Heather leaned casually against the building wall, mentally cursing herself for arriving early. What would her flatmates be like? Only time would tell.

A young boy, dragging a suitcase and a rucksack behind him, was crossing the street. Seeing Heather’s suitcase at her feet, he reached the (correct) conclusion that she was one of his new flatmates.

“Hi,” he said, dropping his suitcase near the door and walking towards her. “I’m Andre’.”

“I’m Heather,” Heather replied. “Do you by any chance have a key to the house?”

“No, sorry. The landlord told me he’s passed the keys on to one of the girls -I thought you had them, actually.”

“If I had keys, do you honestly think I’d stand here waiting?” Heather smiled.

Both of them slumped against the wall, Heather surreptitiously eyeing Andre’. He was tall, slim and fair, with baby blue eyes. He wore skin tight black jeans and a football shirt, with football shoes on his feet. Great. A football fiend.

Andre’ was studying Heather objectively. He saw a small, alarmingly thin eighteen year old, wearing blue jeans with the cuffs turned up, and a white sweater. Her dark red hair fell unchecked to her shoulders.

Their third flatmate appeared. He looked about twenty five, with gelled, spiked black hair. From the moment he arrived, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Heather. Realising the effect she had on him, Heather flicked her hair back casually.

“I-I’m Ron,” the new guy stuttered, dropping his rucksack at his feet and extending his hand.

“Heather,” Heather said, shaking his hand.

Andre’ made no move to introduce himself, but busied himself watching Heather and Ron talk. Ron was making it alarmingly obvious that he was incredibly drawn towards Heather, but Heather was giving out “I’m not interested” vibes. This little drama would be incredibly fun to watch.

“Are you my flatmates?” A tiny voice asked. A young girl stood in front of them, a key dangling from her fingers.

“Well, if that keys opens that door,” Andre’ joked, pointing, “then I’d say you probably are. By the way, I’m Andre’, and these are Heather and Ron.”

“I’m Carly,” the girl said, slotting the key into the keyhole.

As soon as they’d dragged all their bags into the house, Ron wandered into the kitchen, while the other three shot off to choose bedrooms.

Carly instantly fell in love with the room overlooking the garden, so they let her have it. Next to Carly’s room was a larger one, then a bathroom, then another large room.

“Shall we take these?” Andre’ grinned.

“Let’s just have a look at what Ron’s going to be left with,” Heather suggested. As soon as they saw it, the duo collapsed with laughter. It was approximately the same size as Carly’s room, but it overlooked the back yard -a mess!

Carly instantly got started on her unpacking, but Ron, who had been about to go explore the house, thought better of his decision when Andre’ and Heather walked into the kitchen.

As they ransacked the cupboards, Andre’ noticed that Ron was ogling Heather raptly -something that Heather sensed, because she abruptly stood up and announced that she was going to unpack.

Ron left to make copies of the house key and Andre’ dashed up the stairs. Heather’s door was closed.

“Can I come in?” Andre’ called softly.

“Yeah, but you’re stepping into a mess,” Heather warned. Andre’ walked in and sat on the bed.

“You’re not making much headway with your unpacking, are you?” he joked.

“Not at all,” Heather agreed. The only organized thing was the desk, which already had books lined up neatly on the shelf and a framed photo.

“You’ve only been here for half an hour, and you’ve already driven one guy nuts,” Andre’ said conversationally.

“It’s attention I could do without,” Heather said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I can already tell you what type he is: aggressive, thinks he’s God’s gift to women and calls his friends to brag about how many women he’s slept with. Just wait and you’ll see I’m right.”

“Well, it’ll probably be really funny when you introduce him to your boyfriend,” Andre’ laughed. Heather blushed.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she told him quietly.

“Sorry,” Andre’ apologised. “I assumed that, judging by the way you’ve stunned Ron, you’ve got dozens of guys running after you.”

“That’s not the point,” Heather stated. “My point is that I don’t want anyone to show any interest.”

Andre’ walked over to the frame.

“Who’s this?” he asked. The photo showed a laughing four year old.

“My daughter,” Heather answered.

“A parent is the last thing I’d have imagined you to be,” Andre’ admitted.

“Well, it’s not a role I feel comfortable in,” Heather said. “Don’t you have to finish unpacking?”

Andre’ smiled.

“Okay, I can take a hint.”

Ten minutes later, Heather knocked on his door.

“Finished unpacking yet?” he asked her.

“Yes.” She walked over to the dresser, where Andre’ had put a framed photo of a guy.

“Your boyfriend?”

“How did you guess?”

“I’m good at guessing,” Heather shrugged. She settled down on the bed.

“You know what?” Andre’ asked. “You seem like the only sane person in this flat.”

“That’s just what I thought,” Heather said. “But I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you that.”

Andre’ swatted her mercilessly with a pillow.

Eventually, they settled down to a question and answer session. Andre’ started.

“What’s your daughter’s name?”

Heather giggled. “That’s not a proper question!”

“Yeah, it is! I’ve been dying to know!”

“Arianna. Now how about you tell me your boyfriend’s name?”

“Josh.”

They both looked at each other.

“You’ve got loads of questions for me, right?” Heather asked.

“Exactly. And I bet you do, too. Start talking, then it’ll be my turn.”

“Okay. I first met Luke when I was thirteen and he was seventeen. He asked me to go out with him once, and I, like the naïve idiot I was then, gratefully accepted. When I got there, I realised that all his friends were there too. Then everything’s just a blur, until I woke up and found myself in a hotel room with Luke and all his friends” her voice broke off.

“You don’t have to continue,” Andre’ said slipping an arm round her shoulders.

“You’re the only person whom I’ve actually told the story to,” she said.

“What about your friends?”

“They didn’t even want to listen. Luke was practically a god to them.”