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I’m not sure what I thought life out of the flat would be like – maybe exciting work days followed by nights having drinks in cool bars, meeting new people and dancing till morning with Lara. In reality, I retreated after the team drinks and haven’t been out since. This seemed much easier in my head. I was still waking up often through the night, with panicked pains in my chest, and going into work foggy and unfocused. I’d fallen into the ritual of packing up my stuff and then unpacking every other night, each time intending to go back home to Jasper, which was crazy as I couldn’t even bring myself to phone him.
I also completely underestimated what it would be like moving in with Caleb. I heard that he had a bit of a reputation and had dated extensively within the company and the building, but I didn’t understand quite how much. If he was so bad, why did they keep giving in? It was a rude awakening to discover that people actually live like this. If I wasn’t waking up to him coming in with someone new at the wrong side of midnight, I was usually meeting a new face over coffee the next morning.
Thankfully, his Wednesday evening training means Thursday mornings are guaranteed to be visitor-free. The rest of the week is completely unpredictable. I’m meeting more colleagues at home than I did at my company induction. I’ve learned very quickly to keep my eyes open but my mouth shut.
When I said hello at work to a girl I recognised, she smiled tightly and rushed off. Caleb came home that night and set me straight, admitting he had similararrangementswith a few ladies in the building. He actually congratulated himself for being effectively discreet.
When I accused him of being immoral, he happily explained that he was honest with everyone, they knew the score and signed up willingly. He then claimed to be a feminist, helping women exercise their right to sleep with him, with no judgement and no social constraints, as would have been the case in a more serious relationship.
This is who I am living with.
I’m having a quiet night when the doorbell goes and I open it. I am greeted with the massive chest of a worryingly large man in the doorway. I have to look up to see his face.
‘Hi,’ I say nervously. ‘Can I help you?’
He looks confused. ‘Is Rachel here?’
‘No, sorry, wrong door.’ I smile as I start to close the door.
That’s when I spot the long metal pipe by his foot. I panic and try to shut the door, but he wedges his foot in. I quickly turn and put all my weight against it as my heart slams against my chest. ‘I’m calling the police!’ I scream at him, using my heels to wedge my body against the door.
‘I know she’s in there! I just want to talk to her.’
I push back harder against the door, reach into my back pocket for my phone and start to dial.
‘Rachel!’ He sounds like a wounded animal.
‘There’s no one here called Rachel!’ I shout.
How is 999 busy? I don’t know if Caleb is home, but I imagine if I drop a guy’s name he might take off. ‘Caleb! Can you come out here please?’
The man starts to laugh, unexpectedly. ‘Yeah, come out here, Caleb!’ he shouts. ‘And bring my girlfriend with you.’ His voice breaks and it hits me. I stop pushing against the door, but stand firmly in front of it.
‘I’m sorry, he’s not here.’
‘Yes, he is. I followed them into the building and your neighbour downstairs sent me straight up here.’
‘I still can’t let you in, especially not with that,’ I say, pointing to the pipe.
He kicks it away. ‘Can I come in now?’
I see him holding back tears and my heart breaks for him.
‘Sorry, no, you’re frightening, but if you move your foot and let me close the door I’ll check to see if she’s here? I promise I’ll be right back.’
He nods and removes his foot, resigned.
I close the door and run to knock on Caleb’s door. ‘Caleb, do you have a girl in there?’ I whisper.
No response. I carefully try the door. It’s locked. I know for sure he is in there because our doors can only be locked from the inside.
‘Caleb, can I talk to you please?’ I whisper a little louder.
No response.
‘Please can you send her out?’
Nothing.
