When I stepped into the lift of our block of flats, there was already a woman inside, holding the keys to my flat.
At first, I thought I must have made a mistake.
But no.
The keyring was unmistakablea small blue heart my sister had given to me years ago.
The woman, about forty, had short, dark hair and carried a stern handbag over her shoulder. She stood calmly, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world.
The lift started its ascent.
My heart was pounding.
Excuse me, I said. Those keys how did you get them?
She looked at me.
Then at the keys.
Then back.
And who are you? she asked.
Her question felt like a slap.
I live in flat twelve, I replied.
She froze for a moment.
Then, quietly, she said,
Thats strange.
Why? I asked.
Because so do I.
The lift halted at the sixth floor, but neither of us got out.
There was silence.
Ive lived there for four years, I told her.
She squeezed the keys in her hand.
I signed a tenancy agreement last month.
I stared at her.
What sort of agreement?
She opened her handbag and drew out a folder.
Inside was a copy of a rental contract.
The address matched mine.
Flat twelve.
Silence fell.
Who gave you the keys? I asked.
The landlord, she answered.
Which one?
George.
My stomach tightened.
George was my cousin.
Hed told me I was only staying in the flat temporarily until he came back from abroad.
Hes the owner, I said quietly.
She nodded.
Yes. And he told me the flat was empty.
The lift stopped at our floor.
The doors slid open.
We both stood motionless.
Then she said,
Perhaps theres been a mistake.
Perhaps, I replied.
We stepped out into the corridor.
Flat twelves door was right before us.
She raised her keys.
So did I.
Both sets looked identical.
There was a peculiar silence.
Sometimes the worst feeling isnt realising someone has lied to you.
Its the moment you grasp that perhaps youve never really known the truth.
I looked at her.
Shall we open it?
She sighed.
Yes.
Tell me honestly…
If you learned someone had given your home to someone else, would you try to uncover the truth calmly, or would you explode on the spot?
