THE NIGHT VISITOR
She hurried along, her heels clicking against the empty pavement. Above, the moon leered down, smug and silver-bright. The city dissolved into the night haze, its buildings flickering like cold, distant spectres under the lunar glow. Streetlights fought back the dark, clawing patches of visibility from the void. Windows glimmered like spectacles perched on the faces of drowsy houses.
Up ahead, a tram burst into view, ablaze with lights like a Christmas tree. It rattled around the corner and vanished into the night, swallowed whole by the shadows.
The echo of her heels sharpened, fracturing against brick walls. She had missed the last tram. The moon chuckled, cruel and knowing.
Shed stayed too late at her friends flat, stubbornly refusing an escort, certain the tram would wait. Now her footsteps slowed, then stopped. Exhausted, she slumped onto a bench and wept into her hands.
Thenbrakes screeched. A voice, half-sung, half-spoken, lilted from the car: “Fancy a ride?” She shrank into the bench, wishing to disappear. No adventures tonightjust home, distant as a dream. A man leaned out. “Dont be scared. Ill get you there quick as you like.” The passenger door yawned open. Hesitant, she slipped inside.
The leather seat cradled her, warm and smelling faintly of something comforting. A child slept in the back, curled against a massive dog. Its breath stirred the curls at her neck. She froze.
The man flashed a grin. “Dont worryAlmas gentle as a lamb.”
“Edward,” he offered, extending a hand.
“Eleanor Whitmore,” she managed.
He burst out laughing. “Bit grand for someone your age, isnt it?”
Catching her reflection in the rearview mirrorsmudged mascara, wide eyesshe barely recognised herself. “Depends whos asking,” she muttered.
“Teacher, then,” he deduced. She said nothing, lost in thought.
“Were late too,” Edward ventured.
Her fear melted. Something about him felt familiar, as if theyd known each other lifetimes. They slipped into easy banter, laughing like old friends. Alma gave a warning *woof* from the back*quiet, youll wake the boy.*
The car veered into a dark alley. Her heart lurched.
“Just popping into the chemist,” Edward explained. “Promised Mum her medicine. Wont take a tick.”
It was past midnight, the weekend stretching ahead. No one waited for Eleanorjust a stack of unmarked essays. They drove on, the car slicing through the night like a ghost.
Then Edward invited her home. She wasnt surprised.
The flat was on the seventh floor. He carried his sleeping son gently. In the lifts eerie glow, they stole glances, then laughed like naughty schoolchildren. Edward was broad-shouldered, sun-kissed, his fair hair bright against his tan. Eleanor, even in heels, barely reached his shoulder.
The flat was immaculatea mans careful order. Edward tucked his son into bed; Alma flopped beside the cot. They drank tea, listened to classical music, their tastes uncannily aligned.
Eleanor felt no unease. The strangest thought bloomed: *This is my family. This boy is mine.*
Over wine, Edwards voice thickened. His wife had died three years agochildbirth, complications. Shed begged the doctors to save the baby. His mother helped now, watching little Oliver when work swallowed him.
He asked her to stay. She nodded, whether from the wine or something deeper, she couldnt say.
Morning came soft as a whisper. A childs voice nudged her awake. “Mummy,” Oliver lisped, patting her cheek. Almas bulk weighed down the bed.
Eleanor clutched him, tears pricking. “Mine,” she breathed.
Edward shouldered in, balancing a steaming breakfast tray. “Getting on well, then?” His grin faltered as he blurted, “Marry me.”
Eleanor blinked. “You dont even know me.”
“I know enough. Lifes longwell learn the rest. Oliver likes you. Alma likes you. Youll be a good mother.”
Outside, dawn blushed pink.
Eleanor stirred, eyes still closed, replaying the dreamthe citys hungry dark, the stranger whod saved her.
Beside her, Edward slept. Between them, Oliver snuffled. Almas weight pinned the blankets.
She wriggled free. The dog cracked one eye, yawned, and dozed off.
The alarm wouldnt ring for ages. Eleanor mentally sketched her lesson plan, then drifted back to sleep as the sun burned away the night.
Somewhere high above, the moon winked.
