe barely recognised herself. Huffily, she muttered, Well, thats *your* opinion.
Teacher, then? he guessed. She stayed quiet, lost in thought. Late night for us too, he offered.
Oddly, her fear melted away. It felt like shed known Oliver for yearstheyd slipped into first names without noticing. The whole night had a strange, cosy familiarity. He handed her a handkerchief. Peering into her phone camera, she tidied her smudged eyes and flashed a grateful smile.
Oliver gave her an approving once-over. Youre not half bad, you know. The compliment lifted her spirits. Soon, they were joking like old friends, laughing until Alma gave a warning *woof**Keep it down, youll wake the kid.*
Then the car turned into a dark alley. Her heart lurched.
Just popping into the late-night chemist, Oliver explained, noticing her stiffen. Promised Mum her meds. Wont take a tick.
It was past midnight, and tomorrowor rather, todaywas her day off. No one was waiting for Eleanor at home except a towering stack of marking, so they drove aimlessly through the sleeping city, the cars headlights slicing through the dark like a knife.
Then Oliver invited her back to his place. Oddly, she wasnt surprised.
The flat was on the seventh floor. Oliver carried his sleeping son carefully. In the flickering lift light, they stole glances, caught themselves, and giggled like teenagers. Oliver was tall, broad-shouldered, sun-kissedhis fair hair a striking contrast to his tan. Eleanor, even in heels, barely reached his chin.
Inside, everything was spotless, each item in its placea man who took pride in his home. Oliver tucked his son into bed, Alma flopping down beside them. Over tea and classical music (their tastes matched perfectly), Eleanor felt none of the usual unease of being in a strangers home at this hour. That same eerie familiarity washed over heras if little Freddie were her own, as if this had always been her life.
They talked softly in the kitchen, sipping wine Oliver had dug out. Then, out of nowhere, his voice cracked. His wife had died three years agodifficult birth. Shed insisted they save Freddie, their miracle baby. His mother helped now, stepping in when work swallowed him whole.
Oliver asked Eleanor to stay till morning. She agreedwhether from the wine or something deeper, she couldnt say.
Dawn found her in Olivers bed, woken by tiny fingers patting her cheek. *Mummy,* Freddie whispered, peering into her face. Alma sprawled heavily across her feet. Tears welled as Eleanor pulled him close, murmuring, *Mine, mine.*
Oliver squeezed in with a steaming breakfast tray. Getting on already, eh? he said, grinning. Then, abruptly: Marry me.
She blinked. You dont even *know* me.
I know enough. Lifes longwell figure out the rest. Freddie likes you. Alma likes you. Youll be a brilliant mum.
Outside, the sky blushed pink. Eleanor shut her eyes, replaying the bizarre nightlost in the city, rescued by a stranger, proposed to before breakfast.
Then she peeked. Oliver snored beside her, Freddie wedged between them. Alma, still pinning her legs, cracked one eye open, yawned, and went back to sleep. The alarm wouldnt buzz for ages. Eleanor mentally planned her lessons and drifted off.
The sun burned away the last of the dark. Up in the sky, the moon winked.
