Blimey, Dad, what a welcome! Why would you need a spa when ‘all inclusive’ is right here at home? When Daniel handed her the keys to his flat, Eva knew she’d conquered her own Bastille. Not even Leo DiCaprio waited for his Oscar as eagerly as Eva waited for Daniel—with her own cosy nest included. Disheartened and thirty-five, she found herself more often eyeing stray cats and browsing ‘Craft Supplies’ shop windows. Then there’s Daniel: single, spent his youth on his career, healthy eating, the gym, and all that nonsense about finding yourself in the world—plus, childless. Eva had wished for this gift since she was twenty, and somewhere up there, they’d finally realised she meant it. “I’ve got one last work trip this year, then I’m all yours,” Daniel said, passing over the precious keys. “Just don’t be scared of my cave—I only come home to sleep,” he added, then jetted off to another time zone for the weekend. Eva packed her toothbrush and face cream and went to inspect the cave. Trouble started at the front door. Daniel warned the lock sometimes sticks, but Eva hadn’t expected it to be this stubborn. She spent forty minutes storming the door—shoving, pulling, jiggling the key, politely coaxing it, but it wouldn’t budge for the new resident. She began to deploy psychological tactics, learned from schoolyard squabbles. The neighbour’s door creaked open to the commotion. “Why are you trying to break into a stranger’s flat?” asked a concerned female voice. “I’m not breaking in, I have the keys,” snapped a sweaty Eva. “And who are you, exactly? Never seen you here before,” the nosy neighbour pressed. “I’m his girlfriend!” Eva declared, hands on hips—but only a sliver of an eye peered out for negotiations. “You?” The woman was sincerely surprised. “Yeah. Problem?” “No, it’s just… he’s never brought anyone home. And now, out of the blue—” “What do you mean ‘out of the blue’?” Eva bristled. “Oh, not my business, sorry,” the neighbour withdrew. Realising it was her versus the door, Eva jammed the key with all her determination—nearly spinning the frame around. The door finally gave way. Daniel’s entire internal life was on display—and Eva’s heart iced over. The minimalist digs were more monk’s cell than bachelor pad. “Poor soul, these walls know nothing of comfort,” Eva sighed, surveying the modest home she’d soon frequent. On the bright side, the neighbour was right: no woman’s touch had ever graced these walls, floors, kitchen nor those dreary windows. Eva was first. Unable to resist, Eva nipped to the nearest shop for a pretty shower curtain and a bath mat—and for good measure, oven mitts and kitchen towels. Of course, the shopping spree continued: to the mat and curtain she added air fresheners, artisanal soaps, makeup containers. “Adding little touches to someone’s flat isn’t cheeky at all,” she reassured herself, filling a second trolley. The lock no longer resisted Eva. In fact, it stopped working altogether—about as effective as a hockey goalie forgetting his mask before a match. Realising the mess she’d made, Eva spent the night extracting the lock with kitchen knives, then dashed out for a replacement in the morning. Knives needed replacing too—and forks, spoons, tablecloth, boards, trivets. Curtains were close behind. On Sunday afternoon, Daniel called—delayed another couple days on his trip. “I’d love it if you made my flat a bit warmer and cosier,” he grinned, as Eva confessed her decorative liberties. She’d already trucked in so much coziness, the flat had a technical plan and documentation. Years of solo woman nesting finally unleashed, she couldn’t stop. By Daniel’s return, only a spider above the vent remained. Eva wanted to evict him, but his startled eight eyes won her pity—a symbol of not touching what’s not yours. Daniel’s home now looked as if he’d been happily married for eight years, disappointed, then found happiness again, just for the irony. Eva didn’t just overhaul the flat—she let the whole building know she was the new lady of the house. No ring yet, but that was just details. Neighbours were suspicious at first, but then shrugged: “If you say so—none of our business.” *** On Daniel’s return, Eva cooked a proper homemade dinner, wrapped her still-springy figure in glamorous attire, set candles and dimmed the new lights. The waiting began. Daniel was late. By the time Eva was feeling pinched in her most squatted-over corner, the lock turned. “Brand new lock, just give it a shove, it’s open!” she purred, not a hint of shame. The whole flat was her triumph; all would be forgiven. But as the door opened, Eva received Daniel’s text: “Where are you? I’m home. Looks exactly the same. Friends warned me you’d fill it with cosmetics!” She read it much later. Five strangers stepped in instead: two young men, two school-age kids, and a very ancient granddad who straightened up, slicked what hair remained. “Wow, Dad, someone’s rolling out the red carpet! Why go to the spa when you’ve got this ‘all inclusive’ at home?” the young man blurted, earning a nudge from his, presumably, wife for staring. Eva, two glasses in hand, was frozen. She wanted to scream, but was paralysed. Somewhere, the delighted spider snickered. “Sorry, who are you?” Eva squeaked. “Owner of this fine den. You’re here from the surgery, I suppose, for the dressing? Thought I said I’d manage,” replied granddad, eyeing her nurse’s outfit. “Well, Adam Matthews, it’s all bliss and comfort here now,” peered his daughter-in-law. “This is miles better than the crypt it was. And you, dear, what’s your name? Is Adam too old for you?” “E-E-Eva…” “Well! Adam, you pick ‘em well!” Judging by his gleaming eyes, granddad agreed. “Where’s Daniel?” Eva whispered, downing both glasses in a flash. Find out more “I’m Daniel!” chirped the eight-year-old. “Not yet, you’re too young,” his mum chuckled, ushering the kids and husband to the car. “E-e-erm, sorry, I think I’ve got the wrong flat,” Eva stammered, remembering her initial struggle with the lock. “This is Lilac Avenue, 18, flat 26, right?” “No, this is Birch Avenue, 18,” said granddad, already rubbing his hands with glee. “Oh, right,” Eva sighed, “My mistake. Well, make yourselves at home, I’ll just step out for a call.” She grabbed her phone and dashed to the bathroom, barricaded the door and wrapped herself in a towel. Only then did she see Daniel’s text. “Daniel, I’ll be there soon—got held up at the shop,” she replied. “No worries, bring a bottle of red if you can,” he messaged. Eva was bringing plenty of red—inside herself. With mat and curtain under her arm, she waited for the strangers to hit the kitchen, then escaped. Flung her things into a bag and fled. *** “I’ll tell you all about it later,” Eva explained her look as Daniel let her in. Moving like in a fog, she passed him wordlessly. First, the bathroom—out with the old curtain, down with the mat—then into the lounge, collapsing on the sofa until all nerves and wine evaporated by morning. Waking up, Eva saw a new young man waiting for an explanation. “Excuse me, what’s the address here?” “Button Lane, 18.”

Blimey, Dad, look at the fuss theyre making over you. And why bother with a spa when youve got an all-inclusive right here at home?

When Daniel finally handed Eve the keys to his flat, she knew: mission accomplished. Not even Leonardo DiCaprio anticipated his Oscar this muchEve had waited years for Daniel, plus her very own nest.

At thirty-five and a bit despondent, Eve found herself gazing with tender pity at stray cats and the enticing windows of craft shops.

Then along came Danielcareer-obsessed, a devotee of quinoa, yoga mats and those pointless existential quests like finding myselfand, notably, child-free.

Eve had wished for this present since she was twenty, and apparently the universe finally took her seriously.

Ive only got one business trip left this year, then Im all yours, Daniel grinned, pressing the sacred keys into her palm. Just dont be alarmed by my bachelor pad. I only really come home to sleep, he said, then dashed off to a different timezone for the weekend.

Eve packed her toothbrush, some moisturiser, and set off to investigate this so-called lair. The first challenge made itself known at the door. Daniel had warned her that the lock was temperamental, but Eve hadnt expected quite this level of recalcitrance.

She wrestled with the door for forty exhausting minutes: pushed, pulled, coaxed, tried the key at every anglesometimes stern, sometimes sweetbut the door clearly doubted her credentials.

Eve resorted to psychological warfare, the sort her classmates swore by behind the bicycle sheds. The commotion stirred a responsethe neighbouring door swung open.

Why are you breaking into someone elses flat? a concerned female voice demanded.

Im not breaking inIve got the keys! Eve snapped, wiping sweat from her brow.

And who are you, exactly? Ive not seen you before, persisted the neighbour, poking her nose in where it absolutely did not belong.

Im his girlfriend! Eve declared, hands on hips, facing a mere sliver of a door crack.

You? uttered the neighbour, genuinely astonished.

Yes, me! Any issue?

No, no. Its just hes never brought anyone here before (Eve adored Daniel even more for this), and now suddenly

Suddenly what? Eve frowned.

Well none of my business. Sorry, the neighbour said and promptly shut the door.

Knowing it was now or never, Eve shoved the key with the full force of her hopes and dreams, nearly spinning the entire lock. Triumphthe door yielded at last.

Daniels interior world lay before her, and Eve felt her soul glaze over like a window in February. Of course, a single young mans home is always a bit spartanbut this was full-on monks cell.

Poor thing. Your heart mustve forgottenor maybe never knownwhat it is to feel cosy, Eve muttered, surveying the bare basics where, henceforth, shed be a frequent guest.

On the bright side, she was first on the scene. The neighbour hadnt lied: no womans touch had ever graced these walls, this floor, this kitchen, or these curiously grey windows. Eve brand new, Eve sovereign.

Unable to resist, she darted out to the local shop for a lovely shower curtain and a bath mat, plus some oven mitts and fresh kitchen towels.

Naturally, being in the shop was a slippery slope. Soon the mat and curtain were joined by scented diffusers, handmade soap, and containers for Eves collection of face creams.

Adding a few bits to someones flat isnt overstepping, Eve reasoned, hitching a second trolley to the first.

The lock, for its part, stopped putting up a fight. In fact, it stopped working entirely and provided as much security as a turnstile at the Tube on strike day.

Realising what shed done, Eve spent hours with kitchen knives trying to wrench out the defunct lock until midnight, then dashed off at sunrise to buy a new one. And then, naturally, had to replace those knivesand forks, spoons, tablecloth, cutting boards, tea towels, you name itthe curtain was just the beginning.

On Sunday at noon, Daniel rang to say his trip was running longa couple of extra days.

Id be delighted if you make my flat feel a bit warmer, a bit cosier, he chuckled when Eve confessed shed been creative with his décor.

By now, Eve was importing cosiness by the vanload and arranging it by floor plan and spreadsheet. Shed hoarded years worth of comfort and, unleashed at last, she could not be stopped.

By Daniels return, the only thing left from his previous life was a spider by the vent. Eve considered ousting it, but caught sight of its eight thrilled eyes and decided to leave the poor thingan emblem of not-overdoing the moving-in process.

Daniels flat now looked as though hed been blissfully married for eight years, endured crushing disappointment, then bounced back happier than ever.

Eve didnt just commandeer the flat; she made sure the whole building knew there was a new lady in charge. No ring yet, but that was a mere formality.

The neighbours, at first, looked askance. Then they shruggedWell, if you say so. Not our problem.

***
For Daniels homecoming, Eve laid on a proper home-cooked meal, packed her still-perky posterior into a dress just the right sort of scandalous, arranged her finest fragrances, dimmed the new lighting, and waited.

Daniel was late. As the dress started digging stars onto the curves shed squatted for, someone put a key in the lock.

Brand new lockjust a nudge, its open! Eve called, trying for Marilyn Monroe but landing somewhere between nervous and seductive. She wasnt worriedher work in the flat warranted forgiveness for nearly anything.

Right then, Eves phone buzzed with a message from Daniel: Where are you? Im home. Everything looks the same! My mates warned me youd have filled the place with bubble baths and beauty stuff.

Eve didnt see that message until much later. Because, just then, five absolute strangers walked in: two young men, two school-aged kids, and a very elderly gentleman who instantly straightened and patted his wispy hair on spotting Eve.

Crikey Dad, look at this! And you wanted a spa break when youve got all this all-inclusive at home? chirped the younger chap, earning a glare from his evidently vainer wife.

Eve was rooted to the spot, clutching two glasses of wine, paralysed. She wanted to scream, but her brain had frozen in mortification.

Somewhere in the corner, that spider managed a triumphant giggle.

Sorry, er, who are you? Eve squeaked.

Owner of this fine establishment. And you, I gather, are from the GPs? Here for dressings? I thought I said I could handle myself, replied the old man, eyeing Eves nurse-like getup.

Ahem, right, Adam Matthews, its positively delightful in here, isnt it? the young wife peered behind Eve. Much better than before! We used to live like moles. And whats your name, love? Isnt Adam Matthews a bit senior for you? Still, he is quite the catchgot his own place

EEve

Well! Good taste, Adam Matthews, youve certainly got a knack!

The old gents twinkling eyes hinted he thought so too.

Wheres Daniel? Eve whispered, draining both glasses in record time.

Im Daniel! chimed an eight-year-old proudly.

Not yet, darling, youve got a way to go, his mum shooed both kids with dad out the front.

E-er, terribly sorry, I seem to have got the wrong flat, Eve stammered, recalling her battle with the lock. Is this Lilac Close, number eighteen, flat twenty-six?

No, dearthis is Beech Grove, number eighteen, beamed Adam, already unwrapping some mysterious parcel.

Ah, Eve sighed, tragic as a Shakespearean heroine. Easy mistake. You lot settle inI just need to make a call.

She grabbed her phone and fled to the bathroom, barricaded herself with a towel, and finally checked Daniels message.

Daniel, Ill be back soon, just got held up at the shops, she texted urgently.

No worries, Im waiting! If youre passing, grab a bottle of red? Daniel replied via voice note.

Eve decided to deliver the redinternally. With bath mat and shower curtain under her arm, she waited for the strangers to head to the kitchen, and made her escape.

***
Ill explain later, Eve blurted at Daniel, whod opened the door to her wild-eyed and windswept.

She glided past him in a daze, bypassing eye contact, beelined for the bathroom to reinstall the curtain and bath mat, then collapsed on the sofa, asleep before you could say embarrassment hangover.

Come morning, Eve woke to Daniels curious gaze.

Sowhats the address here, exactly?

Baker Street, eighteenEve blinked in the morning light. For a split second, last nights fiasco flickered in her minda parade of strangers, a wayward spider, the sound of laughter echoing where her pride ought to have been.

She managed a crooked grin, stretching out on Daniels sofa, hands buried in the plush blanket shed smuggled in during hour two of her nesting. She looked around: delicate lights glowed under the window, the calming scent of lavender drifted through the air, and the old kettle whistled merrily as if to affirmEve was here.

Its home, she replied, half-defiant, half-hopeful.

Daniel smiled, wide and unguarded, settling beside her, pulling her in like she truly belonged. It is now, he said, pressing his forehead to hers. And, for the record, I think that bath mat is a stroke of genius. And the scented soap. And the curtain with the weird tropical parrots.

Eve burst out laughingthe sound spilling over everything else, smoothing away leftover shame.

Outside, the neighbours door creaked open, and the nosy woman peered in, perhaps expecting more drama. Daniel waved, and Evenever one to pass up a chanceflashed her bravest smile.

The world felt just slightly more tilted towards her side, as ifeven with missteps, wrong keys, and mortifying entranceslife had brought her exactly where she needed to be. Even if it took moving mountains, or at least mixing up a postcode or two.

Eve squeezed Daniels hand, and thought, Ill take itevery bit of it. The chaos, the laughter, and this soft landing at the heart of someones world.

And somewhere, in a flat on Beech Grove, an old man admired his new bath mat, convinced hed been the luckiest winner of a surprise makeoverproving, perhaps, that nobody ever quite knows where comfort will turn up.

Eve closed her eyes and let herself belong.