In Halls

Arrival

Six bedrooms off a shared hallway. One kitchen at the end. Six eighteen year old strangers all arriving on the same day with no prior knowledge of each other. If it wasn't the set up for a horror movie, at the very least it was a kind of nightmare to me. But everyone said that halls were the best thing about uni, that you made your best friends there, that it was really worth the hassle. And some part of me was clearly keen, or I wouldn't have been scanning my key card at half past nine on the first day of my contract, my Mum and Dad balancing boxes on the stairs behind me. I'd landed room 1, right next to the door, room 2 opposite across the corridor and two more pairs of rooms on the way down to the kitchen.

"Good room Ellen. Not too close to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen," said my Dad, dumping a crate of kitchenware on the corner desk. My Mum was nosing into the tiny en suite, effectively a plastic box taking out the other far corner of the room. A single bed crammed down one side, a wardrobe edging onto the en suite, and that was the sum total of furnishings. They weren't the nicest residences on offer, but they were more affordable than many.

"I will be answering the door to everyone who forgets their keys in the middle of the night though," I pointed out.

I let them have the run of the place for a bit, as there didn't seem to be anyone else around. They inspected all the kitchen cupboards, assessed the fridges, and went to "check out the neighbourhood." They came back with more food than would easily fit into my fair share of space, then settled in with a cup of tea on the sofa in the living space half of the shared kitchen room. By that time I was beginning to get twitchy about other people arriving, and turned my hints about driving home in time for lunch into an outright instruction to give me some space to unpack.

"We'll go and find a café then and pop back in a bit?" said my mum, hopefully.

"No. I need to start feeling like this is my space. And the others will be here soon."

"Probably getting dropped off by their parents..."

"Exactly, it's going to get far too crowded."

My dad flicked one of my two short plaits in his usual infuriating, cheeky manner.

"Is this all the thanks we get for driving you all the way here and running up and down those stairs with all your suitcases? Don't roll your eyes at me, little bear!"

"I'm not, no, sorry, I've been saying thank you all morning! Thank you, thank you. But you know, this whole uni thing is about becoming an independent functioning adult and all that."

"I thought it was about getting a sparkling first class degree for us to brag about to the neighbours?"

I scowled, and took them in hand, shepherding them in the direction of the door with many hugs and promises to send pictures later, until I was able to wave them down the stairs and turn back into my empty room. I looked at the alarming number of boxes and bags, and regretted kicking them out. The room was utterly impersonal, like a room in a generic hotel chain but without the soft towels and weird non-committal art prints. The walls were largely covered in oversized pinboards, presumably to stop students martyring the walls with blue tack. The bed was bare, and my duvet was dumped in a bundle on top of it. It seemed as good a place to start as any. Spreading clothes all over the floor in search of my grey and white lacy patterned pillow cases, I put the first pinch of personality into the room.

I could hear people talking and laughing on the stairs, my new upstairs and downstairs neighbours no doubt striking up easy friendships. It crossed my mind to say hello. Instead I decided I was in urgent need of more floor space to work with, and took a large box of crockery down into the kitchen.