He slipped the key into the lock, but the flat behind the door wasnt his. Inside, strangers lounged on the sofa, a child was fiddling with a toy, and everything looked unfamiliar.
Excuse me, who are you? Harry asked, eyes wide at the new tenants.
They only noticed him when he spoke. A man and his wife threw their tablets and phones aside and lunged into the hallway, ready to push him out.
This is our flat, youre not welcomepolice will be called! the woman shouted.
Police? I live here! Harry protested.
Youve got the wrong door, lad, she retorted. Or did you actually misread the flat number?
—
Friday night. Emma was peeling cold chips, wondering if Harry would finally show up again. She was tired of his disappearing acts. She glanced at the colourful box on the shelf a tiny present shed bought herself, because no one else would. Emma, hair down in loose waves, leaned over her phone.
Hey, Harry! Where are you? Its almost seven, she reminded the boyfriend who usually clocked out at four. If he still had a job at all; he liked quitting every month, or getting sacked.
Emma was always the one to put up with him.
Whoa, seven already bored? Ill be late, stuck with the gang, Harrys voice chirped over the roar of a Friday night pub. Ill call you later, okay?
With the gang? Right Ill be eating alone then.
No, dont be like that. Ill try, he said, and the line went dead.
Ill try, Emma muttered to herself, watching the clock.
She sat there a little longer.
It was past half past seven. She knew that Ill try from Harry usually meant no promises. He never promised anything. He arrived when he felt like it, left when the mood struck him.
Four years. Four years together, a rollercoaster of feverish highs when Harry was attentive and loving, and dizzy drops when he vanished without a word, leaving Emma sobbing in a corner. Sometimes he walked out after a fight, sometimes he just didnt turn up for work, sometimes he disappeared on weekends. To him it was a trivial matter Ill have a night out, Ill apologise later. To Emma it was a sea of tears.
But today was supposed to be her birthday.
And Harry was, of course, late again.
Eight, nine, ten the numbers on the clock seemed to mock her. Emma had managed to wash the dishes, fold the laundry, and even cue up that ancient movie they used to watch together. Those cosy evenings were now relics.
Dinner was shifted from the table to the fridge. Clean dishes went back on the shelf.
At about eleven the phone rang again. Emma didnt feel like arguing with Harry, but it wasnt him. It was Charlie, his best mate.
Emma? You home? he panted. Wheres Harry?
Were home. Why are you calling? Emma replied.
Harrys in A&E. We crashed on a bend. Theyre not saying much, but we need to get you there. Charlie sounded breathless, as if hed just run a marathon.
Emmas world froze. The festive table, the halfdrunk tea, the silent film all dissolved into a thick fog of dread.
A&E? How serious? she asked.
Dont know, love. The doctors were vague. Im fine, just waiting by the window. Ill text you the address.
Half an hour later Emma, fists clenched and teeth bitten, was in a cab screaming towards the city hospital. Harry, that perpetual fruitcake, had ditched her on her birthday, but if he died today how would she survive?
She didnt see Charlie at the reception, despite his promise to wait. She staggered down corridors, feeling faint, hunting for any sign of direction. Then she heard it a boisterous laugh echoing down the wing.
She quickened, almost ran.
There they were Harry and Charlie, perched on plastic chairs outside a ward, clutching their bellies, roaring with laughter. Harry was alive, eyes sparkling with that maddening mischief Emma knew all too well.
Emma! You made it! Harry wiped away tears, leaping up. Got you, didnt we? What a prank! Youre so gullible.
If this were a real prison sentence Id send you straight to A&E, Emma muttered, voice flat.
Prank, she repeated, echoing her own emptiness.
Of course a prank. Who else would drive a taxi after a night out? Youre holding back, thinking wed just let you off on your birthday? Charlie thought it was brilliant! Harry tried to hug her, but she shoved him away. A birthday prank is the height of generosity, Emma.
Emma slung her bag over her shoulder. I Im leaving.
Where to? We were going to celebrate! Harry pleaded. Come on, lets have a proper night out. Did someone actually call you?
You didnt invite me to celebrate Harry sniffed.
Come on, youd be a fool to go, he said.
Im going, Emma said, firmer now. They didnt argue further. It was easier to celebrate without her.
Back home she slipped off her coat, revealing her houseslippers, and shuffled to the kitchen in the dark. The fridge held food, but she had no appetite. She perched at the table, watching the clock tick, still in shock.
An hour later Harry drifted back in.
Emma, what? Its just a joke! he said, plopping down on another chair, reaching for her again.
Joke, she repeated, Im tired of your jokes.
Harry waved a chocolate bar in front of her. Look, peace offering. Im young, I want to have fun, not sit at home. Im not the one whos wrong here.
He hadnt even asked her to join him.
Im not holding you back, Harry, Emma said, standing, but I think Ill go out somewhere else. Ill just head out now. She eyed her pajamas. Thats exactly what Ill do.
Where to? his tone mixed curiosity with irritation.
Anywhere, just not with you. She hoped hed feel guilty, but his reply was, As you wish, Your Highness. Ill go see Charlie then.
—
Three days passed. No calls from Harry, no calls from her. Emma kept herself busy, trying not to think about him, but his absence echoed in every empty corner of the flat the vacant chair at the table, his halfread book on the nightstand, his favourite mug still in the dishwasher.
On the fourth evening, while Emma was relieving stress by painting a numberedcanvas, a knock sounded. Harry burst in, a flamboyant bouquet of soft pink roses in hand.
Hey, he said, I brought them. You like pink, right?
Emma stared silently, not taking the flowers.
I know youre angry, Harry continued, stepping closer, and thats your right. I wont make excuses. Im young, I want to go out, not stay home. You always said youd love anyone. You know that.
I do, Emma replied, but Im fed up, Harry. I dont want a cheap peace offering.
Its not cheap he muttered.
What difference does it make if youre not giving it from the heart, just to get me to forgive you?
Hell never forgive you, he snapped, youre a homebody, I need variety. I wont apologise for that.
Then I wont forgive you either.
Eventually Emma did forgive him, but it took a few days for the frost to melt. How could she live without Harry? Yet those days she began to feel something odd. One brightmorn after a vivid dream, Emma felt queasy. The next morning the same nausea lingered. She bought a test and got two lines.
She didnt know how to tell Harry.
Fate, it seemed, had a sense of humour.
Shed been dreaming of a child for ages, and Harry always said he wanted one too. She even thought it might finally settle him down.
Harry, Im pregnant, she blurted.
Harrys face went through a carousel of surprise, fear, and bewilderment.
Now youre pulling a prank on me? he asked.
No, look, she handed him the test, I know its sudden
Youre kidding? A baby is happiness! Harry beamed, I was losing hope! Everything will change, trust me!
The next day he vanished again, this time for a whole week. He and Charlie had driven out to a country cottage to celebrate the news, with other mates and, as it later emerged, an exgirlfriend named Katie.
Emma was left alone with the news that should have changed everything, as Harry had promised. Every call went straight to voicemail. She finally realised nothing would ever change.
When Harry finally returned, he carried a lavish bouquet, hoping to atone for his weeklong disappearance. But he didnt come back to their flat. He turned the key, only to find a strangers flat. Inside, a child was playing, strangers sat on the sofa, and everything was unfamiliar.
Excuse me, who are you? Harry asked, stunned by the new occupants.
Only when he spoke did anyone notice him. A man and his wife dropped their tablets, phones, and lunged at him.
This is our flat, youre not welcomepolice will be called! the woman shouted.
Police? I live here! Harry protested.
Youve got the wrong door, lad, she retorted. Or did you actually misread the flat number?
Mate, how did my key fit this door then? a disgruntled man muttered. Thief! Or Ive heard of flats being let to multiple tenants. Cant be need to call
Harry, still in shock, fumbled for his phone and dialled the landlord.
Ian Parker, whats happening? Whos in my flat? he demanded.
Silence answered from the other end.
Paul, youve moved out Emma told us a week ago you were leaving, we cleared the place, gave her the deposit. So what now?
What? Emma left? Were moving out? The news hit him hard. He loved sudden disappearances, but this was different.
He stood on the stairwell with the bouquet still in hand, the flowers now useless. He was ejected from the flat, of course. A neighbour, Vicky, who hed chatted with now approached, holding two large duffel bags.
Hey Harry, she said, handing over the bags, Emma left these with me. She said you should collect them.
Harry took the heavy bags, full of his belongings.
He drove to Emmas mother, Diane Clarkes house, convinced Emma was staying there.
Diane, adjusting her spectacles, asked, What do you want, Harry? Ive been comforting Emma for a week now.
I need to see Emma, he replied. Shes pregnant. I have to talk to her.
Seeing a future grandchild seemed to soften her. Come in. Im not thrilled about her being a single mother, but you can speak to her.
Harry barged into Emmas room, accusations spilling out.
Relaxing? Great! Imagine me, homeless, roof almost caved in, and youre not even there, just strangers! Thats not right
Emma didnt take it lightly.
When was the last time you paid the rent, Harry? Emma snapped. You never thought about bills or groceries. Youd disappear for weeks, then show up for dinner. Welcome to reality: pay the mortgage, buy noodles and bread, and no ones waiting with open arms.
Im here to apologise, and you Harry muttered, Ill manage on my own!
He kicked the door as he left.
Desperate, he tried borrowing money from friendsCharlie, othersbut everyone turned him down. Having him as a mate was fun, lending him cash after his first paycheck was not.
Late that night, exhausted, Harry returned to Dianes house. Emma wouldnt let him in, but Diane emerged.
Emma, you cant just throw him out, she said sympathetically, A child needs a father. Hes a bit scatterbrained, but you should guide him
Mom Emma began.
Hell stay the night. Then youll think about how to raise the child together
Harry stayed. Diane set a condition: If you want to stay, no more nightouts. Marry Emma. Think about the baby.
Harry agreed. It seemed change was finally on the horizon. He stopped vanishing, even helped with groceriesthough only briefly.
One afternoon, while Emma was at work, Diane came home early. The bedroom door was ajar, a soft murmur drifting out. She peeked inside after a few seconds a girl shrieked and bolted out.
Diane Clarke! I Harry leapt up as well.
Right then, Diane said, Better off without a father like this, isnt it?
