Chapter 1: Prologue

“He’ll die without you.”

Eleanor’s voice over the phone was stern. Tinted with slight fear, but without hesitation. Thinking about it, it was always like that. Eleanor was not one to state anything uncertain.

“He’s going to die, Jun. Are you listening to me?”

Eleanor said that Ju-eun had “run away.” But Ju-eun did not think that she had run away from him; rather, she thought that she had “let go” of him.

As Ju-eun left London, she told Eleanor to take care of him. That was the last act of kindness that she could provide Eden.

But then why...

“Jun.”

Eleanor impatiently urged Ju-eun, only to be met with silence. She did not let out a single syllable, not even a single gasp.

It seemed that there was no going back now, but her mind kept going back to the not-too-distant-past.

Stop. Stop.

She calmed herself while shaking her head. It was something that she did not want to think about. Thinking about him, just the image of his face made her breathless.

Eden.

At one point, he was her only paradise.

* * *

Ju-eun had a busy morning, needing to make it to the cafe before its opening time at 8 a.m. It took about 15 minutes by subway from her Whitechapel home to Islington, so she would need to be on the subway in 10 minutes at the latest.

“Good morning, Ju-on.”

As Ju-eun was zipping her jacket and grabbing some water from the fridge, she was greeted by her flatmate, Yuito, who was scratching the back of his head. Considering that he didn’t need to get to work until 10 a.m., he was up quite early.

Yuito, from time to time, would call her “Ju-on,” mostly when he wanted to catch her attention. Ju-eun, although not fluent in Japanese, knew that the term did not connote a good thing, that it was the name of a famous Japanese horror film. Despite knowing such details, she pretended not to know, as she did not want to give into the banter.

“Hey,” Ju-eun answered plainly.

As Yuito grabbed a piece of bread from the pantry, he carefully glanced at Ju-eun, as if he wanted to tell her something.

“What are you doing this afternoon? You get off at 2 p.m., right?”

Although Ju-eun had nothing lined up after work, she needed to make it seem like she had plans. As she pretended to go through her schedule and tried to think of an excuse, her phone rang. She asked Yuito to wait and quickly picked up the phone.

“Bonjour, Jun!”

The landlord, Mr. Gonzalez, was always full of energy, even first thing in the morning. With gratitude for calling at such an apt time, Ju-eun responded politely and kindly.

“Hello, Mr. Gonzalez.”

“How are you doing? Has everything been alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Good, good. You’re a lovely young lady and a wonderful tenant. I really wish everyone in the flat was like you.”

There were usually two reasons why Mr. Gonzalez would continuously flatter someone without giving them a chance to respond: either to raise their rent, or to evict them.

“That being said, Jun, could you clean room number 3?”

“Number 3?”

“Yes, room number 3, the one with the Chinese girl.”

That room was Liz Shao’s room. She said that she came alone from a small village near Chongqing, China to London. Liz’s legal standing within London was unknown; it was never clear if she was an undocumented immigrant or if she had a green card.

However, it was known that she was always accompanied by alcohol and led an unstable life. She left the house with lavish makeup and accessories. A girl who was loud, noisy, chatty, and bright—someone who seemed to be without a purpose. That was all Ju-eun knew about Liz.

The last time Ju-eun saw Liz was two days ago. Liz was laughing, spinning around in the narrow hallway while dancing. She did not smell of alcohol; Ju-eun assumed that she was influenced by something other than alcohol. This left Ju-eun curious. Why was Liz’s room being emptied when she was only gone for two days? She would often not come home for over a week.

“Did something happen?”

Ju-eun’s question led Mr. Gonzalez to sigh over the phone.

“Something happened. It’s a personal matter, so I can’t go into detail. What is important, Jun, is that I want room number 3 cleaned—as soon as possible.”

Did she run away? Did she not pay her rent, so she’s getting evicted?

Liz was definitely not a considerate and clean roommate. Ju-eun lived with Liz for over a year, and Liz had never helped clean the kitchen or bathroom.

“I don’t even have the keys,” she said.

“Don’t worry about that. Come by the restaurant after work. If you stop by, I’ll pack you some delicious bacalhau (Portuguese fried cod).”

Ju-eun could not readily answer. She did not want to intrude into an ownerless room and touch their belongings. Also, why must she be the one to clean Liz’s room?

“Okay. I’ll lower your rent by ten pounds per month for one year. How does that sound?”

“... I don’t know.” Ju-eun bit her lip, blurring the ends of her words.

“How about 20 pounds?”

“There seems to be a lot of stuff in there... And to clean that all... I’m sorry, Mr. Gonzalez, I don’t think...”

“30 pounds.” Mr. Gonzalez, with an ambiguous tone, raised the amount again.

“Sounds good.” Ju-eun did not miss the opportunity to answer.

30 pounds per month for a year added up to an entire month’s rent. That was enough compensation to bear the discomforts of cleaning a room without the owner.

“Ok, then it’s a done deal. Come to the restaurant when you’ve clocked out.”

“Wait!” interrupted Ju-eun, as Mr. Gonzalez tried to hang up the phone. “You’re still giving me the bacalhau, right?”

Mr. Gonzalez laughed loudly over the phone.

“You sly fox! Yes, I will make sure to pack that up for you.”

Ju-eun hung up the phone. She cleaned the screen with her palm, put the phone in her pocket, and proceeded to tell Yuito, “Sorry, I have something in the afternoon. I’ll see you later.”

Before Yuito had a chance to reply, Ju-eun picked up her bag from the dining table and left the apartment.

A 15-minute subway ride, followed by a 10-minute walk would lead Ju-eun to her workplace, a Japanese dessert cafe called Omise.

There was a clear reason behind why she decided to work in Islington. She disliked crowded areas, and didn’t want to spend time and energy on tourists. Although most people seek an active, lively environment to learn a language, Ju-eun preferred to be placed in a slower-paced environment, even if it would slow her learning process.

It was when she was passing by the park. Altab Park seemed to hold more of an eerie ambience. There were still police lines blocking the park.

It was exactly three days ago. Police in uniforms, along with police cars and vans from broadcasting service were lined up around the park. The area was known to be unsafe, but it was her first time seeing a police line covering the entire park; it felt very strange.

“Creepy,” Ju-eun mumbled, reminiscing about the moment. She hurriedly walked away, rubbing her arms together.

It took exactly 29 minutes to get to the store. As soon as Ju-eun arrived, she opened the door, ventilated the store, turned the lights on, changed into her uniform, and filled the cash drawer. She filled the showcase with wagashi (Japanese sweets) and cake, and did not forget to wipe the steam hole on the coffee machine with a wet towel. She also cleaned and shined the strange objects that the owner brought from Japan: healing stones, holy candle sets, and a fan that could purify souls.

In theory, they were all ridiculous, but the items were somehow gaining a lot of popularity. They were steady sellers despite their high prices; it was incomprehensible.

As the last task of plating the croissants and bagels that arrived in the morning was completed, the first round of customers arrived. The store was never too busy. There were eight tables inside and four tables outside, but they were never full.

After making a latte for a customer who sat outside with their brown spotted bull terrier, Ju-eun updated the inventory, filling out an order form for items needed. Afterward, she made a coffee for herself. She topped the drink with a nicely-shaped leaf made out of milk and took a picture. It was for social media: she needed to upload carefully curated photos suggesting an ideal life along with short descriptions for her mom.

Thinking about her family made her sad. It made her lonely, bitter, and sometimes depressed.

Before Ju-eun graduated from elementary school, her father estranged himself from the family after several business failures. Her mother got divorced two years before her father’s business went bankrupt, and remarried a single father with a five-year-old daughter when Ju-eun was in eighth grade. The year after her mother got remarried, Ju-eun’s half-brother was born. And with that, Ju-eun’s mother formed a new, tight-knit family.

Ju-eun lived with her grandmother in the outskirts of Gyeonggi province, but took her college entrance exams at her mother’s new family home. She wanted to stay with her mother, but after hearing her mother and her stepfather arguing about her college tuition, she abandoned the idea. After that, Ju-eun fervently studied, earned a full scholarship, and lived in the dorms.

When Ju-eun would go and visit her grandmother during the holidays, her grandmother would always cry. She would blame Ju-eun’s father for his wrongdoings and bash on her mother. Ju-eun hated seeing her grandmother cry. She hated it as much as her mother calling to cry and apologize to her.

She hated complicated family affairs; she also wanted to avoid the fact that she had no home to go back to after graduating. Ju-eun, to this day, still could not understand why she chose London as her city of escape. Perhaps it was because of Jane Austen’s novels, or perhaps because she admired the British accent.

“Hello!”

Mina greeted her with her high-pitched voice as she came inside the store. It was already 11 a.m. Mina changed into her uniform, and fastened her apron next to Ju-eun. Her squinted eyes turned to the order form next to the desk.

“You already updated the inventory? I was going to do it when I got here!” she exclaimed.

“I had a bit of time,” replied Ju-eun.

Hearing that, Mina smiled widely and grabbed two croissants. “I’m going to make a sandwich, do you want one?”

“Ah, that’d be great. Thank you.”

After serving the two customers that came in wagashi and green tea, Ju-eun and Mina stood by the desk, chatting and eating their sandwiches.

Mina rambled on about how her new boyfriend was so kind and warm-hearted, but also included flaws that she saw within him here and there. She seemed to be worried that she’d come off as a lovestruck girlfriend, but Ju-eun wasn’t particularly paying attention to her fervent tales of love. One thing that she did wonder was how Mina accumulated new and burning passion for her ever-changing list of lovers.

Ju-eun initially planned to get off work a little after 2 p.m., but took off her apron as soon as the clock hit noon. She would need to hurry if she wanted to head to Mr. Gonzalez’ restaurant, grab the keys for room number 3, and go home.

As soon as she said her goodbye to Mina, Mr. Gonzalez called. He was always in a hurry, she thought as she answered the phone.

“Jun! Are you on your way?”

“No, not yet.”

“Oh! Nice! You don’t have to come! Some man took the keys.”

“A man?”

“Yes! This pale boy said something about needing something from that room. It was around an hour ago. He said that he was Liz’s friend?”

“What was his name?”

“What was it again… Leon? Ian...? No, was it Ash?”

That makes no sense.

“Sorry. I really wasn’t paying attention to him because I was busy. He didn’t look too nice. He might be a criminal. He looks like one! That being said, be careful, Jun!”

Oh, you’re telling me to be careful after you already handed him the keys?

“Okay.”

Knowing that calling Mr. Gonzalez would not resolve anything, Ju-eun answered with sternness and hung up.

As Ju-eun headed back to Whitechapel, she began thinking about the man who “didn’t look too nice.” Considering Liz’s attitude and taste in people, it was easy to imagine what kind of person she would call a “friend.” Someone like her—a promiscuous, unruly type of person. Ju-eun sighed, exiting the subway station and walked through the Whitechapel road for around 10 minutes.

In front of the apartment, Ju-eun looked up at the second floor balcony. He was there—the pale man that Mr. Gonzalez spoke of, leaning against the rusty terrace with crossed arms. Their eyes met. Ju-eun stood still and gulped. Whitechapel was an area with a large Muslim population, ironically making the white British population seem alien. This man, however, stood out even more. Ju-eun wasn’t sure if it was because of the city itself, or the man’s appearance.

He had the brightest blond hair that she had ever seen, and his beautiful features stood out from afar, his faint outline clearly recognizable even from a distance. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen.

“Hello.”

He gave her a friendly greeting as he pulled up the bag on his back, which looked like a guitar case. In contrast to his pretty face, he had a low, manly voice.