I often think back to those days when I was Ruth Harper, a maths teacher from a quiet London suburb, and how my life became tangled with the Clarke family. It all began when Edward Clarke moved into the flat above mine, bringing his sevenyearold daughter, Emily, along.
Why are these numbers being cancelled out? Emily asked me one morning, hoping I hadnt forgotten the exercises wed practised over the weekend.
Because theyre the same, I answered.
Not a terrible answer, I praised her, tapping the textbook with confidence. Now, Emily, look again. If you multiply this part by that one youll get hold on aha, thats right, I said, pausing to find a simple comparison. Its like ordinary multiplication, just pulled out from under the root. It isnt any harder than counting sweets in Year 3.
Emily sprawled at the kitchen table, fiddling with her pencil. I always insisted on a quick review before school, while she begged for a few extra minutes of sleep. I usually won.
This isnt sweets, Ruth, she sighed. These are problems. Complicated.
Theres nothing complicated if you approach it the right way, I smiled, feeling a maternal protectiveness I had long kept under wraps. Lets try this Oh, were already running late.
Mornings always started with that routine. Edward, smoothing Emilys slightly tousled bangs, asked, Ruth, could you see Emily to school today? Im in a hurry.
Consider it done, I replied, slipping on my coat. Dont worry, Ill get her there in tiptop shape.
Thanks, Ruth.
Its no trouble at all.
I helped Emily pack her books into her backpack. I cared for Edward, I cared for Emily. Our little family was odd, but I didnt need anything else.
At the school gate, we ran into Yvonne Clarke, Edwards exwife, wrapped in a thin autumn coat, looking more irate than usual. She always seemed a bit out of touch with reality, at least to me.
Emily! she shouted sharply. You forgot your spare shoes at home and you have PE today! I brought a pair. Say thank you to whoever thought of you.
Emily, spotting her mother, said a quick goodbye to me, snatched the bag of trainers, and vanished into the school building without a word.
I was about to get back into my car when Yvonne suddenly warned, Dont you dare meddle with my daughter.
I frowned. Excuse me? Im not meddling, Im just
You teach her, you drive her around. Do you think youre now a second mother to her? How much hatred can one hold?
Yvonnes outburst was unexpected. She rarely voiced anything outright, but my presence seemed to irritate her.
Im not trying to replace anyone, I said calmly, refusing to be provoked. She spends a lot of time with us, I talk to her, I help with her maths, we shop together. Im not pretending she doesnt exist on the weekends.
Youre nothing but a nosy meddler who loves to stick her nose in other families! she spat.
The accusation was so absurd that I laughed out loud.
Is that the most absurd charge you could think of? When I met Edward, youd already been divorced for three years. And if I recall correctly, you left him for another man. Which family am I meddling in?
Yvonne was momentarily speechless. I gave her a gentle push away from the car, slipped into the drivers seat, and drove off to work. Her tirade served as my morning coffee.
Later that evening, as I polished my sturdy leather boots, Edward said, Ruth, we need to talk. Its not pleasant, but would you mind if Emily stayed with us for a while longer?
I raised an eyebrow. Shes already here quite often.
No, I mean permanently, or at least for an extended period.
I see no problem with that, if it helps Emily. But why? Did Yvonne agree to this? I asked, a hint of sarcasm in my tone.
He hesitated, then added, Theres a catch Yvonne is also moving in with us.
My boot clanged against the floor. What does your exwife want here? Are you suggesting were done and you want to live with her again?
He hurried, No! I cant stand her! I love you, Ruth! He lifted his boot, scrubbed it furiously, The man she ran off with left her a weeks notice to move out, and renting a flat in London is outrageously expensive.
Then let her go back to her parents! I exclaimed.
She lives far away. If she leaves, Emily would have to change schools, move towns, lose friends. Yvonne wont go without Emily. Our flat has three rooms; we could all fit.
Fit? All of us in one flat with Yvonne?
Are you joking?
It sounds wild, but I see no other way. We cant afford a separate flat for her, and if she goes back to her parents wed see each other only once a year. Emily doesnt want that.
I repeated Well fit in my head, unaware that my hand was smearing boot polish across the floor. And we did fit, though at a cost.
Yvonne, once inside, treated the place like a siege. Her belongings slowly claimed every surface.
Ruth, could you move this vase? It blocks my view of the telly, she said from the livingroom where she now slept.
The vase sat innocently on the coffee table, hardly in the way.
Its yours, Yvonne.
Just move it. I want to watch the news.
And you, what about your own rights?
Its my vase. I cant just touch your things without asking.
I shifted the vase carefully. Thanks.
Next came the curtains, ripped down while I was at the shop and tossed into a basket of laundry.
What did the curtains ever do to you? I asked.
They were light, the ones I chose. I want them back.
And now you dont mind Im touching your stuff?
I thought you wouldnt mind.
We chose those curtains together with Edward.
Then I dont like them, Yvonne snapped. Ill ask Edward to replace them tomorrow.
It was as if a domestic harem were forming under my roof. Yvonne restored the flat to the state it had been when she and Edward lived together. The pans were shuffled into the oven, spices moved to the top shelf because she rarely used them, and the washing machine, once run every two days, now only spun once a week in the name of saving water. I never understood how she saved anything when the machine rattled five or six times a day.
Ruth, Yvonne would appear unannounced, could you please put your perfume off the hallway table? I need space for my cosmetics.
Theyre not in the way, I replied.
They are. I live here and I should be comfortable.
This is my home too, I said, though Yvonne seemed deaf to it.
Youre nobody here, she retorted. This is my house, my man, my family. Youre just a side effect.
I relayed her words to Edward later.
Edward, when will you sort out housing for Yvonne and Emily? Im happy with Emily, but Yvonne called me nobody. Is that normal? Are you just pretending not to hear?
He tried to explain, Ruth, youve got it wrong. Yvonnes going through a rough patch, but she wouldnt say those things. Shes just nervous, maybe she blurted something out and you took it personally.
Nervous? She said it outright!
What do you want me to do? Throw her out?
Edward sided with his former wife.
Day by day, Edward spent more time with both Emily and Yvonne. They walked together, cracked jokes that left me baffled. I truly felt like an extra in their life.
Their idyll, if one could call it that, didnt last long. A petty argument sparked a fight. Edward placed a teacup wrong, and Yvonne could not forgive the slightest crime.
You know I hate it when you do that! she shrieked.
What did I do? Breathe wrong? Im just having tea!
Look, the tea is spilling, the tablecloth will have to be thrown away! And stop thumping the table when you set things down. My nerves arent made of steel.
Your nerves! You sound like an old hen.
And youre a slob who cant remember simple things!
I listened from the next room, the sound of a longmarried couples bickering echoing through the flat.
Everythings starting over, Emily whispered, Dad and Mum are together again, fighting again. It was nicer when they split
In that moment I realised I was no longer part of a family; I was merely a temporary guest who never quite fit into the newlyold, reknit household.
Edward finally faced the fact that their marriage was crumbling. He begged me to stay, but I knew it would lead nowhere.
When I packed my things one morning, Yvonne decided to launch a grand cleaning spree. She rearranged the books on the livingroom shelf purely for aesthetic pleasure, moving them away from the alphabetical order Id painstakingly maintained.
At first I wanted to protest, then remembered the flat was no longer mine. I joked, Planning to chase my spirit out with a deep clean?
Just love a tidy house, Yvonne replied, polishing another volume. It looked like a library dump.
Its just my system, so I can find a book quickly.
I look by the cover, thats how I like it. It looks better that way.
We could never coexist peacefully.
As I walked to my car, I saw Emily at the window, watching me go. For a heartbeat I thought she might chase after me, caught between two worlds.
Shall we move on? asked my brother, who had come to help with the move.
Yes, I said, lets get going, faster.
