The one good thing about returning to the hostel later is finding their bedroom door repaired, complete with shiny hinges. Vanya decides not to dwell on how futile that is or how it’s only a matter of time before someone breaks in again. Dread can grow like a vine, he knows, if he lets it twist around every waking moment, so he hurries, only entering the room for a moment. He finds his tea things and is absently picking specks of mould from the last of his bread when he walks in on another repair in progress in the kitchen.

Kaspar’s finally made a move on his crush.

He hugs Anna beside a greasy oven that should be condemned, next to a fridge that always smells of sour milk, and dips his head to murmur. Vanya doesn’t need to hear what he says to Anna; his quiet rumble suggests the same in any language. It’s a private moment in this house so full of strangers, a scene of care and consolation that he can’t look away.

The tenderness on his friend’s face only deepens after Anna whispers something. Vanya sees the exact moment tenderness turns to resolve when he speaks over her shoulder. “They tried to get in her room again.”

“Why? There can’t be anything left to take from her.” Vanya hears his mistake as soon as he speaks—it’s right there in the way Kaspar’s embrace tightens.

Of course there’s something left to steal from this woman.

Anna’s back stiffens like she knows it.

“You should stay in our room again,” he urges.

Kaspar nods. “Yes. Do that. Stay with us for as long as you want. I know it’s not a long-term solution, not like moving somewhere safer would be….” Kaspar asks Vanya a question rather than dwell on their lost deposit. “Tell me, how was your dirty builder?”

“Fine.” Better than Vanya expected. Meeting Jason was an unexpected bright spot after so many dull days. An unconscious smile curves, only to fade when Kaspar asks, “Did he pay you?”

“Not yet.” Right now he regrets not taking the cash Jason offered, no matter his fear of deportation. “I will. I’ll see him tomorrow and ask for enough cash to get new locks fitted, at least. Padlocks will make the doors much stronger.”

“No,” Anna pulls out of Kaspar’s embrace. She’s nowhere close to weepy despite another attempted break in that must have scared her witless. Instead, she’s white with anger. “We can’t do anything to make our rooms safer. And there’s no point going to the police. They don’t want to listen or do anything about the Brits who break in. No one wants to know about that, but if I added extra locks to my door, I could be arrested. It’s called ‘damage to property.’”

Like a pin to a balloon, her anger deflates swiftly.

“The girls in the room next to me tried it. I came home one day, and they were gone. Cautioned by the cops and then thrown out.” Her fingers curl around Kaspar’s. “I hoped we’d get a place together, but I don’t know where they are now.”

And that’s so true of his time in Britain that Vanya can’t help nodding.

Complete strangers form alliances in stressful living situations, banding tightly together to improve their chances. He knows he’s very lucky that his own alliance has lasted while he has so little to offer.

He thinks about that later as he tries to sleep top-to-tail with Kaspar in a room that barely houses one person, let alone three adults.

As minutes take hours to pass, his thoughts circle just as slowly.

Something Anna said echoes in time with the thud of dance music from the next floor.

My friends were banned from other hostels.

A couple quarrel in the room above them, their baby whimpering before wailing.

The only option they had left was to squat in an empty building.

He’s still thinking about it when sleep finally, uneasily, finds him.

* * *

It’s early the next morning when Vanya mentions a solution to their housing problem. However, the moment he says, “I heard about an empty building,” he wishes he kept his mouth shut.

Jason seems like a nice guy.

Sharing part of his private conversation feels wrong.

But recalling his words is like trying to dam floodwater. It doesn’t matter that second thoughts rise tide-like and relentless as Kaspar and Anna ask him questions. Neither of them can know he’s already waist deep in regret, his conscience slowly sinking, only buoyed a little by the strength of Anna’s tight hug.

The brightness of an autumn morning shines new light on his hasty offer.

Why did I open my mouth? he asks himself over and over, as they hurry to the Tube station.

The wan expression Anna woke up wearing shouldn’t matter to him, nor should the way it lightened at the sight of Kaspar’s fearsome bedhead. Yet as he walks beside her, Vanya can’t help noticing how she keeps glancing his way, her smile grateful like he’s already done something special for her. He gets to see that same gratitude up close as they travel beneath the streets of London, their party of three separated by crowds of tourists.

Anna leans close to avoid getting a face full of a tourist’s rucksack, and she speaks directly to him. “So a man is really paying you to dress him?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you know a lot about fashion?”

Her tone of disbelief startles a small laugh from him. “I know a lot more than him. Although I guess you wouldn’t know so today.” His shirt is washed out, the rip in his skinny jeans left by a prior owner.

“You could get away with calling your look eclectic.” She touches where buttons are missing from his jacket. “Let me fix these for you later. I have some lovely buttons at work. She quickly unfastens a Union Jack badge from her lapel, securing it so it sits snugly before repeating the same actions with another of her badges. When she’s done, the blue-black-white of the Estonian flag sits directly above Britain’s. “There. Now you’re fashion forward.” She touches the collar of his jacket. “You know, some braiding would look good here? I could patch your jeans too, if you wanted.”

Trading favours is a currency he’s well aware of. “You don’t have to do anything for me. I haven’t done anything for you.”

“You didn’t have to share your room,” she says quietly. Then she tilts up her chin. “You’d be doing me a favour if you let me loose on your clothes. I get so bored at work hemming wedding dresses. Fixing up your stuff would be fun, I promise. A way for me to thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for yet. The place we’re looking for might be no good.” Unease has him adding, “We might not even find it.” He regrets saying so when her face tightens.

“I hope we do.” She pauses before changing the subject. “Kaspar says you’ll be granted asylum any day now.”

Vanya attempts a smile, but lately that possibility seems further away rather than closer. The last official at the immigration office promised nothing, his bored gaze skimming over photos that still turned Vanya’s stomach. Now, in the stark light of morning, looking for somewhere to squat seems like complete madness.

The train lurches, but that’s not why he feels queasy.

Is he really about to risk his chances?

She must see his change in pallor. “Are you worried they won’t grant it? Asylum, I mean.”

He can’t contemplate it. There’s no other option for him.

“I think it will be okay, as long….” His next words come out in a hurry. “As long as I don’t break any rules.” It’s the one thing that stopped him from taking Jason’s money when he offered. Leaving the hostel feels as risky.

“Wait.” She stumbles against him when the train takes a corner, leaning against him as she asks, “Does it matter where you live?” Hope disappears between blinks after he shrugs.

He recites Home Office guidelines he knows by heart. “I have to keep a registered address. So….”

It doesn’t matter that the Tube train lights choose that moment to dim and flicker—her expression brightens so fast they aren’t required to see it. “Oh! That’s no problem!” she promises. “That just means they need a contact address for you. All you need to do is keep going back to the hostel. Pick up your post once a week or something. If anyone there asks where you’ve been, say you were visiting friends. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”

He nods.

“Okay. That will work at the squat too, if we decide to move in. Should anyone find us there, we’ll say we’re only visiting.”

That could work, as well.

“We’d still have rooms at the hostel as evidence of an official address, so there’s nothing to worry about. If this place is okay, we should go ahead and move in.” She verbally stumbles. “Un-unless… I mean… I’m assuming you’re okay with me coming with you two.”

Vanya glances down the carriage to where Kaspar watches from a distance. There’s no way he can hear their conversation, but his gaze doesn’t waver from this girl who asks such a simple favour.

Selfishness is another flash flood.

Its waters rise once they leave the train to climb stairs to the street level.

He’s so distracted that he walks into Kaspar.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” he says before he grasps Vanya’s shoulder. “What’s with the long face?” He peers even closer. “Getting out of the hostel is good, so why do you look so unhappy?”

“I’m not unhappy.” Vanya compounds that lie with another. “I’m fine.”

He trails behind them as they search for the address Jason mentioned, noticing how Kaspar keeps Anna close to him the whole time, matching his pace with hers and lightly touching her elbow each time they cross the street. He finally slips his arm around her when they get to the mouth of a narrow alley.

Worry meets excitement when Anna says, “Do you think this is the right place?” She takes a few steps into the gap between buildings before grasping Vanya’s hand, gently like she can tell he’s nervous. “Shall we at least take a look now that we’re here?”

Vanya can’t make himself answer.

It’s not worry about breaking the rules that causes his hesitation, this time.

No, it’s a much deeper dread that hurtles out of nowhere.

The last time he took the hand of a virtual stranger to follow them down an alley like this, he hadn’t been able to walk out.

The sound of traffic fades as his heartbeat thunders, and a surge of fear has him yanking his hand free. There’s no blood on the hand he holds up and no boot to the back of his knee this time to send him sprawling, but still his vision speckles. Sweat—slick and sudden—dampens the small of his back as he tries to talk himself down, like Kaspar has so often.

He isn’t lying in a pool of blood and piss right now.

He’s safe in London.

Vanya covers his face with his hands and tries to pull himself together.

His nose isn’t freshly broken today, his cheekbone intact instead of fractured. Instead of being knife-sharp, time has dulled the chip in his tooth, and none of the fingers covering his face need splinting. Now that his eardrums aren’t perforated, he can hear what Kaspar says just fine and can nod easily without a neck brace to hinder his movements.

“I’m fine,” he lies again

“No, Ivanushka. You’re really not.” Kaspar hauls him close like a brother, his hug as rough as his whisper. “I forgot, I’m sorry.” He curses softly. “Of course anywhere down an alley like this won’t work out for you. I don’t know what I was thinking. We’ll all go back together, right now.”

Anna stands a few feet behind him, confusion veiling her expression that barely clears when she takes a good look at him. “You’re very pale.” This time her inspection of his jacket isn’t limited to its missing buttons. “That’s not really thick enough for the weather.”

“What?”

“You’re shaking. You must be cold. We just walked past a coffee shop. Want me to get you one to warm your hands?”

It’s a show of genuine concern that snaps his panic cleanly.

“No.” He leans on Kaspar and pulls himself together, as much as he’s able while phantom hands still crush his windpipe. “I’m not cold.” He draws in a breath that shudders. “I’ll be okay in a minute.” He blows out a slow exhale, adrenaline gradually ebbing. “We’ve come this far. Let’s see what this place looks like.”

They search the alley until they find the window leading to a stairwell that Jason described. Netting hides it, shrouding steel-pole scaffolding abandoned long enough that plants now climb it. And just like Jason told his client over the phone, they find the only floor that isn’t locked at the top of the staircase.

The break room they enter is huge in comparison to the cramped room he and Kaspar share at the hostel. Dusty red couches flank one section while tables and chairs fill another. A flip chart stands between them, listing phrases Vanya silently sounds out. Up sell and conversion rates mean very little to him, like the point system beside those words, but Anna says, “It’s a call centre!” like she’s certain.

“It’s much better than I imagined,” Vanya can’t help saying. Cold water flows when he turns a tap in a small kitchen area. He crosses to a tall window where Anna and Kaspar join him. Behind this building is the old warehouse Jason mentioned. It too is abandoned, a sight that silences them all.

He wonders if they share the same thoughts.

So much space standing empty in this city.

So many vacant rooms when the hostel is beyond overcrowded.

Vanya turns to survey the break room. “This place is a lot better than where we are now.” He’s almost sorry to admit it. “It’s great,” but he’s still doubtful.

“Listen.” Kaspar slides an arm over his shoulder, careful, oh so careful, like Vanya might startle. Then he lifts his other arm until Anna slides beneath it. “I know getting here was hard for you, but staying here might be worth pushing past that. Being here could buy us some time.”

“It’s not the alley.” Vanya can’t keep in his worry. “It… it feels like stealing.”

Kaspar’s grip tightens slightly. “I get it. I really do. Like I understand that’s the real reason you came home yesterday with no money. That guy tried to pay you, didn’t he?” When Vanya nods he says, “I guessed as much. But what happened yesterday to our belongings was real theft. Staying here would only be borrowing space that no one else is using.”

He turns them towards the window again. “Think of the bigger picture. This only needs to be temporary until I replace my papers and we save more money. It doesn’t matter one bit to me if you don’t want to see that guy again or take any of his money. Now there are three of us, Anna and I can pool resources faster, and you can pay us back later once you’re granted asylum and can work legally, like us.” His voice lowers as he lets Vanya go. “All we’ll need is a few weeks.”

Vanya explores the space once more. Now that his panic has receded, a short-term future here is tempting. Those couches are long enough to sleep on. And they could move these wheeled partitions, carve up the space so they at least had the illusion of privacy.

“Want to know the best thing about staying?” Kaspar murmurs, his voice low and persuasive. “No one can steal our food here.”

Vanya’s laugh is a forced huff. “What food?” He’s got used to being hungry, but it would be nice to think spare food would stay put for once, if he could afford more.

“Think about it,” Kaspar insists. “We’ll be out of here as soon as I can sign a lease. A few weeks, that’s all, Ivanushka. A few weeks to save hard.” His tone sobers. “But you don’t need to be part of that, if you’re truly worried.”

It’s a truth that’s icy. Goose pimples prickle Vanya’s chest without warning at the thought of Kaspar leaving him at the hostel alone.

He and Anna don’t need his agreement.

They can live here without him.

Thankfully Kaspar’s next words thaw him. “I can’t say that I want to go back now that I know this place is empty. But I’ll put up with living there if it’s the only option for you. Anna and I can still save for a deposit there. We’ll just have to be much more careful. We’ll go back.” Kaspar promises. “If that’s what you want.”

“Shush.” Vanya can’t listen to more. “Let me think for a moment.”

They all stand in silence.

Vanya closes his eyes and listens.

There’s no sound of neighbours fighting or fucking up here, no thud of nonstop music or sobs heard through walls far too thin to stem them. And there’s no one lying in wait to take what’s left that’s precious to them. When he blinks his eyes open again, Anna’s face fills his field of vision.

The clouds are gone from her expression.

Hope skims its surface instead.

He can’t bear to crush it.

“Give me your phone.” When Kaspar passes it over, Vanya texts very carefully, backspacing to add a missing pronoun. “Of course we could go back, but I don’t want to either. And yes, you two can save for a deposit,” he agrees before setting aside his last reservations and pressing Send.

Can see you tomorrow.

Cost is £100 cash.

“But three people earning money will save a whole lot faster.”