by Libby Page
But then she hears a buzz again and this time reaches into her apron pocket. She pulls out her phone and sees she has a message from her old housemate Lily, including an invitation to her daughter’s christening. If it was any other friend, Hannah would be surprised to receive a message at this hour. But Lily’s daughter Mabel is teething and over the past few months she and Hannah have had several late-night WhatsApp conversations, while Lily tries to soothe her daughter and Hannah works a late shift in the café.
‘How is she this morning?’ Hannah types.
‘A little devil,’ replies Lily, then, ‘You will come to the christening though, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ replies Hannah, ‘I’ll look up trains later.’
Lily no longer lives in London – when she left the Bounds Green house she moved back to her home town in Yorkshire. At first she stayed with her parents then eventually moved into a flat of her own. Writing to Lily, Hannah thinks with a pang back to when she still lived in Bounds Green, back when Lily was still there.
Although they were not as close with the other housemates as they were with each other, over time both Hannah and Mona came to know the other women well. They overheard the fierce arguments between Bemi and Sophie – Sophie accusing Bemi of having her girlfriend Anya round to visit far too often and saying she should contribute towards the bills and Bemi complaining at Sophie for her late-night practising sessions on her double bass. Despite the arguments they could also be thoughtful too, Bemi and Anya often cooking for the whole house (Anya was a wonderful cook) and Sophie always remembering birthdays, without fail. But to Hannah, Lily was always something of a mystery. She lived on the top floor of the house and Hannah was on the bottom, and even though the distance was only the length of two flights of stairs, it was enough to make a difference.
All she really knew about Lily while they lived together was that she was an artist and worked part-time in an art supply shop, and that she dressed in many baggy layers but always seemed to have bare feet, a silver anklet with a crescent moon charm dangling from her petite ankle. She had a nervous energy to her back then. One week, not long after Mona moved in, Lily set up a makeshift art corner in the living room, arguing that there was more space there and she needed the light. For several days she didn’t seem to leave the living room, painting frantically all day. One night, Hannah came through the living room to the downstairs bathroom at two in the morning and Lily was still there, staring at a canvas that was smeared in shades of red and orange that Hannah found alarming. Hannah knew some of the other housemates were getting frustrated by Lily’s takeover of the living room – she’d caught whispered snippets of conversations seeping out from not-quite-closed doors – but by the end of the week all Lily’s things had been packed away, the room returned to normal. The following week Lily barely left her room. Hannah soon found that these bursts of energy followed by extreme lethargy were normal. ‘She’s having a quiet night,’ Poppy would say when the housemates, hanging around in the kitchen making separate meals but chatting while they cooked, asked where Lily was. ‘Best to leave her to it,’ she would say, and most of the time they did.
As well as the arguments between Bemi and Sophie, other annoyances and fights became more common in the house: Sophie shouting at Hannah for spending too long in the shower, Bemi getting annoyed at the sounds of Mona’s strict morning workout. And being on the ground floor, Hannah and Mona were both woken up when someone started opening and closing the front door in the middle of the night. It happened at first just once, but then became a regular occurrence, interrupting their sleep. They assumed it was one of their housemates heading out on a late night ‘date’. Mona wanted Hannah to help her confront the others about it, but Hannah refused. So Mona brought it up one evening herself. Sophie took particular offence. ‘Are you calling me a whore?’ she had shouted at Mona, who had shouted back in a dramatic voice, ‘Don’t be so theatrical.’
Then food started to go missing from the fridge and freezer, causing endless passive-aggressive Post-it notes and accusatory conversations. There was one particularly heated argument about a missing frozen lasagne that belonged to Bemi.
‘It’s just a lasagne,’ Hannah had said, trying to play peacekeeper.
‘But it belonged to me, Anya cooked it,’ shouted Bemi, ‘I was saving it. I’ve had a long shift, I was looking forward to it.’
‘Maybe it was a mistake,’ suggested Hannah.
‘A mistake? Oh whoops, I’ve just eaten an entire lasagne that doesn’t belong to me. My mistake!’
No one admitted to the theft and Bemi stormed to her room, shutting the door so firmly that the thin walls rattled.
Looking back, Hannah realises the tension that had grown in the house for months could only go on for so long. Something had to give. In the end, someone had to leave.
Lily was the first to go. Really, it had been a long time coming. Once it all came out and Lily decided to pack her things it seemed so obvious. But in a house of six women, secrets were easy to hide.
*
Hannah has learnt to give Lily space – they all have. When she is painting she prefers to be left alone and Hannah and the other housemates respect this. That’s Lily – she is quiet and happy in her own company. It’s just who she is.
So, when late one night Hannah is woken by the front door again and gets up quickly, careful not to wake Mona, she is shocked by what she sees in the living room. Lily is standing by the door to the kitchen. The light in there is on but the living room is dark. Lily stands in a frame of bright white light between the two rooms. One hand grips on to the frame of the door, the other holds a pair of trainers, her socked feet planted on the kitchen tiles. Her face is damp with sweat. She is dressed in running leggings and a tight Lycra top, and as Hannah looks at her, she realises she has never seen Lily in anything other than the loose, draping styles she favours. She suddenly understands why. What Hannah thought was just Lily’s style has been a way to hide the truth. Silhouetted by the bright white kitchen lamp she looks like a flickering shadow, close to disappearing, a person faded and rubbed out at the edges. She pauses between the two rooms and Hannah sees a woman on the threshold: life and brightness behind her but only darkness ahead. As Lily spots Hannah her eyes widen and she reaches for the hooded jumper tied around her waist, quickly covering her body again. But as she reaches to pull it over her head Hannah sees the veins in her thin arms and the protruding collar bones that slice across her chest like knives. She sees the way her arms shake with the effort of lifting them above her head, and her hip bones that are visible above the line of her leggings as her top rises. In the baggy jumper she looks almost like Lily again, except she is shaking. Her face is twisted in a look of pain and terror that Hannah has never seen before.
‘What’s going on?’ says Hannah quietly, aware of Mona sleeping just down the corridor, and the others in their rooms upstairs. Part of her wants to shout, to wake them all, or Mona at the very least. She doesn’t know what to do and wants someone else to bear witness to what is happening. She wants a grown-up, knowing how ridiculous that seems, aged twenty-five. But Lily looks so afraid that she remains quiet.
‘It’s three in the morning,’ says Hannah, her eyes flicking to the clock on the kitchen wall behind Lily’s head, ‘What are you doing?’
‘I … I,’ Lily falters, staring at the shoes in her hand and then back at Hannah, but without meeting her eyes, ‘I just went on a little run. I couldn’t sleep.’
‘How often does this happen?’ asks Hannah, already knowing the answer. It was months ago that she was first woken by the door in the middle of the night.
‘It’s only been a few times,’ says Lily, still looking down.
As Hannah watches her she realises how sunken her eyes have become, something she is ashamed to admit she hadn’t noticed until now.
‘How far do you go?’ Hannah asks, trying to remain calm.<
br />
‘Oh, not very far,’ replies Lily. But as she reaches for the doorframe again and grips it tightly, Hannah realises she is struggling to stand.
‘You should sit down,’ says Hannah, ‘I’ll get you something to eat and a sugary drink.’
But as Hannah moves as though to head into the kitchen Lily reaches her other hand for the frame so that she is blocking the door.
‘I’m fine,’ she says, her voice hardening, ‘It’s nothing.’
‘It’s not nothing,’ says Hannah.
‘Honestly, I’m fine,’ snaps Lily again, ‘And anyway, I just want to go to bed. I’m sure I will sleep better now. As I said, it’s just to help me sleep.’
Hannah stares at her a little longer. She wants to question her more, to get to the bottom of what has been going on, but Lily is probably right – she certainly does look like she needs the sleep. And Hannah is tired too, too tired and caught off guard to think clearly about what to do. She’ll talk to Lily again in the morning, and if she doesn’t get anywhere, she’ll tell Mona and Poppy.
‘Please,’ says Lily, quietly now, ‘Can I just go to bed?’
‘Fine,’ replies Hannah. She steps aside and Lily walks slowly through the living room. Hannah can tell she is trying to walk normally but she is unsteady on her feet. As Lily climbs the stairs to her top floor room her footsteps make no sound at all.
The next morning when Hannah wakes she knocks on Lily’s door, but Poppy, who is just heading out of her room opposite, tells her Lily has already left for work. Hannah has to get to work too, and while she is there her mind is distracted by coffee orders, difficult customers and the news from Pablo that his daughter is getting married.
But later that evening it all comes crashing back to her. She is just back from her shift and is sat in the living room with Bemi and Sophie. They’d been deciding on a film to watch but so far haven’t been able to choose one they all wanted. Instead the three of them are sat on the sofas and chairs scrolling through their phones.
‘Whose soup is this?’ shouts Poppy from the kitchen, stepping into the living room holding a pot of leek and potato soup in her outstretched arm. Bemi and Sophie look up from their phones but back down again.
‘It’s mine,’ says Hannah, jumping up from the sofa.
‘Can you move it off my shelf and onto your own? I’ve just done a big food shop and need the space.’
‘I put it on Lily’s shelf – Mona and I ran out of space on ours so I asked her and she said it was fine.’
‘It’s not on Lily’s shelf, it’s on mine,’ says Poppy.
Hannah feels her stomach twisting at the sound of Lily’s name. She follows Poppy into the kitchen, the others watching as she leaves. Poppy opens the fridge door and points at the top shelf.
‘Everything on here is mine,’ she says.
Hannah peers inside the fridge, looking at the contents of the top shelf: a bag of spinach, a packet of stir-fry veg, a pot of yoghurt, a packet of chicken – all things she has seen Poppy eating, now she thinks of it.
‘Where’s Lily’s shelf then?’ Hannah asks.
Poppy points at the one below it.
‘That one.’
Hannah shakes her head, ‘No, that’s the one that Mona and I share.’
Poppy’s face drops for second.
‘Maybe the one below that?’
Hannah shakes her head again, ‘No, that’s Bemi’s – I remember borrowing something from there the other week.’
Poppy holds open the fridge door, the light inside shining on the pale inside of her arm. She looks up and her eyes meet Hannah’s.
‘Can you come in here a sec, guys?’ Poppy calls into the living room. Bemi and Sophie shuffle into the small kitchen and Poppy gets them to point out their shelves in the fridge. They seem irritated, but they each claim their shelf until there is no space left in the fridge.
‘What’s going on?’ Bemi says, her face shifting from irritation to confusion.
Poppy and Hannah look at each other again and Hannah’s heart starts to race as she realises what it means. Nothing in the fridge belongs to Lily. In horrifyingly high speed, this and the events of last night fit together until Hannah is confronted with the picture that has been right there for months, unnoticed. Poppy must be coming to the same conclusion because she seems frantic, nothing like her usual cheerful self.
‘Open the cupboards,’ she says, almost shouting now. The housemates glance at each other but follow Poppy’s orders. Poppy stands by and watches in dazed horror as Hannah, Sophie and Bemi open their cupboards one by one. Boxes of cereal, packets of biscuits, half-open bags of rice that spill grains as the cupboards are opened, tubs of Nutella and chocolate spread … The contents of all the cupboards are carefully inspected and claimed. Poppy’s wholegrain pasta and brown rice, Bemi’s pot noodles and cans of tuna, Sophie’s porridge oats and packets of Mini Cheddars. Hannah speaks for herself and for Mona, who is at work; they shop together so she knows everything that belongs to her. Eventually, they run out of cupboards. Every shelf and every piece of food is claimed by someone in the room.
Bemi and Sophie look back and forth between each other as Poppy stands in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, silent but starting to tremble slightly.
‘So, nothing in this entire kitchen belongs to Lily?’ she says.
The housemates look at each other, and back at Poppy.
‘Not one single thing?’ she says, her voice suddenly very quiet.
Everyone is silent.
‘We’re probably overreacting,’ says Sophie, ‘I’m sure Lily can explain.’
‘It’s probably nothing,’ says Bemi, but her voice is full of hesitation. That’s when Hannah decides to speak.
‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,’ she says, talking quickly as though letting out a guilty secret, ‘Something that happened last night. I thought it was nothing, but it now seems to make sense.’
So she tells them about catching Lily back from a night-time run, about how unwell she looked in her exercise clothes, about how, guessing from how long Hannah has been disturbed by the sound of the door, these runs must have been going on for a long time. As she speaks she watches the faces of her housemates, as, like her, they begin to understand. It begins to make sense. The lethargy, the baggy clothes and Lily’s general absence from the house, from life in general.
Poppy shakes her head, her face drained of all colour. It’s the first time Hannah has ever seen her like this: not sunny, or distracted, but afraid. She looks younger: a child seeing the ugliness of the adult world for the first time.
‘She’s my friend,’ she says in a small voice.
The others watch her, no one seeming to know what to say.
‘She’s my friend,’ Poppy repeats, ‘And I had no idea. What kind of a person am I? I should have known.’
That’s when Hannah steps forward, wrapping her arms around Poppy’s shaking body.
‘It’s OK,’ she says as the other housemates look on, ‘It’s not your fault.’
But despite her words and the strength with which she hugs Poppy, inside she wonders. Why didn’t Poppy know? Why didn’t any of them know? As she hugs Poppy and Bemi and Sophie say softly that it will be all right, Hannah realises that it isn’t all right. And that, although she would never say it out loud, perhaps Poppy has a point. They should have known. She thinks of Lily, imagining her shut away alone in her room, picturing her in the living room last night, her body exhausted and her eyes wild as she told Hannah it wasn’t what it looked like. She thinks of Lily’s gentle smile and the frenzied painting in shades of orange and red that stuck with Hannah long after the canvas disappeared from the living room. And although no one else says it, Hannah can hear the words resting in the air in the house where the cupboards are full but their housemate has been starving: oh Lily, we have
let you down.
*
At first Lily was defensive. Poppy and Hannah confronted her together and explained what they had learnt, and that they felt she needed help.
‘There has obviously been a problem for a long time now,’ said Poppy, sitting next to Lily on her bed, the sheets covered in a daisy print similar to one Hannah remembers having as a child, ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t notice sooner.’
‘There’s nothing to notice,’ said Lily tersely, wrapping her knees up to her chest and almost disappearing within the folds of her oversized top, ‘I’m fine.’
When they pressed her she grew angry, shouting at them that they were spying on her, that they didn’t know what they were talking about, that they weren’t her friends, they didn’t care about her.
That first conversation didn’t go anywhere: Lily withdrew inside herself and eventually went out, slamming the front door behind her. For the next couple of days Hannah, Poppy and the others tried talking to Lily about it again. At first they were all met with the same response – denial, fiery anger and sharp words that left them stinging. But eventually she gave in. It was Poppy whom she finally confided in, but Poppy told Hannah and Mona what she had said. That it had been happening for a long time now – the starving and the secrets. How she was too afraid to have food in the house, so stopped going food shopping, but would occasionally be so painfully hungry that she would take something from the fridge or freezer, anything, feeling wracked with guilt as soon as she finished eating. She went on her first run after stealing a handful of cereal from Hannah and Mona’s cupboard. She went late at night so that no one would see her. At first the runs were relatively short, but they became longer and more frequent. 5K, 6K, 10K. On the night that Hannah found her in the kitchen, she told Poppy, she had just run 20K. Lily told Poppy that she had been taking her running gear to a local launderette, not wanting the housemates to see her exercise clothes drying in the house and know how often she had been going.