The Uninvited Guest

28October2025 London

Im exhausted, clutching the grocery bags like a lifeline after the longest day of endless meetings. Finally home, I thought Id take a stroll, but the idea of getting into my car after work was far too tempting. The walk turned into a slow, wobbling shuffle back to my flat on the third floor, number17. Tomorrow Ill take a taxi because the car is still at the office, and I have no desire to drive tonight.

I fumble with the key in the lock, turning it repeatedly, but the door refuses to budge. I pull the handlenothing. Bloody hell, I mutter, hanging onto the cold metal, Did I get the right floor?

My mind drifts: could I be trying to break into someone elses flat? I count the stairwellsfirst, second, thirdyes, Im on my level. So it cant be a simple mixup. Perhaps someones locked themselves in? My husband James should be at work until late; we never agreed hed be home early. A sudden knot of worry tightens in my chesthas something happened to him? But James always tells me if his plans change; hed have called.

I try his mobile, no answer. Im back at the stubborn door, knocking louder and louder. Open up! I shout, halflaughing at the absurdity. Whos in there? Ill call the police if you dont answer! The muffled sounds from inside suggest someone is moving, but the door stays shut.

Just as Im about to dial 999, the door swings wide. In the doorway stands a tiny figure, almost angelic, with oversized animestyle eyes, snowwhite hair down to her waist, and a pout that could have been lifted straight from a popsong lyric. For a split second Im speechless.

Her voice cuts through my shock: Lady, stop trying to break down someone elses door, you dont live here any more. Pack your bags, get out of here now. She glares at me with a haughty tilt of her chin.

What? I gasp.

Move it! she snaps.

At work Ive always told myself to stay calmalways polite, always detached. That rule has guided me with colleagues, bosses, partners. Tonight, however, the rule feels absurd. In a flash I yank the girl by the hair, despite her shrieks, and drag her inside.

Youwhat are you doing? she yells, trying to wriggle free. Let me go! Im pregnant!

I ignore her cries, glance around, and notice a halfunpacked suitcase at the end of the hallway, propped against the living room wall. I release her, and she lunges at me with a heavy bronze candlestick, which I dodge just in time.

Sit down! I bark, grabbing her hair again and pulling her onto a kitchen chair. Now that we know whos in charge, youll answer my questions. Only when I ask.

She protests, but I wait for the inevitable fatigue to settle over her, then ask, Who are you?

She shakes her head, brushes hair from her face, and hisses, Im Milly! And Im going to be Jamess wife! The words hit me like a hammer. The lock wasnt forced, theres no theftsomeone must have let her in. By whom, I wonder.

I smirk, James isnt he already my husband? Did you mix something up?

Milly snaps back, trying to regain composure, I didnt mix anything up! James loves me. Hes filing for divorce. He says you dont understand him at all! And Im carrying his child! Her voice crescendos, making my head throb. Well live here, so I demand you leave his flat immediately!

I lean against the doorframe, watching this ridiculous tableau. Yesterday everything seemed fine with James; now this woman with a suitcase and a claim of pregnancy storms in.

What did James ever tell you about why he married me? I ask, my tone icecold.

Milly doesnt answer directly. He said it was a mistake! He thinks Im coldhearted. He needs someone who gets his soul! she declares.

I raise an eyebrow, So he expects me to understand his soul, after nine years of swearing eternal love? I press, And how long have you known each other?

Six months, Milly concedes, trying to sound calm. You cant understand, but he loves me. He writes me poems, takes me to restaurantsno ones ever courted me like that.

I grin, Right, because James is such a poet. Hes more like a security guard than a Romeo. I wonder if maybe hes hidden a creative side.

Honestly, I continue, Im not here to ruin your happiness, but half the property is mine, so lets talk about how you got a key to our flat.

Milly looks taken aback. He just gave them to me, she replies.

The absurdity of it all makes my mind crystal clear. I need to know how an impostor got hold of our keys. I turn to James, whos finally appeared, looking bewildered.

Rose? What are you doing up so early? he asks, seeing me in the hallway.

I shrug, I thought Id surprise you, maybe cook dinner. Turned out we have guests, I say, forcing a smile that doesnt quite reach my eyes.

James frowns, then notices Milly on the chair, hair disheveled, eyes narrowed.

Whos this? he asks cautiously.

This is your new wife and the mother of your future child, I retort, watching his reaction.

He stammers, Ive never seen her before.

I circle him, I expected denial, or some it was a mistake, I only love you line, but youve outdone yourself. How charming, darling.

He attempts to apologize, but I cut him off, Its disgraceful not to acknowledge your pregnant girlfriend. How will you look your child in the eye? And why didnt you tell her the flat is shared? Trying to impress, I see.

Milly suddenly blurts, I dont even know you! I shout, Enough of this circus! Your lies wont help. Tell me how you got those keys and what James promised you.

She freezes, then whispers, He promised… but not him. It was someone else.

I demand clarity, Someone else? Who?

She admits she met a man in a bar who called himself James. They dated, went to restaurants, he drove her home in his car. Lately he seemed to lose interest, and she took drastic steps.

So you came here convinced this was your fiancés home? I ask.

Yes, she murmurs.

And you thought you could just take over our flat? I add.

I hoped hed keep his promise, Milly says, tears welling. I thought if I showed up and forced the issue, hed have no choice but to divorce and marry me. But this isnt his flat, is it?

Im lost. Whose flat is it?

Jamess, she says, my James. He brought me here.

Do you visit often? I press.

Not much, but enough, she replies.

I announce, Im calling the police. Either we have an absurd twist of fate, or you both are master liars.

The room falls silent. I glance at James, whose face tightens.

James, whats going on? I ask, eyes narrowed.

He sighs, I gave a spare set of keys to my brother Fred. He needed the car in case we were away, and I thought he might need a place to stay for a week while were off to Greece.

My mouth drops. Thats why everything felt out of place. Did you think hed break into our home?

He didnthe just asked, James stammers. I didnt expect him to bring anyone in.

I stare at him, disbelief curling my lips. So you let your brother pretend to be you, using our keys, and bring strangers here?

He shrugs helplessly. He just wanted a bit of fun, I guess.

I grin, Fun, right. Lets call Fred over and sort this out.

Soon Fred arrives, a hulking bloke in a flat cap, looking surprised when he sees Milly. I confront him, You pretended to be James and let this girl into our flat?

He tries to laugh it off, Just a harmless joke, mate. A bit of adrenaline, you know?

I raise an eyebrow, A joke? Lets see how you like this: shes pregnant with your child. I watch his face turn pale.

Did you give her the keys? I ask.

Fred swallows, No, she made a copy herself. I just helped her move in.

Milly, now silent, finally speaks, I wasnt part of this. I just wanted James to keep his promise.

I step back, letting the absurd drama settle. Fred, youll stay here until the police sort this mess, or you can leave on your own, I say.

Fred, humbled, exits, muttering about bad decisions. I turn to James, who looks genuinely shocked.

Why would you hand the spare keys to anyone? I ask.

He looks down, I just wanted to help my brother. I didnt think it would end up like this.

I shake my head, You nearly turned my home into a circus. Im sorry, but Im starving.

James offers, Ill make dinner.

I sigh, Fine. Just no more surprises.