I let my friend stay the night, only to catch her rummaging through my things in the morning.
*”Where on earth do you think you’re going? It’s nearly midnight!”*
*”Mum, I told you! It’s Lucys birthdaywere just meeting at the café, and Ill get a taxi straight home. I promise!”*
Emily stood in the hallway, arms crossed, blocking her seventeen-year-old daughters path. Katie, already made up and wearing a new dress, shifted impatiently from foot to foot.
*”A taxi at this hour? Have you lost your mind? Its Saturday tomorrowsee her in the afternoon. Youre not going, and thats final.”*
*”Mu-um!”* Katie whined, her voice wobbling with the threat of tears. *”Everyone else is allowed! You dont trust me, do you? You still think Im a kid!”*
*”I think London at night is no place for a seventeen-year-old girl. End of discussion. Go to your room and change.”*
Katie shot her a furious glare, spun on her heel, and stomped off, slamming her bedroom door so hard the china in the cabinet rattled. Emily sighed heavily and trudged to the kitchen, her pulse still pounding from the argument. She knew Katie would sulk till morning, but letting her go was out of the question. Fear for her only daughter outweighed any desire to be the *”cool”* mum.
She flicked the kettle on and slumped onto a stool. The evening was ruined. Then, in the quiet flat, the phone rang. Emily picked it up reluctantly, bracing for complaints from her mother or another favour from the neighbour.
*”Hello?”* she said tiredly.
*”Em? Emily, is that you?”* The voice on the other end was achingly familiar but hadnt been heard in years, shaky with tears. *”Its Claire. Whitmore. Do you remember me?”*
Emily froze. Claire Whitmore? Her university best friend, whom life had pulled away from her fifteen years agofirst with rare calls, then just Christmas cards, then silence.
*”Claire? Of course I remember. Whats wrong? You sound”*
*”Emily, Im so sorry to call so late”* Claire sniffed. *”Ive got nobody else. Something awfuls happened”*
Between sobs, Claires story tumbled outa jumbled mess, but the gist was clear: her partner of ten years had kicked her out. Said hed met someone else. The flat was his, Claire had been working cash-in-hand for his business, and now she was literally on the street with just a bag and not a penny to her name.
*”Im at Kings Cross, Em,”* Claire whispered. *”I dont know what to do. Everyones turned their backs, and I cant face my parents Im too ashamed.”*
Emilys heart clenched. She pictured vibrant, confident Clairethe girl whod been the belle of their uni daysnow hunched on a grimy station bench, lost and alone. All her anger at Katie and the days exhaustion evaporated.
*”Claire, where exactly are you? Which station?”*
*”Kings Cross.”*
*”Right, listen. Dont move. Get a taxi and come to mine. Ill cover the fare.”*
*”Em, no, I dont want to intrude”*
*”No arguments!”* Emily cut in. *”You remember the address? Oak Road, number twelve?”*
*”I think so Flat forty-five?”*
*”Thats it. Ill wait.”*
Hanging up, Emily dashed around the flat, yanking clean sheets over the lumpy but serviceable sofa bed. Her chest felt strangely light. This was the right thing to do. Who else did Claire have?
An hour later, the doorbell rang. On the doorstep stood Claire. Emily barely recognised the hollow-eyed woman in the rumpled designer jacket, hair tangled, gripping a small duffel.
*”Em”* Claire choked out before collapsing into her arms, shaking with silent tears.
*”Shh, its alright,”* Emily murmured, patting her back. *”Come in. Youre freezing.”*
She led Claire to the kitchen, pouring strong tea. Claires hands trembled as she sipped.
*”Thank you. Id have been lost without you.”*
*”Dont be silly. Thats what friends are for,”* Emily said simply. *”Are you hungry? I can whip something up.”*
*”No, I couldnt eat. Just need to lie down.”*
Emily showed her to the sofa bed. *”Bathrooms there if you need it. Make yourself at home.”*
*”Thanks,”* Claire whispered again, sinking onto the mattress.
Emily crept to Katies room. Her daughter was already asleep, curled under the duvet. She smoothed her hair, kissed her forehead, and pushed their earlier row from her mind. Right now, Claire needed her. How had life battered her so badly? The girl whod had every bloke chasing hernow here, broken.
—
Dawn came too early. Emily tiptoed out, aiming for a quiet coffee before the others woke. Then she froze. Her bedroom door, which shed definitely shut, stood ajar. A faint rustling came from inside.
Her heart stalled. Katie? No, Katie was asleep. Claire? What was she doing in there at this hour?
Peering through the crack, Emilys blood ran cold. Claire knelt at her dresser, drawers pulled open, methodically sifting through her thingsnot just looking, but *searching.* She pulled out the old jewellery box (containing Mums earrings, the thin gold chain from late husband Andrew, a few silver rings), flipped it open, scowled at the contents, and shoved it back. Then she moved to the documents drawer.
Emilys vision darkened. This wasnt happening. The friend shed taken in out of pity was rifling through her belongings like a thief.
Should she storm in? Scream? Pretend shed seen nothing? She chose the latter, slinking back to bed, trembling under the covers. What was Claire after? Money? The jewellery? Why leave the box?
Minutes later, the rustling stopped. The door creaked shut. Silence. Then the sofa springs groaned. Claire was back in the living room.
Emily waited half an hour before forcing herself up. In the kitchen, Claire sat at the table, chin propped on her hand, staring out the window.
*”Morning,”* she said, turning. She looked exhausted. No hint of guilt.
*”Morning,”* Emily replied evenly, flipping the kettle on. Inside, she seethed. *”Sleep alright?”*
*”Yeah, thanks. Sofas comfy. Sorry if I woke youjust couldnt sleep.”*
*”Like hell you couldnt,”* Emily thought viciously. Aloud: *”No worries. Im an early bird too.”*
She made toast, watching Claire sidelong. The woman chatted easily, lamenting her exs betrayal, musing about job hunts and flat-shares.
*”Ive got interviews next week,”* Claire said. *”Maybe Ill land something, get a little place. I wont overstay my welcome.”*
*”Dont worry about it,”* Emily said automatically. *”Stay as long as you need.”*
She wanted to shout: *”What were you doing in my room?!”* But she bit her tongue. She needed to understand.
Katie appeared, eyeing Claire with suspicion.
*”Katie, this is Auntie Claire, my old uni mate. Shes staying a bit.”*
*”Hi,”* Katie said coolly.
*”Look at you, all grown up!”* Claire beamed. *”Last time I saw you, you were in a pram!”*
Katie shrugged, ignoring her. Over breakfast, she leaned in. *”Mum, whys she here?”*
*”Shes in a rough spot, love. I couldnt say no.”*
*”Shes weird,”* Katie muttered. *”Her eyes keep darting about.”*
Emily sighed. So she wasnt imagining it.
—
By Monday, Emilys nerves were frayed. Claires *”helpfulness”* (scrubbing floors, dusting shelves) felt performative. Worse, she kept probing about Andrew.
*”You never remarried after him?”* Claire asked, polishing the bookshelf.
*”Didnt work out,”* Emily said shortly.
*”Shame. He was a good one. All the girls fancied him.”*
Emily stiffened. Andrews heart attack ten years ago still ached.
That evening, she called their old uni friend, Olivia.
*”Claire Whitmores turned up. Says her bloke dumped her.”*
*”Claire? Bloody hell!”* Olivia paused. *”Em be careful.”*
*”Why?”*
*”Shes always had a streak. Remember the trip money that went missing? Lucy swore she saw Claire pocket it. And last I heard, she was deep in debtloan sharks and all.”*
Emilys stomach dropped. *Debt.* That explained the searching.
She came home early. The flat was silent. Then she found Claire in Katies room, flipping through an old photo albumAndrews pictures.
*”Put. It. Down,”* Emily hissed.
Claires mask slipped. *”Or what? Im desperate, Em! Youve got a home, a job, a kid. Andrew was always tight-fistedthought he mightve stashed something. Those old coins he collected”*
Emily recoiled. Andrew *had* dabbled in coin collectingworthless bits in a shoebox.
*”You used me,”* she whispered. *”All that cryingjust to rob me?”*
*”What choice did I have?”* Claire spat.
The front door openedKatie home from school. She took one look at them and froze.
*”Pack your things,”* Emily said coldly. *”Youve got ten minutes.”*
Claire left without another word. When the door slammed, Emily sank to the floor. Katie hugged her tight.
*”Told you she was dodgy.”*
*”I just we were friends,”* Emily choked out.
*”People change, Mum. Especially when moneys involved.”*
Sitting there, Emily realisedher real treasure wasnt in boxes or drawers. It was right beside her, holding her close.
