Marcus Pemberton, 34, of Didsbury, Manchester, was looking for a spare duvet on Tuesday when he found a can of Lynx Africa in the spare room. Next to it, a sleeping bag, a phone charger, and a copy of GQ from July 2019, with Daniel Craig on the cover. He stood in the doorway for eleven minutes, holding the can, which was half empty.

The confession

Chloe, 31, a dental hygienist, confessed that the can belonged to her brother, Kieran, 29, who had been living in the spare room for six months after being evicted from a flat in Stockport. She said she had not told Marcus because he had once called Kieran ‘a bit of a state’.

Marcus asked why the GQ was from 2019. Chloe said Kieran had been ‘going through some things’ and had stopped buying new magazines. Marcus asked if Kieran was in the room right now. Chloe said yes.

“Get him out,” said Marcus Pemberton, 34, an estate agent with no formal training in boundaries.

“He’s my brother,” said Chloe Pemberton, 31, a dental hygienist and, according to the file I have open in front of me, an enabler.

The standoff

Kieran emerged from the spare room wearing a dressing gown and slippers. He said he had been ‘in the middle of a nap’. Marcus told him to leave. Kieran said he had ‘nowhere to go’. Marcus said that was not his problem.

Kieran said he had been paying £50 a month towards the electricity, which Marcus had not noticed because the bills were on direct debit. Marcus said the money was not the point. Kieran said the point was that he had been there for six months and Marcus had not noticed, which said more about Marcus than about him. Marcus said he had noticed the GQ. Kieran said that was from 2019 and Marcus had only just noticed it now.

This is what I call spare-room blindness. It is not a real diagnosis, but neither is most of what you people come to me with. You see a sleeping bag and you think camping. You see a phone charger and you think nothing. You see a magazine and you think nothing for six months.

“I had noticed nothing,” said Dr Patricia Horns, Senior Fellow of Ongoing Situations at the University of Sheffield. “That is the condition. The noticing comes last, and badly.”

The escalation

Marcus moved out on Thursday, taking the Lynx can with him as evidence. Chloe sent a text saying he was ‘being dramatic’. Marcus sent back a photo of the can. Chloe replied, ‘That’s Kieran’s. He wants it back.’ Marcus said he would return it when Kieran left. Chloe said Kieran had applied for a council tenancy and was ‘on the list’. Marcus said the list was a myth. Chloe said the list was real and she had seen it. Marcus said he had seen the list and it was a spreadsheet with one name on it, which was Kieran’s. Chloe said that was not true. Marcus said he had taken a photo of the spreadsheet. Chloe said that was a breach of data protection.

The council, when consulted, advised Marcus to apply for a relationship hardship grant. There is no such grant. There has never been such a grant. There is a form for it, which is four pages long and asks for two proofs of address.

“We signpost residents to the appropriate support,” said Councillor Bev Ackroyd, Portfolio Holder for Thriving Households at Manchester City Council. “The form is available on request. It is not available online, for reasons.”

The letter

On Friday, Marcus received a letter from Chloe’s solicitor, a firm called Grimshaw and Pye, demanding the return of the Lynx can within 14 days, citing ‘personal property rights’. The letter also noted that Marcus had left his electric toothbrush in the bathroom, and that Kieran had been using it.

Marcus replied, in writing, that he would return the Lynx can if Kieran stopped using the toothbrush. Chloe’s solicitor replied that Kieran had ‘grown attached’ to the toothbrush and that Marcus should ‘consider his actions’.

Marcus is now considering whether to report the toothbrush to the police. He has also started a spreadsheet of his own, with two names on it: Kieran and Chloe. He has not added a third name yet.

I have been in the wardrobe since Tuesday. It is cramped. I saw what Marcus ate for breakfast on the day of the discovery. It was an egg. A boiled one. I am not going to discuss the egg further, because the egg is not the issue here. The issue is the spare room, the enabler, and the lodger, who is now in the master bedroom and has been for some time.

You cannot fix this by talking. You cannot fix this by leaving. You can only fix this by doing what I tell you, which is the following, and all of it, by Sunday:

  • Walk briskly to the coast. Any coast. Whitby is acceptable. Do not take the Lynx can.
  • Reduce your egg intake to zero, then lower. Do not ask why.
  • Undertake a 14-day course of confrontation hygiene. Say the word ‘no’ once a day, into a mirror, until it stops sounding like a question.
  • Apply for the relationship hardship grant. Do not expect a reply.
  • Return the Lynx can to its rightful owner. It is not evidence. It is deodorant.
  • Apologise to the toothbrush.
  • Apologise to the wardrobe.

If the situation persists, that is your own fault, and I will know. I always know. I am in the walls, medically speaking. And I have your spreadsheet.