The day just wasnt going right.
You know how it is, Andrewsome days are like that. Still, he couldnt shake the feeling that everything was getting on his nerves.
He started thinking about his life.
What had he actually achieved? Nearly forty, finished school, did a stint at college, then the army. Had a flat, a wife, two kids, drove an old banger to a ridiculous allotment where he spent more time working than relaxing. No lounging around with a pint for himno, it was all digging, weeding, hauling soil in a wheelbarrow, mowing the patchy lawn. The shed roof had caved in, the fence was rotting, and the whole place felt like it was falling apart.
The tram rattled and screeched like an old tin can as it swayed along the tracks. Andrew sat by the window, watching the streetlights flicker on, forming a glowing chain in the gathering dark. And he kept thinking.
About his life.
On paper, it was all normalwife, job, the allotment, payday, the kids, his parents, his in-laws. Football on weekends, a pint after a sauna at the plot. Holidays, birthdays, family gatheringseverything just ticking along.
But suddenly, it hit him. It was all so ordinary. Quiet. Predictable. Boring, even. He wanted moresomething exciting, something new.
And then he realisedhed always been the steady one. Reliable. The bloke who never rocked the boat. Had he ever really made his own choices? Or had he just followed the path laid out for him?
What if he could start over?
For some reason, his mind drifted to Lucyhis first love. Holding hands, dreaming big, that first kiss the way theyd laughed until they couldnt breathe. His eyes stung, and he rubbed them roughly.
It couldve been so different.
Lucybright, cheeky, always grinning. God, how hed moped when theyd split. Then came Clairethe complete opposite. Calm, dependable. No silly jokes, no nonsense. Everything grown-up, measured.
“Want to take things further? Fineafter the wedding.”
“Brought flowers? Did you nick them from the park?”
“Honestly, someone couldve seen youyoud get fined, then theyd drag you up at the neighbourhood meeting”
Everything was like that.
Right after the wedding, she started calling his parents *Mum* and *Dad*. Slipped into family life like shed always been there. His parents adored hersmart, kind, the perfect homemaker.
But what if that wasnt what hed wanted?
He shook his head. Theyd never even argued. Hed just chickened out. Never took that leap. And then Lucy had vanishedgone. Later, he heard shed married someone else.
The tram jerked to a stop. The doors groaned open, people flooding out, others squeezing in, filling the carriage. Andrew stood and shuffled to the backthree stops to go. He hadnt taken public transport in ages, used to his own car, even if it was a clunker.
As he turned to the window, a voicebright, familiarcut through the noise.
“Andyyy, stand still, would you?”
He whipped around, searching the crowded tram. Tired faces, people lost in their own thoughts, staring at nothing.
Then he saw hera stout woman gripping the hand of a boy, about ten, fidgeting, bursting to tell her something.
“Mum, dyou know what Verity”
“Andrew,” she sighed. “Just stand still.”
“But I wanna tell you now!”
“Tell me at home.”
“I dont *want* to at home! Youll be cooking, then Ann will bang on about her boyfriends, then Dave will drone on about uni for hours, then you and Dadll start yapping about the stupid allotmentwhat about *me*? Whyd I have to be the youngest? And whyd you give me this stupid name?”
“Dont be daft. Its a lovely name.”
“Oh yeah? *Andrew the sparrow, rode a horse, hit a tree, lost his trousers*thats what they sing at me! Mum”
“You ought to listen to your boy,” piped up an old woman with ginger-dyed hair and a red beret. “One day, youll want to talk to him, and he wont want to talk to you.”
The woman scoffed, shooting a sharp glance at Andrew. Their eyes metjust for a secondbefore she turned back to her son.
“Go on then. But keep it down.”
The boy chattered away, grinning, and she actually listened.
And then it hit him.
That was *Lucy*.
Of course it was. How hadnt he recognised her straight off?
*So this is the life I didnt live.*
That couldve been *his* son she wasnt listening to. *His* older kids shed ignore the younger for. *His* allotment shed complain about.
But would he really have been happier?
She hadnt even known him. To her, he was just another bloke on the tram.
A strange lightness filled him. Suddenly, the routine with Claire, the kids, even the allotmentit didnt seem so grey. The fishing trips with his father-in-law and brother-in-law he smiled. No, Claire *always* listened to everyone.
His life was good.
Funnyif his car hadnt broken down today, he mightve spent ages thinking hed messed everything up.
As the tram slowed, he moved to the doors, pausing beside Lucy and her boy. He bent down, whispering something. The kid blinked, then burst out laughing.
Andrew stepped off into the night.
“Whatd he say?” Lucy asked.
“That man? Taught me how to shut up the kid who sings that rhyme.”
“How?”
*”If Im a sparrow, youre a starlinglots of noise, not much spark in you.”*
Lucy went still. “He always did have a sharp tongue.”
“You *know* him?”
“Course not. Dont talk rubbish.”
She sat heavily, pulling her son down beside her. Still a long way to go. Her husband hadnt picked them upjust as well, really. Lately, shed been so irritable, so dissatisfied.
Kept wondering what her life mightve been.
If she hadnt married Mike. If shed waited for Andrew.
And now, here fate had thrown them together.
But the man shed seenfortyish, a bit of a belly, thinning hairjust another bloke heading home after work. No magic. No spark.
“Andy,” she said suddenly, “fancy baking a cake tonight?”
“*Chocolate ripple?*”
“Yeah. Chocolate ripple.”
“*YES!*”
“Shh! Inside voice, Andy.”
Her husband had named their son after his grandad. She hadnt minded.
Nice name, Andrew.
Andrew ducked into the florists near his housejust before closing. Only three white carnations left on the counter.
“How much?”
“What?” The shopgirl glared, exhausted.
“For the flowers.”
“Were sold out.”
“These?”
She waved a hand. “Just take em.”
“I canthere, at least a quid”
“Honestly, just go. Hang onlemme wrap em.”
“Dont bother.”
At home, he handed them to Claire. Instead of grumbling about wasted money, she just smiled. Soft.
“Whats this for?”
“Dunno. Just wanted to.”
Later, sprawled on the sofa, he listened as she chatted on the phone in the hall, voice hushed.
*”Mine brought me flowers today no, hasnt done anything wrong. Always been a bit of a romantic, my Andrew.”*
