Guest

A blonde woman slept on Angelica’s sofa one night. Her face was tired, her freckles blotchy on her pale cheeks. Her hair was a mess around her shoulders, and she looked like a worm wrapped in blankets.

There was only one problem.

Angelica lived alone. No-one was supposed to be sleeping here.

In fact, she was in for quite the shock when she caught sight of the stranger on her sofa. She’d come down in her dressing gown to make morning coffee, not expecting to glance at the adjacent room and see someone else in her home. 

Regardless, she kept calm – even when the woman heard the floorboards creaking, prompting her to turn around. Her eyes were sleepy, but she looked terrified at being caught in such a position.

“I… uh…”

“Hello,” Angelica said warmly. “Are you comfortable?”

The stranger blinked, probably wondering how to read Angelica’s question. But Angelica wasn’t trying to be sarcastic, or threatening. What would be the point in that?

“Um…”

“My name’s Angelica. Angie’s fine, though. I’m guessing you got in through the patio doors? Those things are always blowing open in the night.”

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude!” the woman suddenly blurted out, her words a fast flurry that went by in seconds. “I’m homeless – the weather was freezing, I had nowhere to…”

“It’s all right, sweetheart.”

Angelica went to the kitchen counter, grabbing a tin that stood in the corner and approaching the sofa with it. The woman looked nervous for a moment, but appeared soothed by her host’s warm smile.

“Here.” Angelica removed the lid as she held out the tin. “These were my husband’s favourites. I hope you like them too.”

She looked taken aback, like she'd never seen a biscuit tin before. Angelica noticed her chapped lips, the thin, hunched shoulders. When she continued to hesitate, the older lady picked out a biscuit and offered it to her. 

“Please. I insist.”

Slowly, a smile – a grateful one – before the sleepy woman took the offering.