Once, many years ago, a young woman named Lily sat at the kitchen table with her mother, Margaret, in their modest London flat on New Years Eve. The muted hum of the city drifted in through the frosted windows, punctuated now and then by the distant pop and crackle of fireworks. The Christmas tree stood in the corner, its baubles glimmering in the soft golden glow of the fairy lights, and a handful of presents nestled beneath its branches in shiny paper.
Now, what shall I wish for you in the New Year, my love? her mother mused, stirring her tea. Good health, of course. Andmay the New Year send you a fine young man at last.
Lily rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. Mum, you say that every year, she teased, waving a hand in gentle protest.
They hadnt bothered to dress up for the celebration. What was the point? It was just the two of them, as always. Still, theyd prepared a veritable feastroast chicken, pork pies, crisps, and the usual assortment of trifle and nibbly bits. You cook and fuss, Margaret would say, then sit down to eat and wonder who its all for. Well, for themselves, really. Lily always complained about her figure but allowed herself an extra serving of trifle just the same. After all, it was New Years Eve.
All up and down the towering estate block, you could see the lights: twinkling garlands in the windows, silhouettes moving across living room walls, the pale blue glow of tellys, and some flats in darknessmaybe away with friends, or simply not in the mood this year. At midnight, each family celebrated their own way, separate but together.
Lily and her mother kept it simplejust as they always had. Margaret returned to her earlier wish, Well, health, always. And that good man to come knock on your door.
Mum! Lily repeated, sighing with a smirk.
Her mother squeezed her hand. A mothers wishes are the strongest. Itll happen, just when the time is right.
Lily forked herself some more stuffed mushrooms and wondered, not for the first time, which was more powerful: her own secret wish as the clock struck twelve or her mothers hopes. In truth, shed wished for exactly the same thing this very evening.
Shed lost count of how many years shed asked for it.
Perhaps it was all nonsensethese New Years wishes. If wishes came true, wouldnt everyone be a little merrier? Someone, somewhere, wished for a Mercedes, another for a lower mortgage rate, another for a fishing rod. Some dreamed of weddings, some for healthy babies, others to finally move out. And of course, many simply prayed for health.
So much hope, not enough magic.
But Lily longed simply to meet the oneher Mr Right. And for all the New Years gone by, she was still waiting.
Her mothers words drifted back: Just not your time yet. Except Lily wasnt so sure. She was twenty-seven now. Her old schoolmates son had just started year two. Sometimes it all felt a bit muchespecially another New Years Eve spent like this. They hadnt even bothered to change into fresh dresses. They sat, picked at their food, watched the telly, trotted out the same old toasts, and knew what the other would say next. Soon, theyd exchange their little gifts, and Margaret would shuffle off to bed, leaving Lily alone with her thoughts, the flickering telly, and a house more silent than festive.
As you see in the New Year, so it goes! she thought drily.
Lets watch the fireworks, Mum, Lily suggested.
You go brave the cold, dear. Ill look from the window, thats just as fine. People spend all that money on fireworks Margaret tutted.
Lily shrugged on her coat and stepped onto their tiny eighth-floor balcony. The bites of winter stung her face as she watched the kids down below with their paper hats and noisemakers, tangled with laughter and commotion. Further off, fireworks splashed colour across the darkness. There was music, giggles, and the faint scent of pine and cold air, but everyone seemed largely wrapped up in their own affairs.
Back inside, Lilys mother shared a memory. Oh, when we lived in the old house, wed all be out in the streeteveryone together! Music, dancing, someone always played the accordion. That was a New Years Eve. Proper festive spirit. Not like this.
New Years night ticked onward, quietly. Margaret turned in early, her footsteps soft as she made her way to her room, leaving Lily to tidy the plates. She lingered over a handful of tangerines and, as the household slipped into deeper silence, the only noise was the muted applause and canned laughter from the telly.
It was nearly three in the morning when she finally began carrying dishes from the lounge to the kitchen. Suddenly, a gentle knock came from the door.
Peering through the spyhole, Lily saw a man in a white shirt shivering outside.
Who is it? she called out softly.
Its meSimon. He looked anxious, nearly pressing his nose to the wood.
Simon who?
He moved closer, uncertain. Sorry Did I see in the New Year here? No?
No, you didnt, she answered firmly. The last thing she needed was a drunken fool.
Sorry! he called out, sounding embarrassed rather than drunk. Lily watched as he knocked on a neighbours door, got rebuffed, then hovered by the wall, arms hugging his chest to stay warm before wandering up the stairs.
Honestly, Lily muttered. People should lay off the drink.
Still, curiosity bit at her. She kept peeking through the peephole, ears pricked for any noise. How could someone lose track of the right flat? Had he nipped out for a smoke and got locked out? Perhaps hed come back to friends whod left already?
On the next trip, she gave in to her inquisitiveness. She left her slippers at the door and padded softly up the stairs. Halfway up, she spotted himsitting, pale and frozen, on the landing between the twelfth and thirteenth floors.
Excuse mehavent found your flat yet?
He startled, huddled tighter in his thin shirt. No, I havent
Who are you looking for?
Honestly, I dont know their surname. My mate invited meit was his colleagues who live here. I didnt think to ask for details. I popped down to help someone with their bits out to the car, only meant to be a minute. Didnt even grab my coat! By the time I looked up, everyone had gone
He gave a helpless little laugh and looked away. And now I cant remember the flat number, or even the right floor. Might not even be the right stairwell.
So call your friend, Lily offered.
My phones in my bag, under a load of coats. Cant for the life of me remember their number
He chuckled darkly, rubbing his arms against the cold. The only number I can recall is my mums, but shes miles away, up in Yorkshire.
It was hard to leave him sitting there, desperate and frozen, especially as he had nothing remotely threatening about him. He was tall, seemed kind, with gentle blue eyes and a slightly sheepish grin.
All rightcome in, at least warm yourself, she said finally.
As he stepped inside, he eyed the array of half-cleared bowls warily.
Sorry to intrude. May I? he nodded to the food.
Yes, of courseyou must be starving. As she put on the kettle, another idea occurred. Do you remember your own mobile number?
Oh! he suddenly brightened. Lily dialled the number, but no tone rang. Dead as a doornail. Forgotten to charge it, I bet. Its buried somewhere at the party, in my bag.
He ate with gusto, grateful for the spread.
How many rooms did the party flat have? she asked, pondering possibilities.
Three, I think. Yesdefinitely three. He munched a piece of pork pie thoughtfully.
Great. That narrows it down! In our block, with this layout, only about sixteen flats fit that bill. Unless youre in the wrong block entirely…
He apologised again. Look, I realise this all sounds daft. Had a few too many, then tried to be helpfulyou see how that turned out. If only I had cash for a cab or could ring a locksmith. But even my keys are in that wretched bag He shrugged helplessly.
Lily scanned her brain for a solution. The best outcome was for him to find the right flatsurely someone would recognise him. Hang on, weve got a group chat for the building. Not on my phone, but Mums got it. Maybe one of your friends will see.
You live with your mother? he asked, surprised.
Yes, just the two of us.
Id assumed you had a husband or kids. I was half-expecting a burly chap to come out and frown at me.
No, no husband. What about you? Isnt there someone wondering where youve got to?
Lost my wife as wellfour years ago now. We parted kindly. Im just renting here for now, he smiled, finally thawed by the hot tea.
Right, Simon, you sit tight. Ill grab Mums phone.
Margaret stirred as Lily entered her room, but the younger woman reassured her. Just tidying up, Mum. Go back to sleep. Phone in hand, Lily returned to the kitchen to find Simon washing up. They moved to the lounge and joined forces clearing away the remains.
She scrolled through the group chat. Silence. Nobody had even wished each other Happy New Year.
What should I write? she wondered aloud.
Simon, eyeing a framed photo of Lily on the wall, grinned. Youre beautiful, you know.
She blushed. But, really, how do we put this in the chat?
Ideas tumbled outmore ridiculous with each passing minute. They giggled, hands flying over the keypad, passing the phone back and forth, trying out various messages. Eventually, and quite by accident, Lily hit Send on this:
Happy New Year, everyone! A young man called Simon, 29, has lost the flat where he was celebrating. He cant find his friends or his way home. Please help him if you can!
Oh, I sent it! I sent it! she wailed, mortified.
Simon looked at the phone, eyes wide. Too latereplies started to pour in.
Simon! Thats flat 42, sixth floor, second blockcome join our girls night in. Were in desperate need of a Simon!
Passing this to the main chat. Hold tight, Simon!
Simon, bring a bottle? If youve got vodka, come to 66!
Im all alone, feeling terribly sad. Fancy some champagne, Simon?
Absolute chaos. Someones singing in the liftI cant sleep. Invite me next year, will you?
Simon, love, come down to no. 9. You can warm up with meAuntie Dorris.
Happy New Year to all! Looking for Simon outside. Come join uswe can help you find your party!
People started to gather outside, calling up to the balconies. Simon, come down!
Lily grinned in disbelief as neighbours flocked to the courtyard, some in slippers and nightgowns, children in tow, music pulsing from portable speakers. A jovial woman in a tinsel crown grinned at Lily and Simon as they stepped out, now bundled in Margarets big green coat.
You helping poor Simon? she laughed.
Im the lost Simon, in the flesh, he replied, embarrassed but warmed by the fuss.
In no time, Simon was swept up into this ragtag New Years gathering. Champagne corks popped, children ran underfoot, and music drifted through the cold winter air. Even Father Christmas made an appearance amongst the crowd. Strangers became friends as the entire block united to rescue lost Simon.
After a short while, a young man called Victor burst through the throng. Simon! There you are!
The crowd whooped and cheered, thankful to see Simon reunited. Hed indeed mixed up the block and spent the evening trying doors in the wrong stairwell.
Lily smiled at the sceneSimon switching out her mothers coat for his own, him seeking her in the crowd. She returned his coat, but was carried away with the crowd before they could exchange more than a look. He was pressed into dances, handshakes, and toasts.
Eventually, as the night ebbed away, Lily drifted upstairs. She deleted the chat messages from Margarets phone so her mother wouldnt worry, replaced the handset, and peered once more off the balcony at the receding party below.
Her mother joined her, bundled in a tartan blanket. You nipped out, love?
Just to see the fun, Mum. Looks like a proper knees-up down there. Like the old days.
People just needed a little push, Lily thoughta reason to come together.
*
On the morning of the 1st, Lily slept till nearly noon. Margaret was getting ready to visit a frienda yearly traditiondabbling in lipstick and fussing with her scarf, while Lily lent a hand with her outfit. The next day, Lily made the journey to her university friend Victorias semi-built house just outside the city, where Victoria, her husband, and two little ones lived. There, Lily found a small Father Christmas doll in the bin.
Whys Santa gone in the rubbish?
Victoria blinked. I have no ideaI thought he was under the tree?
Her eldest piped up, Milly threw him away! She didnt like himhe made her cry at the party.
Turns out, two-year-old Milly was frightened at her first Christmas party by the real Father Christmas, and, cross upon returning home, chucked the toy one into the rubbish to take her revenge.
After an exhausting but lively visit, Lily returned home, just a tad envious of Victorias bustling family. She and Margaret sprawled together on the sofa to catch an afternoon film, half-watching as messages buzzed on Margarets phone.
Oh, what now! Margaret grumbled. The group never stops these days.
Theyre still wishing Happy New Year? Lily yawned.
No, no, something else. Theyre all in a flutter looking for some mysterious young woman. Simon is beside himselfpoor soulit says he lost her on New Years night
Film on in the background, Margaret went on. Whoever she is, hope she turns up soon! Its like a soap opera, this building.
Lily sat bolt upright, her heart racing. She scrolled through the chat, reading:
Good neighbours! Simon, who lost his friends, is now searching for the wonderful young woman who rescued him and whom he fancies very much. She lives with her mother, in a three-bed, right floor, facing the garden. Brown hair, pretty as a picture. Help Simon find her, everybody!
Replies flooded the threadsome piecing together his original (now vanished) message, some wildly guessing which flat she lived in, others just happily joking that perhaps shed left a glass slipper behind.
Lily whispered to herself, I think I think theyre looking for me.
Oblivious, Margaret was transfixed on the screen. Who, darling? Honestly. The films nearly over
Lily made her escape with her phone, checked her call log for Simons number, and called.
He answered at once. Hello?
Hi SimonLily here.
A sigh of relief. You! I was about to knock on every door myself. This buildings bewitched, I swear!
He laughed, a note of hope in his voice. So, whats your name, my mysterious saviour?
Lily.
Happy New Year, Lily! And just so you know, Im not going to lose you again. Im coming over.
To see me?
To see you. And, perhaps, to put an end to this wild goose chase in your buildings chat once and for all.
She smiled. Maybe you ought to let them keep huntingits brought everyone together for once.
They laughed together, quietly, each acutely aware that it had taken a bit of wishing, a little luck, an entire buildings goodwill, and a dash of New Years magic to bring them to this moment.
Margaret wandered in, film over. Did you see the end, love? Everything worked out in the endhow lovely.
Lily hugged her close. Mum, I think your wish for me this New Year is starting to come true already.
That so? Well, what did I say? A mothers wishes are the strongest.
And who can say what made it happen? Perhaps it was Lilys wish at midnight, her mothers heartfelt hopeor simply that, at the turn of the year, miracles seem just a touch more possible.
After all, New Years Eve is a time for dreamsand sometimes they do come true.
