It was the sort of night that still haunts me when I think back to those years in London. Paul fumbled with his old brass key, turned it, and pushed the door open only to find the flat wasnt his. Strangers lounged on the sofa, a child kicked a ball on the carpet, and every piece of furniture seemed unfamiliar.
Excuse me, who are you? Paul asked, bewildered, as his voice finally echoed through the hallway. The couple in the living room dropped their tablets, their phones clattered to the floor, and they lunged forward, ready to shove the intruder out.
Youve come into our home and youre still asking questions? the woman shrieked. Leave now or well call the police!
What police? I live here! Paul protested.
You must be mistaken, lad! she retorted. Did you take a wrong turn at the door?
***
Friday evening. Eleanor was peeling cold potatoes, wondering whether Paul would finally turn up. She glanced at the small tin box on the shelf a little treat shed bought for herself, because nobody else would spoil her. Her loose hair fell in soft waves as she stared at her phone.
Paul, hello! Where are you? Its nearly seven, she texted her boyfriend, who normally finished work at four. He was a man of fickle habits, quitting jobs as often as he started them, but Eleanor never stopped waiting.
Ah, seven you still awake? Im out with the lads, Paul replied cheerily over the din of a Friday night pub, Ill call you later, alright?
Out with the lads I see, Eleanor sighed, Looks like Ill be eating alone.
Ill try, he said, and the line went dead.
She whispered Ill try to herself, glancing at the clock.
Half past seven slipped by. In Pauls world, Ill try usually meant no promise. He arrived when he pleased, vanished on a whim, and left Eleanor with a hollow ache that lingered like a winter chill.
Four years had passed four rollercoaster years of soaring highs when Paul was attentive and devoted, and gutwrenching drops when he disappeared without warning. Sometimes he left after a fight, silent and cruel, while Eleanor wept in the corner. Other times he simply didnt show up for work, or vanished on weekends, treating it all as a trivial matter. For him, it was a night out; for her, an ocean of tears.
But today was supposed to be her birthday, and Paul had once more slipped away.
Eight, nine, ten oclock the numbers on the clock mocked her. Shed washed the dishes, folded the laundry, even turned on an old blackandwhite film they once loved. Yet those days when Paul was truly hers were gone.
The dinner on the table had been shifted to the fridge; the clean dishes sat on the shelf. At eleven the phone rang again, but it wasnt Paul. It was Colin, his best mate.
Eleanor? Are you home?
Yes, but why are you calling? Wheres Paul?
Colins voice trembled. We had a bit of a tumble driving back from the pub. Theyve taken Paul to the A&E. Do you want the address? Will you come?
Eleanors world froze. The birthday feast, the halfdrunk tea, the quiet film all dissolved into a thick fog of dread.
How serious is it? she asked.
I dont know. The doctors havent said much. Im fine, just waiting by the windows. Come if you can, Colin replied.
Within half an hour Eleanor, fists clenched and teeth bitten, was in a taxi roaring toward StThomas Hospital. Paul, that careless fruit, had abandoned her on her birthday, but if he died now how could she bear it?
She didnt see Colin on the ward, despite his promise to wait. She wandered the corridors, feeling her head spin, searching for a sign of direction. Then a loud, raucous laugh echoed around a corner.
She rushed, heart pounding, and found Paul and Colin perched on a plastic chair outside a ward, clutching their bellies and guffawing. Paul was unharmed, his eyes still shining with that reckless sparkle Eleanor knew too well.
Eleanor! Youve come! Paul shouted, dabbing tears from his face. Got you, didnt we? It was just a joke, love. You fell for it, didnt you?
If it hadnt been for the looming threat of a prison sentence, she would have thrown him straight back into A&E.
It was a joke, she repeated, voice flat.
Of course it was. What were we thinking, driving home in a taxi after a night out? Youre slow, love. Thought wed let you have a birthday party on our own? Brilliant, mate, brilliant! Paul clapped her on the back, but she pushed him away. A birthday prank is the worst thing you could think of.
She slung her bag over her shoulder. Im going.
Where to? We were about to celebrate! Paul tried to hold her.
You didnt invite me to celebrate, she said, firm.
Come on, youd be missing all the fun, he pleaded.
She left without another word, the house empty behind her.
Back at her flat, she slipped off her coat, revealing a plain nightdress, and shuffled to the kitchen in the dark. The fridge was full, but she had no appetite. She sat at the table, watching the clock tick, still stunned.
An hour later Paul knocked.
Eleanor, whats wrong? Its just a joke! he said, taking a seat opposite her, reaching for a hug again.
Its a joke, she repeated, and Im tired of your jokes.
He waved a chocolate bar in front of her. Look what I brought as a peace offering. Im young, I want to have fun, not sit at home. Im not to blame if youre not on board.
She stood. Im not holding you back, Paul, but I have other places to be. Ill be going now, she said, glancing at her nightdress. Im really leaving.
Whats your destination? he asked, curiosity tinged with irritation.
Anywhere but here, she answered.
He tried to sound courteous. As you wish, Your Majesty. Ill go see Colin then.
***
Three days passed with no word from Paul. Eleanor kept to herself, trying not to think of him, yet his absence filled every empty chair, every halfread book on the nightstand, every solitary mug in the dishwasher.
On the fourth evening, as she painted a numbered picture to ease her mind, Paul burst in with a lavish bouquet of pale pink roses her favourite.
Hello, he said, handing them over. I brought these. You like them, right?
She stared, unmoved, and let the flowers drop.
I know youre angry, he continued, stepping forward. I wont make excuses. Im young, I want to wander, not stay at home. You once said youd love anyone. You know me.
I know, Eleanor replied. Im fed up, Paul. I dont want this cheap truce.
Its not cheap he protested.
Its a token, not from the heart, but a placatory prize to make me forgive you, she said. I wont forgive you this time.
He scoffed. Fine, stay angry. Im a homebody, youre a wanderer. I wont apologise.
And I wont forgive you either, she retorted.
Eventually, she did forgive not immediately, but after a few days of cold silence melted into reluctant acceptance. Yet a strange unease settled over her. One bright morning, after a vivid dream, she felt a queasy lightness. The next day the same. She bought a pregnancy test; the two strips turned pink.
She didnt know how to tell Paul.
Fate seemed to step in. She had long wished for a child, and Paul always said he wanted one too. She thought maybe it would finally anchor him.
Paul, Im pregnant, she said.
His face twisted through surprise, fear, and bewilderment.
Now youre pulling a prank on me? he asked.
No, look, she handed him the test. Its sudden.
A child is joy! he exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. I was losing hope. Everything will change, I promise.
But the next day he vanished again, this time for a whole week. He had gone with Colin to a countryside cottage to celebrate the news, accompanied by other mates and, as later emerged, an exgirlfriend named Katie.
Eleanor was left alone with the news that should have reshaped their lives. She tried to call him, but his phone was off. The realization struck that nothing would ever truly change.
When Paul finally returned, he carried an opulent bouquet, intending to make up for his weeklong absence. But he didnt come home; he arrived at a different flat entirely. He turned the key, opened the door, and stepped into strangers lives a child splashing on a couch, unfamiliar furniture everywhere.
Excuse me, who are you? Paul asked, stunned by the new occupants.
Only when he spoke did the couple notice him. The husband and wife hurled their tablets aside and rushed him.
This is our home! Youre trespassing and you still ask questions? the woman shouted. Leave now or well call the police!
What police? I live here! he protested.
Youre mistaken, lad, she snapped. Did you get the wrong door?
A disgruntled man muttered, How did my key fit this lock? Thief? Ive heard of flats being let to multiple tenants. Must call someone
Paul, still shaking, dialed the landlord.
MrThompson! Whats going on? Whos in my flat? he demanded.
Silence answered.
Its Paul, youve moved out Eleanor told us last week you were leaving, so weve taken the flat. The deposit went back to her. Any questions?
What? Eleanor left? Were moving out? Paul was stunned. Hed always loved sudden disappearances, but this was different.
He stood on the stairwell, bouquet still in hand, as the landlords neighbour, Vicky, approached with two large duffel bags.
Hey Paul, she said, handing over the bags, Eleanor left them with me. She said you should collect them.
He hefted the heavy bags, filled with his own belongings, and drove to Eleanors mother, Lydia, at her cottage in Surrey. He was sure Eleanor would be there.
Lydia, adjusting her spectacles, asked, What do you want, Paul? Ive been soothing Eleanor for a week now.
I need to see her. Shes pregnant. I have to talk, he urged.
She softened, thinking of a grandchild, and let him in. Come in. I cant stand the thought of her being a single mother. Talk to her, apologise.
Paul stormed into Eleanors room, accusations spilling.
Are you resting? Im homeless tonight because of strangers in my flat! How could you leave me like this?
Eleanor, however, wasnt about to give in. When was the last time you paid the rent, Paul? You never thought about bills or groceries. You vanished for weeks, then showed up for a meal. Time to face reality: pay the rent, buy proper food, and stop expecting doors to open for you.
Im here to talk, not to be lectured, he snapped, kicking the door as he left.
He tried to borrow money from friends Colin, others but they all declined. Lending to a man who squandered his wages was not appealing.
Late that night, exhausted, Paul returned to Lydias house. Eleanor barred his entry, but Lydia stepped out.
Eleanor, you cant just turn him out. Hes the father of your child. He may be reckless, but you need him, she pleaded.
Mother Eleanor whispered.
Let him stay tonight. Then decide how youll raise the child together, Lydia urged.
Paul agreed to stay. It seemed a change was finally coming. He stopped disappearing, helped with shopping, and even tried to mend things.
But one afternoon, while Eleanor was at work, Lydia arrived early. She found the bedroom door ajar, a soft whisper drifting out. She peered in and, after a moment, a startled young woman burst out, shrieking.
Lydia! I Paul lunged forward.
Get out, Lydia commanded. Better to have no father than one like this.
