Brian Smith rolls over in the shared flat on the third floor of a block in Brixton, mumbling something incoherent. Laura, his wife, nudges him angrily. Come on, Brian, do something already! This is unbearable!
He groans halfasleep, unaware of the shouting from the flat above. Laura, however, cant settle down.
Mollys screaming again! Cant you hear her? she yells.
Brian doesnt answer, drifting back into sleep.
Fine, Ill go myself, Laura snaps, pulling on her housecoat and slamming the front door of the hallway behind her.
Sleepgroggy Brian sits up, curses the world under his breath, and follows her down the stairs.
Laura reaches the door of the flat thats been ruining the peace for weeks and bangs on it with all her strength. Just as shes about to give up, Paul Taylor flings the door open.
Inside, sixyearold Daniel wails and his mother Molly sobs.
What do you want? the drunken owner of the flat snarls, swaying on unsteady feet.
Did you check the time? Laura shrieks. Its the middle of the night!
Then what? Paul steps forward, fists clenched.
Nothing! Brian roars, and with one swing he sends Paul sprawling onto the landing. Paul collapses and the hallway falls silent.
A few minutes later, a frightened Molly peeks out, her face streaked with tears. She watches Brian with dread, too scared to move closer.
Call the police, Brian says, his voice softening as he looks at the distraught woman. Hell recover and start again.
He wont start, Molly sniffles. Hell finally sleep.
Are you sure? Laura asks.
Molly shrugs. I hope so
No, Im not convinced, Laura cuts in, tone firm enough to leave no room for argument. I cant stand this endless drama. I have work in the morning. Take your son and stay over at our place. As for Paul tomorrow youll sort him out. She glances disdainfully at Paul.
Latenight squabbles have become routine for the residents of the building, and most neighbours stay out of it. Only Brian, obeying Lauras demands, sighs heavily, gets dressed, and heads upstairs.
Laura soon tires of this pattern. She also notices that the farther she climbs, the more eagerly Brian rushes to rescue the neighbour.
Again? Youre a hero now! she hisses after him.
But Brian hears nothing. He only sees Daniels frightened eyes as the boy clings to his mothers lap, and Mollys pale, terrortwisted face.
After dealing with Paul, Brian habitually brings the mother and child to his flat, away from the chaos. Laura spreads a blanket for them in the living room.
The next evening, Molly thanks her rescuers by bringing fresh scones and other homemade treats. Slowly the two families become friends.
Soon Molly and Daniel become regular guests at the Smiths house. Molly offers to help Laura with chores, and Daniel looks up to Brian with the admiration of a child seeing a superherostrong, calm, smelling faintly of tobacco, dependable.
Brian basks in the boys adoration. He begins buying Daniel toys, fixing his model cars, one day bringing a metal construction set, another a football.
The Smiths have no children of their own. They had hoped to enjoy a childfree life together, but things never work out. That quiet ache feels like a third, unseen tenant.
One day, Daniels wideopen eyes stare back at Brian, and something shifts inside Laura. She usually holds back her frustration at home, but vents at work, finding release in the staff break room.
Can you believe it? The neighbour came crying again last night! Her husbands been out of control! I dont understand women who put up with that. Id never put up with it for a day! she tells her colleagues, cigarette smoke curling from her lips.
She probably still loves him, says Valentina Ivanova, the senior clerk, gently. You said when hes sober hes a decent man.
Decent? Hes a useless bloke! No meat, no fish, just a clueless lad! Laura snarls. Any sensible woman would have left that drunk already!
Maybe she has nowhere else to go, young Ira interjects. Its hard with a child on her own.
Nothing of the sort! Laura fumes, exhaling a plume of smoke. She and that Paul arent even married! Theyve been living in her flat for ages. Its time to sweep him out with a broom! No pride left in her, just a pathetic victim!
She shouts, as if trying to convince herself shes strong, independent, a hundred times better than Molly.
Yet every evening she watches Brian and Daniel hunched over that metal set, hearing the rare sound she craves: her husbands genuine laughter.
One Saturday, Laura returns from the shop with heavy bags. The door to Mollys flat is ajar. She peeks inside, freezes on the threshold.
Nothing illicit is happening. Theyre simply together.
Brian sits on a stool, hammer in hand, while Daniel, looking very serious, hands him nails. Molly leans against the doorframe, a serene happiness on her face that makes Lauras chest grow cold. They look like a perfect familya picture Laura never managed to create.
What a monstrous thought, she mutters, turning away. Nonsense! Brian couldnt Hes everything to me! And Mollyshes just a foolish hen!
The next time Molly knocks for help, Laura stops her at the door and, loud enough for Brian to hear, says, How many times, Molly? When will you finally use your head? Hes not even your husband! Why tolerate that drunken monster in your own flat? Throw him out and itll be over! Or do you like playing the victim? Your son is watching you!
Her words land like poison on ready soil.
A week later, a slumped Paul, suitcase in hand, leaves the building. Laura celebrates triumphantly. At last, Molly and her son will disappear from their lives foreverno more protection needed.
Silence settles over the block. No more scones on Saturdays, no childs laughter echoing down the hallway. Laura initially revels in the order, but the quiet soon feels heavy, oppressive.
Brian comes home from work, eats dinner in silence, and retreats to the living room to stare at the television. He grows gloomier, more withdrawn.
Hes just tired, Laura tells herself, thats why he doesnt look at me at the table or laugh at my jokes. He sleeps with his back to me, as if Im not even there.
Then a strange turn of events shatters everything.
Laura returns from work early one day, a throbbing headache in her mind. In a daze she presses the wrong button in the lift and steps out on the floor below. The door to Mollys flat hangs open
A déjà vu hits her. She steps inside.
She asks herself over and over why shes there, why she entered. Seeing Brian and Molly tangled together, oblivious to everything, she freezes, makes no sound, slips out on tiptoes, and gently closes the door behind her.
An hour later Brian arrives, eats dinner in silence, and loses himself in the TV. Laura says nothing.
She cant bring herself to tell Brian she knows his secret. She hates Molly, she hates herself for having pushed Paul out, for making room for her own husbandthough Brian isnt really her husband. Hes asked her to marry many times, but she always refused, saying the ceremony isnt what matters. Now, knowing his betrayal, she thinks maybe he could walk away.
She wont reveal his infidelity. She wonders if anything will work with this hen. She decides to wait.
She endures.
Brian and Molly continue their covert affair. Laura pretends not to see, not to understand. Occasionally Molly visits with Daniel and a batch of pies, and Laura smiles politely, bites into the offering, and says nothing.
She has been tolerating this for years.
One day, calling Molly a pathetic victim, Laura never realizes shes programming her own future. Now she finds herself in an enviable positionher silence is the loudest confession of her own defeat. Laura fears that speaking out will ruin her happy life, where she plays the leading role of the victim.
She clings to that role, waiting, enduring.
