Honestly, what took you so long? I thought youd either dozed off in the bath or you were busy hiding with your fancy man! boomed Bethanys voice, echoing up the communal stairs and setting off the neighbours spaniel into a chorus of unimpressed yelps.
Emily, standing at the door in her old dressing gown, could only sigh. It was ten oclock at night. Beth, her old schoolmate, whom she hadnt seen in over six months, had arrived at her threshold kitted out in an unzipped puffa jacket, clutching an absurdly large suitcase and two chubby Sainsburys bags. She looked less like a damsel in distress and more like a woman on a mission.
Hi, Beth. Come in. I was just in the showerI didnt hear the bell. Emily stepped back, waving her in.
The wheels on Beths suitcase rattled loudly over the wooden floor. Beth, in her usual way, filled Emilys narrow hallway not just with her presence, but with the tang of musky perfume and a draft of cool night air.
Thank goodness you let me in! Beth exclaimed, kicking her boots off without bothering with the zips, so they landed in a heap on the doormat. I was starting to think Id be spending the night at Waterloo. As for Steve, can you believe the cheek of the man? Accused me of spending too much! Me! Honestly, Im practically running a savings clinicthird year in this same coat. So I slammed the door and left him to stew. Ill crash here for a couple of days, until hes on his knees apologising, yeah?
Emily nodded, closing the door.
Make yourself at home. Theres space. Hungry?
What have you got? Beth demanded, marching straight into the kitchen, hands unwashed. I could eat a horse. Stress just does that, doesnt it?
Emily followed, glancing round at her pride and joyher flat, the sanctuary shed lovingly kept in order since her divorce three years ago. She liked everything in its place: mugs all facing the same way, towels colour-coded, no crumbs on the table. Watching Beth heave her shopping bags right onto the dining table, Emily felt her heart give the faintest wobble.
Um, Ive got a cottage cheese bake and a chicken salad. I can brew some green tea? she offered.
Beths nose wrinkled like shed bitten a lemon.
Em, you havent changed! Cottage cheese and salad she sighed melodramatically. Were supposed to drown our sorrows, not nibble on rabbit food! Thats why I brought proper stuffsalami, mature cheddar, mayo, fresh crusty bread. Lets make real sandwiches, yeah? Got any wine?
No, I havent. Work in the morning. You too, arent you working?
Ive called in sicka person needs a day off for emotional trauma! Anyway, tea will do. But make it black, strong and with sugar. I cant be doing with your green stuff. Gives me the shakes.
Wordlessly, Emily fetched the jar of Yorkshire Tea she kept for guests. By the time the kettle had boiled, Beth had managed to leave a trail: breadcrumbs all over the table, cheese wrappers stranded like flotsam, and had started excavating drawers.
Havent you got a decent knife? This is useless, only good for spreading butter! Beth huffed, waving Emilys treasured Japanese blade.
Thats a tomato knife, actually. Very sharp. Please be careful.
Dinner consisted of Beths one-woman rant on her useless husband and the unfairness of life in general. Emily merely nodded, topped up the tea, and quietly hoped for the moment she could tuck Beth up in the lounge and retreat to her own bed.
Suddenly, Beth glanced about the kitchen.
Whys it so empty in here, Em? No fridge magnets, or flowers on the window. Looks like an operating theatre. Bare as anything.
I like minimalism. Less dust, more space.
Bit grim, though. Every woman should feather her nest! Tomorrow, Ill show you how to brighten this lot up. I have an eye for it!
Emily tensed. Id rather you didnt. I like it the way it is.
Beth waved her off and stuffed another mayo-laden sandwich in her mouth.
Dont get your knickers in a twist; Im just trying to help.
Morning did not begin with an alarm, but the sound of running water and much clattering. Emily opened one eye and nearly screamed when she realised shed overslept by half an hour. She bolted from bed, grabbed her dressing gown, and raced to the bathroomonly to find it locked.
Beth! Are you going to be much longer? I need to get ready for work! she called, knocking.
Just rinsing my face mask off! came the muffled reply.
Just stretched into fifteen minutes. When the door finally opened, Beth appeared in Emilys best white bath towelkept for special occasionswith a makeshift turban on her head.
Ooh, that coffee scrub of yours is divine, Em! Skins all soft as velvet now. Had to use half the pot, mind. Never realised I had so much real estate to cover!
Emily surveyed the chaos: steamed-up mirror, puddles everywhere, toothpaste tube abandoned, her favourite moisturiser missing its lid. No time to scold. She dashed through her routine, dressed and rushed to the kitchen.
Beth was there already, frying eggs as if auditioning for a greasy spoon. Oil was splattering the tiles, her apron, and the floor.
Sit, eat! Youll need feeding before you run off, or youll faint at your desk.
I dont eat fried food in the morning, Beth. Thanks, but I need to dash.
Well! Try to be thoughtful Beth pouted. Leave me the key, will you? Ill nip to Tesco and get you in some decent grub. At the moment, your fridge is fit for a ghost.
Emily hesitated. Leaving Beth with the run of the place made her uneasy, but tossing her out onto the street did feel a bit harsh.
Heres the spare key. Please, Bethdont make a mess. And whatever you do, dont touch my stuff in the study. My paperworks in there.
As if Im interested in your tax returns! Go on, off you pop, workaholic.
Emily spent the day distracted at her desk, convinced disaster was brewing at home. Her hunch wasnt wrong.
By the time she returned, the stale scent of burnt onions mixed with bleach assaulted her in the corridor. She opened the door and froze. Someones enormous mens brogues sat in the hallway.
Oh, Ems back! Beth swept out from the living room, flushed and jolly. Were just having a cuppa. This is George, your charming neighbour from upstairs. He helped with my shopping, so I invited him round. Just being polite.
A friendly looking middle-aged bloke in a saggy jumper grinned at Emily from the kitchen.
Hello, neighbour. I hope you dont mindwere having some lush scones. Your friends an absolute marvel in the kitchen!
Emily peered into her sacred safe haven: potato skins all over the worktop, empty baked-bean tins on the counter, her precious saucepan bubbling away, the air thick with the stench of over-fried onions.
George was just leaving, Emily said, with an ice-cold smile.
He downed his tea and made a hasty exit.
Right you are! Thanks again, Beth. Pop round if you need any salt, matches, whatever
As the door closed, Emily turned on Beth.
Would you care to explain why there was a strange man in my kitchen?
Whats the fuss? Hes your neighbour, not an axe murderer! Lovely chap. We just chatted. Honestly, Em, you do look for problems! I made us stew, real proper chefs stuff. You barely eat. No wonder you look like a ghost.
Emily checked the saucepan. You made stew in my double-bottomed bain-marie?
Does it matter? Pots a pot! You are picky, arent you? Anyway, take a look at your sparkling bathroomI blitzed it top to bottom!
A chill went through Emily. She sprinted to the bathroom: pungent bleach fumes hit her instantly. The chrome taps were streaked with white marks; the acrylic tub, once pristine, looked distinctly tired.
What did you use? she asked, voice trembling.
Bleach, obviously! Found it stashed under the sink. That eco stuff you had was useless against grime. Now its proper sterilised.
Emily nearly wept. That bottle was only for the mop, never the expensive bath. Dousing acrylic with bleach bordered on criminal.
Beth, she breathed through gritted teeth, I appreciate your effort. But please, no more cleaning, no more cooking, and no guests. Justrelax. Watch some telly, have a nap. Please.
I only wanted to help! Beth sniffed. You slog at work all dayI thought hot dinner and a gleaming house would be nice. Shows how much you appreciate it! No wonder youre single, Em. Men like cosiness, a homely touch. Not military precision and a crumb-free existence
Enough! Emily snapped. Drop it. Im knackered and hungry. But not for stew.
She made herself a cheese sandwich and retreated to her room. The evening was thick with a sulky silence: Beth watched reality TV at full volume in the lounge, while Emily tried to focus on her book.
Saturday morning, Emily had dreamed of a lie-in and a gentle chat about when Beth might, perhaps, consider returning home. Instead, she was roused by the unmistakable sound of furniture being dragged.
Sprinting into the lounge, she was left speechless: the sofa had been shunted across the room, the armchair blocked the balcony, and the coffee table (with her dried flower vase) now sat squat in the middle of the rug.
Beth was giving the chest of drawers an almighty heave.
There you are! Help me shift this, would you? she puffed. Ive read all about feng shuiit was a disaster in here, apparently. Thats why your love lifes dead. Sofa should be against the window and the chest of drawers in the wealth zone.
Beth! What have you done?! Put everything back at once, youll scratch the floor!
Itll be fine. Just see how airy it is now! Much brighter. I took down those depressing curtains, too. Well get some jolly onesflorals, Im thinking.
Emilys blackout curtains, her only defence against the 5am sun, lay crumpled on the carpet. The curtain rod stuck out like a broken arm above the window.
This is too much! Emilys voice wobbled. Its my home, my furniture, my curtains. I didnt ask you to redecorate.
You just like staying in your rut. Im breathing new life into the place! George said it, toohe was by earlier to help shuffle a wardrobe. You really should thank me.
George came in? Again? When?
This morning, while you were out for the count. Popped in for salt, ended up shifting furniture. Strong as an ox, that man.
Something snapped inside Emilysome dwindling reserve of patience, perhaps. A stranger in her flat, while she slept in her pyjamas in the next roomBeth had turned her life upside down.
Beth, sit down, she said quietly, but in a tone that brooked no argument.
What nowgoing to lecture me about cushions?
I want you to pack your things. Now.
Beths eyes bulged.
Youre kicking me out? Onto the street? Over a sofa?
Not over a sofa. Over total disregard for me and for my home. I asked you not to cook, you did. I asked you not to move things, you did. You let strangers in. Youve behaved as if this was your own flat, and Im just in the way.
But I was only trying to help! Beth wobbled, now with tears in her eyes. I opened my heart! My marriage is in tatters and youyoure just selfish! Ice cold! You care more for mugs than people!
Maybe so, Emily said with a shrug. But theyre my mugs and my sofa. Youve got an hour.
I have nowhere to go! Beth flopped onto the offending settee, hiding her face.
With a world-weary sigh, Emily picked up her mobile and dialled.
Hi, Steve? Its Emily Yeah, Beths at mine. Right, about this supposed split up? Whats that? No, you havent fallen outbusiness trip? Thought so.
Beth, peeking through her fingers, suddenly looked like a child caught scrumping apples.
That settles it, then. Shell be back soon. Cheers, Steve.
Emily placed the phone down and fixed Beth with a look.
Steve got back from his trip last night. Was mighty confused you werent home. No rows, no split. You just fancied a holiday while he was away and decided to spice up my week as well. Am I right?
Beth sniffled, still clinging to her dignity.
Alright, so what? It was boring at home! Youre such a misery, I thought Id liven things up. Steve never notices me anyway. I justwanted some attention. And youve gone and ratted me out!
Pack up, Beth. Steves expecting you.
The next forty minutes were accompanied by the sound of angry zipping and muttered curses.
Thats how you find out who your friends are. Gone to the wall over a face cream. I came to you in good faith, and what do I get
Emily watched from the window, feeling neither guilt nor triumphjust aching exhaustion and a powerful urge to blitz her flat.
Finally, Beth, suitcase in tow, stood at the front door.
Enjoy your lonely little mausoleum! she scoffed on her way out. Boring as anything, you are, Em. Stick your blackout curtains back up and live in the dark!
The door closed. Emily locked it, twice for good measure, and leaned her forehead against the cool wood.
Silence. Blissful, precious silence.
She returned to the lounge, first pushing the sofa back, then the armchair. The chest of drawers was too heavy, but at least it wasnt in the way. She dug out her blackout curtains and re-hung them, feeling the familiar dimness settle like a hug.
On to the kitchen. The ghastly stew went straight down the loo. All of Beths proper foodgreasy meat, mayo, half a stale loafwas bagged and binned. Windows flung wide, she aired out the cloying stench of perfume and fried onions.
The bathroom took the longest. She scrubbed the taps, mourned the dulled tub, and promised herself a trip to B&Q for restorative polish. But, she thought, at least Im home.
By evening, Emilys flat finally felt herself again. She brewed fresh green tea, picked up her favourite book, and settled into her armchair. Her phone pingeda message from Beth:
Steve wants to know where his favourite mug wentthe one I gave you. I told him you smashed it. Youre welcome x.
Emily chuckled and blocked the number. There was never any mug; Beth had made the whole thing up. No matter.
She took a sip. The tea was deliciousbrisk, unsweetened. Silence soothed her. The neighbours spaniel barked and subsided. The clock ticked somewhere in the background. Emily realised shed never been so awareor so appreciativeof her own company and her own rules. Hospitality is a fine thing, she thought, right up until your guest starts thinking they have joint ownership.
She gazed fondly at her uncluttered table, her neatly stacked books, her slippers by the sofa.
My house, my rules, she declared. There was nothing mean-spirited or cold about it. It was simply a healthy desire to live her own life.
And Beth? Let Beth rearrange her own flats feng shuiif Steve lets her, that is.
