Bob, enough alreadydo something! Laura snaps, nudging her sleeping husband on the sofa. This is unbearable!
What? he mumbles, halfasleep.
Neighbourhood noise from the flat above doesnt bother Bob, but Laura cant settle down.
Emmas shouting again! Cant you hear her?
Bob remains in his dream, slipping deeper into sleep.
Fine, Ill go myself, theres no one else in the whole block to calm that monster! Laura hurls on her robe, slams the door and storms out.
Bob, groggy and cursing the world, drags himself after her.
Laura reaches the hallway where the peacedisturbers live and bangs on the door with all her might. Just then Paul bursts in, the door swinging wide.
From somewhere inside, the wail of sixyearold Ethan and Emmas sobs echo through the flat.
What do you want? Paul growls, swaying, clearly drunk.
Look at the clock! Laura shrieks. Its night!
Paul steps forward, fists clenched. And what of it?
Bob, his anger finally snapping, lands a punch that sends Paul sprawling onto the landing. The hallway falls silent.
A moment later, a terrified Emma peers out, tears streaking her face. She backs away from Bob, eyes wide.
Call the police, Bob says, his tone oddly sympathetic. Hell calm down and start again.
He wont, Emma sniffles. Hell finally go to sleep.
Are you sure? Laura asks.
Emma shrugs. I hope so
No, Laura cuts in, voice flat and final. I cant keep dealing with this circus. I have work in the morning. Take your son and stay with us for the night. And you, Paulsort yourself out tomorrow.
Nightly squabbles have become routine in this building. Most residents keep their heads down, but Bob, obeying Lauras commands, sighs heavily, dresses, and heads upstairs.
Laura grows tired of it, too. She notices the longer Bob stays, the keener he is to save the neighbour.
Again? Youre a hero now? she hisses after him.
Bob doesnt hear her. He sees only Ethans frightened eyes as the boy clings to his mothers lap, and Emmas pale, terroretched face.
After dealing with Paul, Bob traditionally leads Emma and her child to his flatfarther from temptation. Laura spreads a blanket on the couch for them.
The next evening Emma thanks her rescuers, bringing scones and other homemade treats. A friendship buds between the flats.
Soon Emma and Ethan become regular guests at Bob and Lauras house. Emma constantly offers to help Laura with chores, and Ethan clings to Bob, eyes bright as if looking at a superherostrong, steady, smelling faintly of tobacco.
Bob, warmed by the boys admiration, starts buying him toys, fixing his model cars, even bringing home a metal building set and later a football.
Bob and Laura have no children. They first hoped to enjoy a childfree life; then, slowly, the silence grew painful, a third occupant in their home.
One day, Ethans wideopen eyes stare at them, and something shifts inside Laura.
At work, Laura vents in the staff room, her cigarette smoke curling around her.
Can you believe Emma came crying again last night? Her husband was out of his mind again! I dont get women who put up with that. If it were me, Id have thrown him out yesterday! she exclaims.
She probably still loves him, says Valentina, the senior clerk, cautiously. You said when hes sober hes a decent bloke.
A decent bloke? Hes a useless lad! No meat on his bones. If I were in Emmas shoes, Id have left that drunk a long time ago!
Maybe shes got nowhere else to go, adds young Ira. Its hard with a child alone.
Laura blows a plume of smoke. Theyre not even married! He still lives in her flat! Its time to sweep him out with a broom! Shes got no pride, not a drop! Shes just a doormat!
She speaks loudly, as if trying to convince herself more than anyone else, that shes smart, strong, independentfar better than Emma.
But every evening she comes home to the same picture: Bob and Ethan hunched over that metal set, laughing. The sound of Bobs genuine, happy laughter fills the hallway.
On a Saturday, Laura returns from the grocery with bags heaving. The door to Emmas flat is ajar. She peers inside on autopilot and freezes.
They arent kissing or embracing; theres nothing illicit.
Bob sits on a stool, hammer in hand, as Ethan, standing tall, hands him nails. Emma leans against the doorway, watching them with a deep, serene contentment that chills Laura to the bone. They look like a perfect familysomething Laura never created.
What a monstrous thought, she mutters, turning away. Nonsense! Bob could never Im everything to him! Emma foolish hen!
The next time Emma asks for help, Laura stops her at the door and, louder than before, says so Bob can hear: Enough, Emma! When will you get a grip? He isnt even your husband! Why tolerate that drunken beast in your flat? Throw him out, end it! Or do you enjoy playing the victim? Your son is watching!
Her words land like poison on fertile ground.
A week later, a dejected Paul, suitcase in hand, leaves the block.
Laura triumphs. At last, Emma and her son vanish from their lives. No more protection needed.
Silence settles in. Saturdays no longer bring fresh scones, and the corridor is free of childrens laughter.
At first Laura revels in the order, but the quiet soon turns heavy, pressing down on the flat. Bob comes home, eats dinner in silence, and retreats to the living room to stare at the television. He grows darker, 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 facing away, as if I dont exist.
Then, one afternoon, Laura feels a sudden headache. She steps into the lift, presses the wrong button, and ends up on the floor below. The door to Emmas flat stands ajardéjà vu.
She steps inside.
She keeps asking herself why, why she entered. Seeing Bob and Emma wrapped up in each other, oblivious to everything, she freezes, says nothing, slips out on tiptoes, and shuts the door quietly behind her.
Bob returns an hour later, eats in silence, and stares at the TV.
Laura says nothing to him. She cant. She decides that knowing his secret is enough to try to fix things.
She despises Emma in that moment, and herself, for having pushed Paul out, making room for her own husbandlike figure. Yet Bob isnt really her husband; hes proposed many times, but she always brushed it off, saying the marriage certificate isnt the point. Now he could walk away
She wont tell Bob she knows about his affair.
Maybe nothing will work with this chick after all? Laura will wait. She will endure.
She endures.
Bob and Emma continue their secret romance. Laura pretends not to see, not to understand.
Sometimes Emma drops by with Ethan and pastries, just as before. Laura smiles politely, forces herself to eat the treats, and says nothing.
She endures.
Its not the first year.
One day, while dismissively calling Emma a doormat, Laura doesnt realise she is programming her own future. Now she sits in an undesirable spot, and her silence becomes the loudest confession of defeat.
Laura fears saying too much and ruining her happy family, where her role is that of the patient sufferer.
The role of the doormat.
