Across the Courtyard – Part 1: The Window Opposite

For two years, Nadia and her neighbour had communicated entirely through the window. He waved when she came home. She waved back. On Sundays he put a mug on his windowsill, and she put one on hers, as if they were toasting something nobody had ever named.

She didn't know his name. She knew he played cello in the evenings and went running before dawn in a bright orange jacket. She knew he had once dropped an entire bag of shopping on the courtyard steps and then laughed at himself so hard he had to sit down on the wet stone.

She had never once knocked on his door.

Then the power went out.

It happened at seven on a freezing November night, all at once: the streetlights, the kitchen light, the heating, the flat's little hum of life. Nadia stood in her living room with a torch in one hand and a candle in the other and listened to her block go quiet around her.

Across the courtyard, a window flickered and then went dark, and a single candle appeared in its place.

He was standing in the window, face lit by the flame, looking across at her.

He raised a hand. She raised hers.

And then, to her complete surprise, he pointed at the door, and then at her, with a questioning look.

She laughed out loud, alone in her flat, and nodded.

Ravi was on her doorstep five minutes later, with a torch in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, wrapped in a scarf and looking slightly sheepish.

"I've been waving at you for two years," he said. "I think I should probably say hello."

"Hello," said Nadia. "I'm Nadia."

"Ravi." He held out the wine. "This is an apology for the cello. It sounds worse in person."

"I've always liked the cello."

"Liar," said Ravi, grinning. "You've been telling your cat to shut up for six months."

"I don't have a cat."

"Then who's been sitting in your window?"

"That," said Nadia, "is a very large cardboard box."

He laughed, delighted, and the sound made her chest feel warm and light. The candlelight from his flat spilled across the courtyard, golden on the wet stones.

"Come in," she said. "I'll open the wine. The power might be out for hours."

"Good," said Ravi. "I've been hoping for an excuse for two years."