Emma, this is a disaster! Im out on the street! Literally standing there with my suitcases in the rain! Jennas voice crackled over the phone so sharply that Emma pulled the handset away, winced, and stared at the kitchen wall.
Emma was stirring a pot of shepherds pie, and the last thing she wanted was to untangle someone elses mess. It was a Friday night after a grueling workweek, and the weekend ahead promised quiet evenings with her husband, Ben. But Jenna, a mate from university, had a talent for turning a drizzle into a deluge and dragging everyone into the vortex.
Jenna, calm down, Emma said, turning the gas down. Whats happened? Its sunny outside.
Its a metaphor, Em! You always take things at face value! Jenna hiccuped. My landlord, that old dodder, announced hes selling the flat. He gave me three days to go! Can you believe it? I just paid for new wallpaper in the hallway! I shouted at him, slammed the door, and stormed out. Proudly! But now I have nowhere to go. Emma, let me crash at yours for a few days, alright? Ill sort something out. Please! Were friends!
Emma let out a heavy sigh, glanced at Ben, who was at the kitchen table peeling potatoes. Ben heard the raised voices over the line, shook his head, and gave a disapproving look. Hed never liked Jennas noisy, blunt style or the way she seemed to fill every empty corner.
Jenna, we only have two bedrooms, Emma began, trying to explain. And we were planning a bathroom remodel
I wont be a bother! Jenna interrupted. Ill be as quiet as a mouse, as low as a whisper. Ill just toss a mattress in the kitchen, get a few nights of sleep. You arent monsters, are you? You wont abandon a friend in need?
Emma knew Ben would be annoyed, but the sense of duty and the girls solidarity Jenna invoked tipped the scales.
Fine, she said, surrendering. Come over, but only for a couple of days. Seriously.
Youre an angel! A saint! Ill be there in an hour!
Emma hung up and looked guilty at Ben. Ben tossed the cleaned potatoes into a pot of water, splashing droplets onto the countertop.
Emma, you realize Jennas a couple of days is as elastic as a rubber band, dont you? he muttered. Last time she split from her husband, she lived with us for a week and drank my entire lager stash.
Ben, I cant leave her out there. Shes really in a bind. Lets be a bit tolerant. She promised to keep to herself.
Ben merely grunted, unwilling to argue.
Jenna arrived an hour and a half later. The promise of quiet was nowhere in sight. She knocked loudly on the door, persistent and demanding. When Emma opened it, Jenna drifted in, wreathed in heavy, sweet perfume, followed by a taxi driver hauling three massive suitcases and two duffel bags.
Phew, what a traffic jam! Jenna flung her shoes onto the rug, blocking the hallway. Hello, love! Ben, why are you just standing there? Help this lady pay; I only have large notes, and he has no change.
Ben, teeth clenched, stepped into the hallway, fished out his wallet, and settled the fare.
Jenna, you said a couple of days, Ben said, eyes fixed on the mountain of luggage that now dominated their modest entryway. It looks like youre gearing up for an Arctic expedition.
Oh, Ben, dont be such a bore! Jenna waved him off, marching past like she owned the place. Ive taken all my stuff. I wont leave anything for the enemy. Ill just stash it in the corner.
Dinner unfolded under a tense cloud. Jenna claimed the head of the table, a spot Ben usually occupied, and inspected Emmas shepherds pie with a critical eye.
Emma, did you put flour in the meat? she asked, spearing a bite with a fork. Thats so 1990s. Nowadays people thicken sauces with veg purée or leave them thin. This is pure carbs, will just go straight to the hips.
We like it with flour, Emma replied dryly. Its my grandmothers recipe.
Grandmothers Jenna drawled. Fine for a countryside cottage, but were city folk; we have to watch our cholesterol. Ben, you could use a trim too. Your bellys expanding.
Ben choked on his compote.
My stomachs fine, he cut in. Eat if you like. If not, leave it.
Oh, were so sensitive! Jenna laughed. Im just trying to help. Ill eat it, no waste. But next time, Emma, let me cook. I know some brilliant lowcalorie dishes.
Future cooking? Emma frowned. Youre only here for a couple of days.
While Im here. I cant just sit idle; I have to repay the hospitality.
After dinner, Jenna claimed the bathroom for an hour and a half. Ben, who liked a quick shower before bed, paced the hallway anxiously. The sound of water, the scent of scrub, and Jennas loud humming filled the flat.
Jenna! Ben finally knocked. Have some regard for others!
One second! Jenna replied, slathering a face mask. I need it to soak into the steamed skin. Five minutes!
Those five minutes stretched into twenty. When she finally emerged, the bathroom was a foggy mess, and Emmas neatly arranged toiletries were in disarray; a pricey face cream lay open, clearly tested.
Your waters awfully hard, Jenna said, drying her hair with Emmas towel. You need a filter. Tell Ben to sort it. No one should live without basic things.
Emma stayed silent, choosing not to fan the flames on the first night. She set up a spare sofa in the living room, hoping morning would bring clarity.
Morning, however, delivered fresh chaos.
Emma and Ben were jolted awake by the whirr of a blender at seven a.m. Saturdaythe one day they could finally sleep in. Emma slipped on a robe and padded to the kitchen.
Jenna, bright-eyed in a short silk nightdress, was whipping something in the kitchens food processor. The countertop was a battlefield of fruit skins, spilled oats, and grimy spoons.
Good morning, sunshine! she shouted over the motor. Im making a smoothie! Vitamin boost!
Jenna, its seven! Emma groaned. Were trying to rest. Bens exhausted from the week.
Early birds catch the worm! Jenna declared, switching off the blender. Stop dozing, lifes passing you by. Ive already done my yoga. By the way, Emma, your yoga mat is threadbare, and those kitchen curtains that floral pattern is downright tacky. I know a designer who can give you a minimalist makeover.
Jenna, Emma rubbed her temples as a headache throbbed, were happy with the curtains. And please tidy up after yourself. We usually have breakfast around ten.
Ten? Jenna gasped. Thatll kill your metabolism! Fine, Ill leave the smoothie for you. Try it, see what real food tastes like.
She poured a green liquid into Bens favourite mug the one emblazoned with Best Angler that he only used for tea and set it on the table.
The rest of the day unfolded under the banner improve your life. Jenna roamed the flat, rearranging knickknacks, flinging windows open for fresh air despite the chill, and critiquing everything from the sofa colour to the brand of washing powder.
Emma, why are you using that cheap detergent? she tutted, peering into the laundry room. It ruins fabric! You need an ecofriendly one with enzymes. Ill text you the name.
Im fine with my detergent, Emma snapped, patience fraying. Are you looking for a new flat?
Of course! Jenna rolled her eyes dramatically. Ive been on the phone all morning. Prices are astronomical! I cant live in a pigsty; Im an aesthetic soul. Your place is decent, but that middleclass cosy vibe needs a lift. Ill find something, dont push me.
That evening, Ben settled down to watch football, when Jenna plonked herself beside him, snatching the remote.
Ben, whats football? Rich blokes kicking a ball around. Lets watch Psychic Showdown the finals on tonight!
Ive been waiting for this match all week! Ben roared, standing up. Hand back the remote!
How rude! Jenna pouted. A gentleman never raises his voice at a lady. Emma, tell him! Hes gone soft.
Emma, trying to read in an armchair, slammed her book shut.
Jenna, give Ben the remote. Hes the host here and wants his football.
Fine! Jenna flung the remote onto the sofa. Enjoy your degeneration. Im off to call my mum on video chat.
From the kitchen, Jennas voice boomed, detailing to her mother how Ben was a tyrant and Emma a patient saint who endured everything. The thin walls of the terraced house carried every word.
Ben turned crimson. Emma pretended not to hear, but a storm brewed inside her.
Days passed. Jenna never left. The suitcases remained in the hallway, though two of them had been emptied into the guest closet and onto the back of chairs. By Tuesday, Emma came home early from work, nursing a throbbing toothache and yearning for silence, a painkiller, and an hour of sleep.
She turned the key in the lock and froze.
Blasting music filled the flat an exotic mantra accompanied by the heavy scent of incense, sandalwood that always made Emma nauseous. The curtains shed spent weeks choosing were gone; the windows stood bare.
In the centre of the living room, on the rug, Jenna sat in a lotus pose. Beside her was a bearded stranger in linen trousers, humming a low om.
Omm the man intoned.
Omm Jenna echoed.
Emma dropped her bag; the thud made the yogis flinch.
Emma! Jenna cheered, unfazed. Meet Arlo, my energy guru. Were cleansing the aura of your flat. Theres so much negativity, its terrifying! Especially in the corners.
Where are my curtains? Emma whispered, pain thudding in sync with the music.
Curtains? Oh, those dustcatchers! Jenna waved a hand. We removed them. They blocked the flow of Qi, which should enter through the window. Arlo said dark fabrics attract illness and poverty. I tossed them in the wash and will sell them on eBay, then replace them with light organza. Itll be bright and pure!
You you removed my curtains? And youve brought a stranger into my home while Im out? Emmas voice trembled.
Arlo isnt a stranger; hes a spiritual mentor! Jenna snapped. You should thank me. Were doing this for free; usually a session costs five thousand pounds.
Emma felt the last thread of her patience snap.
Get out! she shouted, and Arlo stumbled off the rug. Both of you, now! If you dont leave in five minutes, Ill call the police!
Emma, are you having a panic attack? Jenna tried to rise, eyes wide. Its just a blocked chakra! Arlo, give her a hand
If he comes near me, Ill call the cops! Emma roared, flinging the window open to let the incense fumes out. Jenna, pack your things. Your few days are over.
Youre kicking me out? Jennas voice cracked, tears threatening. Over some curtains?
Not over curtains. Over you being a brute, insulting my husband, critiquing my home, and bringing a random man in. You stole the curtains I love. You called me patient to my mother. I heard everything.
Jennas cheeks flushed, then she went on the offensive.
Oh, you were eavesdropping! How low! I thought you were decent, but you Fine, Ill leave. I cant stay in this negative energy house! Arlo, help me pack; were moving to a brighter place!
Arlo, clearly not prepared for a fight, nodded weakly.
Packing took twenty minutes. Jenna tossed items into suitcases, wailing about ingratitude and selfishness.
I gave my heart! I wanted the best for her! I opened her eyes to her miserable life! And she Always the same do good, get a slap in the face!
Emma stood in the hallway, arms crossed, watching Jennas frantic shoving, making sure no souvenir was snuck away for energy balancing.
When the last suitcase hit the threshold, Jenna turned, chin lifted, eyes blazing with selfrighteous fury.
Youll regret this, Emma! Youve lost the only true friend who ever told you the truth. Stay with your Ben and your flourladen shepherds pie! Degenerate forever!
Goodbye, Jenna, Emma said calmly. Put the keys on the side table.
Jenna flung the keys onto the floor; they clanged against the tiles.
Get lost! she spat, marching toward the lift. Arlo, struggling with two heavy suitcases, followed, casting a wary glance at Emma.
Emma locked the door, turned both bolts, and slipped a chain over the latch. Silence settled like dust.
She sank to the floor, covering her face with her hands. The toothache throbbed, but a weight lifted from her chest as if a tight corset had finally been removed.
That evening Ben returned, hesitantly opening the front door, expecting another lecture on fried food or incense. Instead, the flat smelled of fresh air and roasted potatoes with mushrooms.
He entered the lounge. The curtains were gone, but Emma had hung temporary blinds shed found in the attic. She was curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, watching a comedy.
Where? Ben whispered, glancing around. Wheres the Jenna storm?
The storm sailed off toward the sea, Emma smiled, patting the cushion beside her. Forever.
She left on her own? Ben frowned.
I sent her packing. She tried to cleanse our aura by yanking the curtains. That was the last straw.
Ben wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head.
Youre my heroine. I thought Id have to fight her off myself, and I feared youd side with her.
I wont. Emma pressed closer. Ive learned one thing, Ben. A guest respects the host. Someone who imposes their rules in anothers house is an invader. And with invaders, the conversation is short.
Well buy new curtains, Ben said. Better than the old ones.
Absolutely. But first, lets have dinner. Proper, greasy potatoes. And tea from those bags.
With pleasure, Ben laughed. Thank heavens for home!
They ate straight from the pan, chuckling, savoring the peace. Emmas phone buzzed a few times with angry messages from Jenna curses and predictions of divorce but Emma simply hit block.
Jenna never resurfaced in their lives. Rumour had it shed found another friend somewhere across town, but Emma didnt care. She had her own rules, her own cosy world, and she wasnt about to let anyone rewrite them.
