Hannah was the first to turn the key and push open the door, only to freeze on the threshold. From inside wafted the sound of some obscure quiz show blaring from the telly, a smattering of voices in the kitchen, and the unfamiliar scent of lavender and onions. Behind her, Tom nearly dropped his suitcase in shock.
Shh, whispered Hannah, extending her arm to block his way. Theres someone in our flat.
Slumped across their beloved faded corduroy sofa lounged two strange people. A man in trackies flicked through channels, while beside him a plump woman clattered knitting needles. On the battered coffee table sat mismatched mugs, plates with a few stubborn crumbs, a haphazard pile of tablets and ointments.
Er, excuse me, but… who are you? Hannahs voice trembled with dreamlike uncertainty.
The pair turned, entirely unembarrassed.
Oh, youre back, are you? said the woman, not even pausing her knitting. Were Brendas cousins. She gave us your key, said you lot were off on holiday.
Toms cheeks went as pale as clotted cream.
Which Brenda?
Your mum, the man finally roused himself, standing with a click of his sandals. Were from Yorkshire. Here with David, doctors orders. Brenda sorted us your place, said you wouldnt mind.
Hannah wandered, ghost-like, into the kitchen. There, a teenager of about fifteen hovered over a frying pan, brow creased as he scorched sausages. The fridge bulged with alien groceries. The dining table groaned under a mound of unwashed dishes.
And you are? she breathed, barely audible.
David, the boy said, turning around. Its alright to eat, isnt it? Granny Brenda said so.
Hannah stumbled back to the hall, finding Tom frantically poking at his phone.
Mum, what on earth is this? His voice was hushed but hard as granite.
A cheery voice burst through the receiver: Tommy! Back already? Did you have a good trip? Oh, dont mind Wayne and Louise, theyre Brendas, you knowtheir Davids been poorly, so I gave them your keys. No sense in an empty flat, love. Theyll just be here a week.
Mum, did you actually ask us?
What for? You werent in! Make sure you tell them Ill see to the flat; I want it left tidy.
Hannah grabbed the phone. Brenda, have you actually let strangers into our flat?
Strangers? Louise is my cousinslept top-and-tail with her growing up, you know. Not strangers at all.
I dont care where you slept. This is our flat!
Oh, Hannah, do calm down. Theyre family! Quiet folk, they wont break a thing. Davids poorly, they needed a little help. Youre not so mean, are you?
Tom reclaimed the phone: Mum, you have an hour. Come pick them up. Every last one.
Tommy, dont be daft! They need to be here till ThursdayDavids got appointments, blood tests, you know. Theyd booked into that B&B, but I saved them a fortune.
Mum. One hour. Ill call the police if I have to.
He hung up. Hannah sank onto the fuzzy footstool, face hidden in her hands. The suitcases stood silent and unopened. From the living room, the quiz show kept droning; in the kitchen, sausages wept oil in the pan. Hours ago, as the plane touched down, shed been giddy with the thought of finally coming home. Now she was a stranger in her own home.
Well start gathering our things, the woman from the sofa appeared in the hallway, sheepish but determined. Brenda thought it wouldnt be a bother. We would have rung, but no mobile, you see. She offered, we accepted. Meant to stay just a week for Davids appointments.
Tom stood staring out the window, shoulders rigid, his silence tense as a thunderstorm. Hannah could see the anger thrumming under his skinjust like when his mum would drop by, unannounced, in the old days.
And wheres our cat? Hannah remembered abruptly.
What cat?
Arthur. Ginger. We left the key for his sake!
No idea, Louise shrugged. Never saw a cat.
Hannah raced through the flat. Arthur emerged, a shadow beneath the bed, pressed into the dark corner. His eyes were wild, fur bristled like a broom. When Hannah reached for him, he hissed; ears flattened.
Arthur, sweetheartjust me. Its alright.
He eyed her, unconvinced. The room reeked of other people. Some strange pills on her nightstand; the bed made the wrong way round; unfamiliar slippers on the floor.
Tom crouched beside her.
Sorry.
For what? You didnt know.
For my mum. For all this.
She thinks shes right.
Shes always like this, he muttered. Remember when we first moved in? Shed turn up whenever, no warning. Thought shed got it, but clearly not.
Voices floated from the hall. Brenda had arrived. Hannah brushed off her skirt, straightened her hair, and went to meet her fate.
Brenda stood in the entryway, indignant, handbag at her side.
Tom, have you lost your marbles?
Mum, have a seat, Tom gestured to the kitchen.
No point! Louise, Wayne, pack up, theyre giving us the boot. Well go to mine.
Mum. Sit down.
Brenda noticed Toms expression and fell silent. They all trooped to the kitchen, where David was dejectedly picking at the last sausage.
Mum, Tom sat opposite, how did you possibly think it was alright to let people stay here without asking us?
I was only helping! Louise rang, sobbing, David in agony, all the way to London with nowhere to stay. I thought, empty flatperfect!
It isnt your flat, Mum.
Well, Ive a key, havent I?
The keys for the cat. Not for letting out spare rooms.
Oh, dont be ridiculous, Tom. This is familyLouise is my cousin, we go back donkeys years. Waynes a lovely chap, works hard, and Davids not well. Youd toss them out?
Hannah poured herself water. Her hands shook.
Brenda, you didnt even ask.
What for? You werent here!
Precisely why you should have asked, Tom raised his voice. We have mobiles, you could have called or texted. Wed have decided together.
And youd have said no?
Maybe. Or yes, but only for a night or two with ground rules. But wed have known. Thats called respect.
Brenda stood, face flushed. Always the same, she sniffed. I move mountains and get blamed. Louise, get your things.
Mum, your flats a shoebox. You said yourself it wont all fit.
Well squeeze. Better than being unwelcome here.
Hannah set down the glass. Brenda, stop. You know this was out of order, or youd have rung.
Brenda paused. You knew wed say no, so you went ahead and left us no choice. You hoped wed just put up with it, didnt you?
I only meant to help.
No. You wanted it done your way. Thats not the same.
Brenda, for the first time, genuinely floundered.
Louise rang me in tears. David was suffering. I just wanted to help.
Thats fair, Tom said, his tone gentler. But you still cant make decisions for our place. Imagine if I popped into yours while you were gone, let mates stay, didnt tell you. How would you feel?
Id be fuming.
Exactly.
Silence thickened the kitchen. From the living room came the clatter of bags, Louise muffled sobs, Waynes shuffling feet. David loitered in the doorway, staring at his trainers.
Sorry, the boy mumbled. Granny said it was alright.
Hannah looked at hima frightened, apologetic lad. It wasnt his doing that grown-ups couldnt sort themselves out.
Its not your fault, she said, hollow. Go on, help your mum.
Brenda dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
I truly meant well. It never occurred to me to check with you. Youre my childrenIve always decided things for you. I thought you
We arent children, Mum. Were thirty. We have our own lives.
I see, Brenda murmured, rising. Do you want the keys back?
We do, said Hannah, nodding. Sorry, but trust is gone.
I understand.
Louises family left in a flurry. Their farewells lingered, apologetic, awkward. Brenda bustled them away, promising to somehow manage. Tom closed the door and sagged against it.
They paced the flat wordlessly. Theyd need to remake the beds, clear out the fridge, scrub away the marks of strangersleft-behind socks, chairs out of place, greasy dishes. Arthur still cowered, refusing to emerge.
Do you think she gets it? Hannah asked, sliding open the kitchen window.
No idea. I hope so.
And if not?
Then firmer boundaries. This cant happen again.
She hugged him, the only anchor in the chaotic detritus of their violated home.
You know whats worst? Hannah pulled away. Arthur. We did all this for him, and he ends up starved, terrified, while this circus goes on.
Did they even feed him?
Doesnt look like. Empty bowl, dirty water. No one remembered him.
Tom knelt by the bed.
Arthur, sorry, mate. Mums not getting the keys again.
Slowly, Arthur nosed out, rubbing cautiously against Toms ankles. Hannah fetched his food. He devoured it, frantic, as though he hadnt eaten in days.
They set to cleaning: out went the strangers groceries, the beds were remade, dishes scrubbed. Arthur, finally sated, curled into a doughnut and slept in the windows drowsy sunlight. Bit by bit, the flat began to feel like theirs again.
That evening, the phone rang. Brendas voice was small, cracking.
Tom, Ive been thinking. You were right. Im sorry.
Thank you, Mum.
Hannah, is she cross?
He glanced at his wife; she nodded.
She is. But shell forgive you. In time.
After hanging up, they sat late over mugs of tea, not talking. Dusk gathered at the window panes. The flat was still and clean, theirs again. Their holiday had ended suddenly, brutally, like falling awake from a peculiar dream.
