**An Unexpected Visitor at the Cottage: That Evening Changed Everything**
I was just about to leave the office when my phone rang. It was my old friend Margaret from the village. She still lived near the little cottage I’d inherited from my parents—a quiet escape I rarely had time for these days.
“Eleanor, hello! You’re not at the cottage now, are you?” Margaret’s voice was urgent. “My youngest, James, went camping with his mates last night near your place. He swears he saw lights moving inside! Someone was definitely there!”
“Oh, Maggie, it’s probably just the sunset reflecting off the windows—you know how they catch the light,” I said, brushing it off. But a cold knot tightened in my chest.
“Just thought you should know,” Margaret replied before hanging up.
I tried to focus on my paperwork, but my mind kept wandering back to the cottage. What if someone had broken in? Were the doors still locked? Had anything been taken? Scolding myself for being silly, I grabbed my coat and left early anyway.
At home, I told my daughter Charlotte I’d be visiting a friend and might be late. The village was only an hour’s bus ride away. Dusk was falling as I walked up the gravel path to the cottage, my heart pounding like a drum.
And there it was—light in the windows! First in the front room, then flickering to the kitchen. I rushed to the gate, spotting an unfamiliar black Land Rover parked nearby.
As I pushed through the gate, I froze. A stranger stood in the garden, holding a torch. He looked surprised but not alarmed.
“Evening, Eleanor,” he said calmly. “Don’t be frightened—I’m Edward. Your son-in-law Oliver’s colleague. He rang me just now, said you might show up. Didn’t want you getting a scare if you saw a bloke in your house. Meant to be a birthday surprise…”
“What surprise?” I snapped, brushing past him into the cottage.
Inside, everything was tidy—but the air smelled faintly of fresh plaster. Edward followed, awkwardly explaining, “I’m a stonemason. Oliver’s known me for years. Said your fireplace was crumbling, wanted it fixed proper for your birthday. Just finished retiling it—needs a day to dry before you light it, though.”
Only then did I notice the hearth—transformed. The old, worn bricks were now smooth and clean, the mantle freshly restored.
“You did all this alone?” I whispered.
“Aye,” he chuckled. “Haven’t even had supper yet. Was about to grab my flask when you turned up…”
He packed his tools carefully, then pulled out a sandwich and thermos. He looked exhausted.
“There’s tea here, and sandwiches—ham and cheese. Fancy joining me? Last bus is gone anyway,” he offered suddenly.
I hesitated, then nodded. Why not? I hadn’t eaten either.
We sat at the kitchen table. The tea was hot, the sandwiches simple but perfect. There was something oddly comforting about sharing a quiet meal with a stranger.
“Suppose we can drop the formalities,” Edward said. “We’re not so far apart in age.”
“Alright,” I smiled, feeling an unexpected lightness.
When he drove me home later, I knew we’d meet again. And we did—the very next evening. Two weeks later, I invited him to my birthday, though I hadn’t the faintest idea how to explain him to the family.
“I’ll be the surprise!” he winked. “They’ll think we’ve never met.”
He arrived early in that same Land Rover. When Oliver brought everyone round, Edward played his part perfectly—greeted like a newcomer. I feigned shock, though my heart raced.
“And who’s this, then?” I asked, playing along.
“My mate Edward!” Oliver beamed. “He’s the one who sorted the fireplace. Top job, eh?”
“Lovely,” I said, meeting Edward’s eyes in a way I hadn’t looked at anyone in years.
After the guests left, we stayed behind. Edward pulled a small bunch of late asters from his pocket—picked from the roadside.
“Sorry it’s not much. Wanted to give you something, though.”
And suddenly, I understood—autumn wasn’t an ending. It could be a warm beginning. However unexpected, this Indian summer was the best thing that had happened to me in years.
I’ve loved asters ever since.
