“Wait,” he said. “I popped off the train for just a second at your station, and when I got back, my things were gone. Looked out the window, and there was some bloke walking off with my bag. I chased after him, but he vanished into thin air”
“And you couldnt just get back on the train first, *then* sort it out?” asked Emily, raising an eyebrow.
“Right, well, while I was hunting for that chap, my train left without me”
Emily sighed, dragging herself home after a long shift at the little florists where she worked in the heart of London. The shop was always busy, but in the lead-up to Christmas? Absolute chaos.
The air was bitingly cold, snow dusting the pavement as she trudged along, bundled in her thickest coat. She hadnt sat down all day. Right now, all she wanted was to collapse into bed and not move for a week.
Lost in thought, she barely noticed the stranger approaching until he was right in front of hera bloke in his forties, dressed oddly. She sidestepped, but he spoke up.
“Excuse me, could you help me?”
Emily blinked. “Uh”
The man shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “I was on my way to see my daughteron the train. And then this happened.”
She tried to edge past him, but he held up a hand.
“Wait. I got off for a second at your station, and when I came back, my stuff was gone. Saw some bloke walking off with my bag. Gave chase, but he disappeared”
Emily crossed her arms. “So you didnt think to just *get back on the train* first?”
“By the time I finished looking for him, the train had left!”
“You shouldve reported it,” she muttered, irritation creeping in.
“I *did*. They told me to wait. Next trains not for hours. Didnt fancy sitting in the station. My whole life was in that bagclothes, ID, money I just need to wash up and warm up. Ill pay you back,” he pleaded.
“Oh, brilliant. Shall I hand over my house keys while were at it?” Emily scoffed.
The man sighed, looking skyward. “Christ, why does no one believe me?” There was such genuine misery in his face that Emily faltered.
She gave him a once-over. Scruffy, sure, but he didnt seem dangerous. Just hopeless.
“Fine. Come on, then. Cant have you freezing to death.”
“Thank you. Youre the first person whos even listened,” he said, trailing after her.
Inside, Emily slumped onto the hallway stool, exhaustion hitting her like a brick. “Bathrooms down there,” she nodded. “Ill find you something to wear. Whats your name, anyway?”
“William.”
Soon, the sound of running water filled the flat. Emily groaned. So much for her early night.
Her brother had moved to Manchester, but some of his old clothes were still here. *He wont miss them.*
She knocked on the bathroom door. “Left some clothes on the side for you.”
While William got sorted, she microwaved some soup and sank into a chair. If her mum walked in now? Absolute *nightmare* of misunderstandings.
*Please let her be stuck at the shops or at Aunt Margarets*, she prayed.
No such luck. The front door clicked open.
“Emily? You home?” Her mums voice carried down the hall. “Oh, I thought that was you in the shower. Whos in there, then?” She squinted suspiciously.
“Mum, dont shout. He missed his train, lost his stuff. Hes just cleaning up, then hell go.”
“*You brought a stranger home?*” Her mums voice pitched higher. “Have you lost your mind? Should we call someone?”
“Mum, *relax*. Hes been to the station, the policetheres nothing else to do. Hell leave soon.”
The bathroom door creaked open. William emerged, looking sheepish.
“So. How does a grown man end up in this state?” her mum demanded.
William winced. “Well I was headed to my daughters wedding in Manchester. Thenno phone, no wallet, no train.”
“And howd you end up *here*? Were miles from the station!”
“Mum! Let the man eat, for heavens sake.” Emily shoved a bowl of soup toward William. “Careful, though. If my mum likes you, youre never leaving.”
Her mum huffed but shuffled aside. “Just like when you were little, bringing home strays. First kittens, now men”
William ate quietly while Emilys mum muttered about locking up her jewellery (*just in case*).
Eventually, William called a friendturned out he co-owned a small tech repair business. A car arrived to collect him.
Before leaving, he scribbled his number on a scrap of paper. “In case you ever need help. Doubt youll call, but thanks.”
Emily watched him go, an odd pang in her chest.
Three weeks later, on New Years Eve, shed almost convinced herself shed imagined him.
Then, as she worked the busy shop floor, an actual *Father Christmas* strolled inred suit, white beard, the lot.
His voice gave him away before he even reached her.
“I knew youd be working,” William grinned. “Thought Id surprise you. Did it work?”
Emily laughed. “Yeah. It worked.”
Her boss shooed them out. “Go on, then. Live a little.”
A month later, she quit the florists and moved to Leeds.
Her mum was *thrilled*. “One less to worry about. Next, grandkids!”
Funny, how people call the bad stuff “fate” and the good stuff “luck.”
But they usually go hand in hand.
