I left the flats key with my best friend while I was off on holiday, and when I got back I found shed moved in with her whole family.
Mrs. Margaret Whitfield, I understand youre upset, but lets keep our voices down, the local constable said, rubbing his nose. So, theyre refusing to leave your flat?
Not just refusing! Margaret flailed her arms in despair. Sarah claimed she has a right to stay there! Can you imagine? I gave her the key so she could water the plants, and she she her voice trembled.
Calm down, have a seat, the constable pulled a chair forward. Tell me everything in order. When exactly did you hand over the key to who was it again?
To Sarah. Sarah Jane Anderson. Weve been friends for fifteen years. Actually, we used to be, Margaret smiled bitterly, clutching a handkerchief. I never thought she could do something like this. Never!
Two weeks ago Margaret Whitfields life ran like clockwork. At fiftythree she had everything shed ever wanted: a cosy twobedroom flat in a respectable part of London, a steady job as an accountant for a reputable firm, and an adult son who lived separately with his own family and visited now and then. Loneliness never bothered her after a divorce a decade ago shed learned to value her independence and peace.
That evening she was in the kitchen with her old pal Sarah. Theyd met years ago on an accountants refresher course and had kept in touch despite working for different companies.
You wont believe it, Sarah, Ive finally booked it! Margaret poured steaming tea into mugs. Im heading to Brighton for two weeks. The holiday package is paid for, everything sorted.
Oh, thats brilliant! Sarahs face lit up. Its been ages since youve taken a break. Three years, right?
Four, Margaret sighed. Ever since Mum fell ill I never managed to get away. Now the stars seem aligned: works calm, finances are tidy.
Exactly, you need to think of yourself sometimes, Sarah sipped her tea, then, thoughtful, added: Honestly, Im a bit jealous. Our house is a right mess the renovations turned everything upside down. Dust everywhere, builders from dawn till dusk, and the downstairs neighbours keep complaining about the noise. Its a nightmare.
Renovations are always a test, Margaret agreed. But once its done itll look lovely.
If we survive it, Sarah chuckled. Alex and the kids are already losing their minds over the chaos. We dream of escaping for a couple of weeks, but where? Hotels are pricey and staying with relatives is cramped.
Margaret set her spoon down and looked at Sarah. A thought sparked: why not ask Sarah to look after the flat while she was away? After all, someone would need to water the flowers and check that everything was alright.
Listen, Sarah, could you help me out? Stay at my place while Im at the sea? Water the plants, keep an eye on the flat. It would also give you a break from your own renovation.
Sarahs face brightened.
Really? Youre not joking? Margaret, that would be a lifesaver! I could pop over in the evenings after work. Honest word, everything would be perfect!
Stay as long as you need, Margaret waved her hand generously. Itll be easier for me knowing someones there. You never know what could happen.
They spent the rest of the night hashing out details when Margaret would leave, how to tend the orchids on the windowsill, how often to air the flat. Sarah seemed genuinely grateful and promised to treat the place with utmost care.
Just one thing, Mari, she said shyly as she was about to go, would you mind if I occasionally spent the night? When Im exhausted from all the trips up and down.
Of course not, Margaret shrugged. The bedrooms ready, the fridge stocked. Make yourself at home.
That phrase make yourself at home would later ring in Margarets ears with bitter irony.
On the day of departure Margaret met Sarah once more, handed over the keys and demonstrated the delicate routine for the temperamental orchid.
Dont worry about a thing, Sarah said, accepting the keys carefully. Enjoy your break, recharge, and Ill look after everything.
Margaret left with a light heart, unaware of what awaited her return.
Two weeks in Brighton flew by in a day. She tanned, lounged on the beach, swam to her hearts content, and even struck up a flirtatious chat with a charming bloke from the next hostel her first seaside romance in years. She sent Sarah a couple of pictures of the sea, and Sarah replied with short, warm messages: You look stunning! and Im green with envy!
When the taxi pulled up outside her block, Margaret felt a pleasant fatigue and a hint of melancholy that the holiday was ending. She climbed to the fourth floor, turned the lock, and froze on the doorstep, eyes wide.
The hallway was strewn with strangers shoes mens, womens, childrens. Unfamiliar coats hung on the pegs. From the flat came the murmur of a TV and someones laugh.
What on earth Margaret began, when suddenly Sarah popped out of the kitchen.
Oh, Mari! Youre back early? she exclaimed with feigned surprise. Weve been expecting you tomorrow.
Whats happening here? Margaret felt the floor drop beneath her. Why are there so many things in my flat? Whose shoes are these?
Well Sarah stammered. You did let me stay while you were away. So we we
We? Margaret stepped into the lounge and stopped dead. On her sofa sat Sarahs husband, Andrew Clarke, watching a football match. In an armchair a teenage boy, about fourteen, Daniel, scrolled on a tablet. And at the dining table an eightyearold girl, Poppy, was busy drawing.
Hello, Aunt Margaret, the little girl said politely.
Andrew looked up from the TV and nodded.
Hi, Margaret. How was the break?
What are you all doing here? Margarets voice trembled. I said you could occasionally stay over if you couldnt get home, not not move in with the whole family!
Margaret, calm down, Sarah replied softly, though a tension flickered in her eyes. You saw the chaos at our place. The kids cant stand it. We thought you wouldnt mind a bit of company one person or four. The flat was empty, and it helped us a lot.
A bit of company? Margaret scanned the room, noticing the changed décor. Her little porcelain figurines were gone, replaced by strangers photos in frames. A painting she didnt recognize hung on the wall. The curtains were now vivid blue, not the cream ones she loved.
Did you rearrange my flat? she asked, a lump forming in her throat. Where are my things?
We put them neatly in the storeroom, Sarah hurriedly assured. The kids needed space to play, to do homework. We just adapted the flat a little, nothing serious.
Adapted? Margaret could not believe her ears. This is my flat! My home!
Daniel, shut up, Sarah snapped at her son. Margaret, lets have a calm chat. Youre tired, lets have tea?
I dont want tea! Margarets anger boiled over. I want you all to pack up and leave my flat this instant!
A heavy silence fell. Andrew turned off the TV and rose.
Margaret, you dont understand, he began placating. Our renovations stuck, the builders say itll be at least another month. The kids cant stay there dust, chemicals, the works.
Thats not my problem, Margaret cut in. I never gave permission for an entire family to live in my flat. I asked Sarah only to water the plants and check that everything was okay.
But you did say, Stay as long as you need, make yourself at home, Sarah reminded.
I meant something entirely different, and you know it! Margaret clenched her fists. Pack up. You have an hour.
An hour? Andrew protested. Where would we go with the children at night?
Thats your issue, Margaret replied, unwavering. You should have thought before taking my flat without permission.
We didnt do it illegally! Sarah shouted. You gave us the key, you let us live here!
I gave you the key for one person, not for you all to move in, rearrange furniture and claim rights!
The argument grew louder. Poppy stared at the adults, frightened, while Daniel put on headphones to block it out.
You know what, Sarah suddenly straightened, arms crossed, we wont leave. By law, if someone hands over the key voluntarily, that counts as consent for residence. We have witnesses who can confirm you invited me to stay.
What?! Margaret was stunned. Witnesses? What witnesses?
Your neighbour, Mrs. Nina Peters, heard us on the landing when you handed me the key, Sarah continued calmly. You said, Stay as you like, use everything you need. Thats a statement she can testify to.
Margarets head spun. Could her best friend, someone she trusted unconditionally, twist her words like that? Threaten her, fabricate legal grounds?
Get out of my flat, she said quietly but firmly. Or Ill call the police.
Call them, Sarah shrugged. Theyll just confirm were here legally, staying with the owners consent.
Later that evening, Margaret found herself sitting in the police constables office, recounting the absurd episode. The officer, after hearing the story, shrugged again.
So you handed over the keys voluntarily, he mused. And you never had a written agreement about who could stay?
Of course not! Margaret exclaimed. I asked her to water the plants! Not to move in with the whole family! I would never have agreed to that!
Unfortunately, without any written terms, the situation is murky, the constable sighed. They can argue that you allowed temporary residence, and proving otherwise will be tough.
What now? Margaret asked, desperate. This is my flat! All my belongings, documents, medicines are here! And now I have to stay with my son because some people wont leave!
There are a few options, the officer opened a sheet of paper. First, I can speak to them and try to resolve it informally. Sometimes a neutral party is enough. Second, you could file a court claim for eviction. Third, you could try another round of negotiation, maybe offer them a deadline to find new accommodation.
A deadline? Margaret snapped. So they stay here while Im forced to crash at my sons?
Not exactly, the constable explained patiently. You could give them, say, a week to find somewhere else. The children are innocent, after all.
Margaret thought it over. She was furious with Sarah, yet she knew the children deserved a roof.
Fine, she said at last. Ill give them a week to relocate, but no more. And they must put everything back where it was and leave my things untouched.
The officer nodded and began to pack up.
When they arrived at Margarets block it was already around seven oclock. Sarah opened the door, visibly nervous at the sight of the constable.
Good evening, she said, stepping aside. Something happened?
Good evening, Mrs. Anderson, the officer replied formally. Ive been approached by the owner of this flat, Margaret Whitfield, who reports unlawful occupation. Could you explain?
In the living room the entire Anderson family gathered: Andrew, Daniel, and little Poppy. Their eyes flicked between the newcomers.
Unlawful? Andrew bristled. Margaret herself invited us!
No, she didnt, Margaret said firmly. I only asked Sarah to water my plants and check the flat occasionally. Nothing more.
And what about your stay as long as you need comment? Sarah interjected.
That was a figure of speech! Margaret retorted, her patience wearing thin. No sane person would interpret that as permission for a whole family to move in, rearrange furniture and claim rights!
The constable raised his hand, silencing the rising tension.
Heres the situation: the property owner demands you vacate. Even if there was an oral agreement, it can be withdrawn at any time, especially when the owners sole residence is at stake.
But we have nowhere to go! Andrew protested. Our renovations still ongoing!
Thats not the owners problem, the officer answered calmly. However, Margaret is willing to give you a week to find alternative accommodation. Thats generous, considering the circumstances.
Silence fell. Sarah exchanged a glance with Andrew, then hung her head.
Alright, she said quietly. One week. Well look for somewhere else.
And Ill be moving back in immediately, Margaret added. You may stay for the week, but you must return all my belongings to their original places and cease any further changes.
Sarah pursed her lips but nodded.
Ill stay a night to make sure the terms are kept, the officer offered, though he seemed unsure of the peace that would follow.
No need, Andrew said abruptly. We understand. Sorry, Margaret. We acted rashly. Sarah misread the situation, and I let it happen. Well restore everything and look for a new place. Honest word.
Margaret studied Andrews face; genuine remorse shone there. Perhaps he hadnt realised how badly theyd overstepped.
Very well, she said. I trust you, Andrew. I hope you keep your word.
The officer recorded the details, drafted a brief protocol of the agreement, and gave Margaret his contact number in case any trouble arose.
When he left, an uneasy quiet settled in the flat. Sarah fidgeted with the cuff of her sweater, avoiding Margarets gaze.
Why, Sarah? Margaret asked softly. After all these years, why did you do this to me?
Sarah lifted her eyes, brimming with tears.
I never meant any harm, I swear. When we got here, it was so tidy, so peaceful Our own house is a disaster. Dust, constant banging, the kids falling ill. This clean, empty flat seemed a perfect refuge. I thought, One person or four, theres room. Then, once we were in, I panicked to admit wed taken it without asking.
So you decided to tell me you had the right to live here? Margaret shook her head. You crossed every line, Sarah. You cant treat friends like that.
I know, Sarah whispered, head bowed. Im sorry. I was under a lot of stress from the renovation. When you returned earlier than expected I panicked and said the first thing that came to mind.
Daniel, lets pack up and go, the teenager said suddenly, removing his headphones. Im ashamed to be here.
Margaret stared at him, surprised at his unexpected sense of responsibility.
No, Daniel, you dont have to leave now, she said gently. Im giving you a week, but Im moving back in today. This is my home.
Of course, Andrew replied. Well take one room, youll have the other. Itll be fair. And well help put everything back where it belongs.
To Margarets astonishment, the Andersons spent the rest of the evening restoring the flat. They fetched the porcelain figurines from the storage cupboard, rehung the original photographs, repositioned the furniture, and even replaced the blue curtains with Margarets beloved cream ones. Sarah, though embarrassed, pitched in earnestly.
By nightfall the flat looked almost as it had before. Some items were still slightly out of place, and a few were missing, but the atmosphere felt reclaimed.
The Andersons set up a makeshift sleeping area in the living room parents on the sofa, Poppy on a pullout cot, Daniel sprawled on a rug. Margaret reclaimed her bedroom, slipping back into her own bed after two weeks of hotel sheets.
In the morning she woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. In the kitchenShe sipped the coffee, smiled at the tiny porcelain figurine on the mantel, and whispered that, despite everything, true friendship could still find its way back home.
