‘Yes?’
‘Hi.’ I smiled. I had spent a lot of time with older people in the Buttonhole, and knew that if you didn’t speak as if they were deaf, senile or stupid, they generally appreciated it. ‘I’m Ollie, I’ve moved in next door and thought I’d come and say hello. I hope I didn’t disturb you?’
He looked me up and down. ‘Well, you did.’
‘Right. Sorry.’ I waited for him to accept my apology, but from the look on his face I’d be waiting all day. ‘And, um, you are…?’
‘None of your business.’ He took so long to slam the door that it took on the guise of slow-motion. I was so taken aback that by the time it finally clicked closed, I was still just standing there.
Great.
Across the road was an empty field. I could try the houses further down the lane, but after that welcome I wasn’t feeling optimistic. I spent a wistful minute or two imagining how switching the beds would become a funny, romantic story were my Dream Man here to take the bulk of the weight on his broad shoulders, before slapping that pathetic fantasy to one side and determining to solve this problem alone.
Right. First things first… another cup of tea.
It was nearly eleven by the time I’d donned disposable gloves and had succeeded in wrestling the old mattress off the bed. In between the odd retch caused by my face coming within inches of the worst combination of smells imaginable, I was eventually able to get it through the bedroom door. By the time I’d manhandled it to the top of the stairs, I was dripping with sweat, scarlet-cheeked and covered in grime and dust. However, the next bit was easy – one good shove and the mattress skidded down the stairs, momentum carrying it right out of the front door.
‘Ow!’ The loud yell was accompanied by an ominous clattering noise. I waited at the top of the stairs, my body frozen in a wince.
‘What the hell?’
Tiptoeing down the stairs, I peered out the door to see a man untangling himself from a mountain bike, a process that was hindered by being on top of a saggy old mattress.
‘I’m so sorry!’ I gasped, trying to squash down the urge to laugh.
‘It’s bad enough having all these boxes obstructing the pavement. Next time, maybe check the coast is clear before shooting a large object out your front door,’ the man replied as he finally jerked free from the bike.
‘I was at the top of the stairs. I couldn’t see that far.’ I cringed. ‘Barely anyone ever goes past the house, so I didn’t think to call out a warning. At least you had a soft landing.’
‘Well, that’s true.’ He looked up from where he now squatted, inspecting the bike, one side of his mouth tugging up into a reluctant smile. ‘I only hope no one was filming it. Won’t do much for my reputation, that pratfall going up on the Bigley Facebook page.’
I’d recognised him when he looked up, causing embarrassment to race up my chest and further flood my overheated cheeks . It was Mr May, from the forest. Steph would have a field day. He was wearing navy shorts and a white T-shirt. The shadow of a beard highlighted his jawline, and, standing this close to him, I could see that his eyes were light brown, like honey.
Straightening up, with a satisfied pat of his bike saddle, he glanced at the pile of huge boxes. ‘New bed?’
I nodded, acutely aware of my dirty and dishevelled state.
‘Is there an old frame to follow this mattress?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Please tell me you’ve got a plan that doesn’t further risk injury to a passing member of the public.’
‘I’ll… close the front door.’
He shook his head, smiling, before glancing at his watch. ‘Come on, show me the way. Oh,’ he held out one hand, ‘I’m Sam.’
I tentatively stretched mine out to shake his, before we both saw the state of the glove and changed our minds. ‘Ollie. I moved in last week.’
‘Nice to meet you, Ollie. Welcome to Bigley Bottom.’
‘I did have a better plan,’ I explained, as we tried and repeatedly failed to angle the frame out of the bedroom door. ‘I’d paid for the old bed to be taken away, and the new one delivered upstairs. The delivery man just dumped it and ran before I’d opened the front door. I tried asking the neighbours for a hand, but, well… they’re either working, eleven years old or not feeling very helpful.’
His brow wrinkled in sympathy, producing the sudden need to clarify that I wasn’t a sad, sorry loner with no one to help me move a bed. ‘I mean, I could have asked a friend, or family, but it’s a bit of a trek out here. I’m trying to prove I can manage by myself, so I thought I’d improvise. Be resourceful.’
‘Who are you trying to prove it to?’ Sam gave the frame one final yank and it scraped through the doorway, taking a strip of cracked paint with it. We began walking it down the tiny landing to the top of the stairs.
‘Oh, everyone, probably. My mum, and aunt and uncle. My best friend. The kids who snubbed me at school. The guy I was in love with who ended up marrying someone else because of my interfering mother. Myself, mostly.’ I squinted at him through the springs. ‘Sorry, that was an overly deep answer from someone you’ve just met.’
‘I asked,’ Sam grunted as he started lowering the bed down the first step. I focused my attention on the matter in hand, not his straining arm muscles. ‘And I can totally relate to needing to prove yourself. When I left the family law firm to become a forest ranger, my family were all waiting for me to come crawling back. Three years later, I still don’t think they’ve accepted that I’m happier doing something I actually enjoy.’
We bumped a few more steps down.
‘Oh, and we haven’t just met,’ Sam added, once he’d nearly reached the bottom. ‘I saw you out walking, a couple of weeks ago. Your friend asked for directions.’
That nearly caused me to drop the bed, which to be honest wouldn’t have made much difference. I’d been doing my best to take as much weight as I could, but it was more of a token gesture than genuine support. This kind man had remembered me from a random encounter! That was enough to nudge me dangerously close to a crush.
Which was a terrible idea, even if I hadn’t recently signed a No-Man Mandate. Even if a man this lovely was miraculously single, men like Sam weren’t interested in women like me. Time to shut that nonsense down before it had a chance to get started.
We made reasonably fast work of lugging the boxes upstairs. I assured Sam that I could assemble the pieces myself, and we then carried the old bed around the side of the cottage out of the way. I felt horribly awkward about the protocol for thanking him properly. Was it rude to offer some money, or worse not to? Fortunately, he graciously dismissed my fumbling mumbles about repaying the gesture with a grin and a wave of his hand.
‘Buy me a pint in the Merry Men sometime.’ He hopped back on his bike. ‘Even better, next time I need a hand moving a tree trunk, I know who to ask.’