‘Of course.’
As they walked away, I gave myself a mental slap. I’d made a thousand judgements about this woman, badly drawn tattoos scrawled across her arms and legs. A face with every soft angle chipped away. Eyes sharp and fierce. I did my best to ditch every ill-conceived one of them.
6
The next day, Saturday, my new bed arrived. Because I was still new to all this doing-what-I-want Dream Life, I had drawn up a carefully planned schedule for the day:
Get up when I want
Read as much as I want
Eat what I want, when I want
Swap disgusting old bed for lovely new bed
Do some more of what I want
Go to sleep in lovely new bed
This schedule was rudely interrupted before it even got started when I was woken up by more banging on my door. I stuck one hand out of the duvet and checked the time on my phone. Seven a.m.! On a Saturday! I would have buried my head under the covers and waited for whoever it was to go away, but then they started knocking on the living-room window.
Peering out with sleep-addled eyes, I saw to my dismay that I hadn’t closed the curtains properly, and there was a man now gesturing at me through the gap.
Thankfully, I was at least wearing a T-shirt and pyjama shorts. I waved in acknowledgement, and reluctantly heaved myself up. By the time I’d shuffled the five steps into the corridor, undone the lock and opened the front door, the man – and his van – were disappearing over the crest of Hatherstone Lane. And there, propped up along the wall of my house where anyone could help themselves as they walked past, were the huge boxes containing the pieces of my oak bed frame and extra-thick new mattress.
I rubbed my face a few times and went to put the kettle on.
‘No. I have a text and an email to confirm that delivery would be between twelve and two.’
I took another angry bite of bagel, while the person on the end of the phone waffled on about a blip in the system.
‘I’m not denying the blip; I’m asking you what you’re going to do about it. I paid extra for a specific delivery slot that didn’t happen, and more importantly I now have a double bed frame and mattress dumped on the pavement, while the old bed I paid for your company to take away is still upstairs, in my bedroom.’
‘Well, you should have asked them to take the old bed away,’ she droned back, as if – duh! ‘We had a blip on the system so they weren’t informed about that.’
‘I told you they left before I’d opened the door!’
‘Well, I’m sorry, madam, but I’m not sure what you expect me to do about it.’
‘I expect you…’ I took a moment to swallow another mouthful while trying to calm down enough to speak instead of shriek. ‘To refund me the extra delivery money, and then send someone out to take my new bed upstairs and then remove the old bed, as paid for.’
‘Certainly, madam. Let me check the system for you… One moment please… One moment… Yes, I’ve booked you a bed removal for the twenty-second of July.’
‘What!? That’s over two months away! I can’t leave a bed and a mattress outside my front door for weeks on end. And even if I could drag them inside, my house is tiny; there’s no space until the old bed is gone.’
‘Well, drag the old bed outside, then.’
‘Move an iron bed, single-handed, down the stairs and outside, where I have to leave it on the pavement until your company can be bothered to come and do the job I paid them to do today?’
‘I’m sure you can ask a friend to help.’
‘Really? For all you know I don’t have any friends!’
I hung up, eyes smarting with frustration.
I did have friends. I had Steph and her family. Who were on holiday in Cornwall for the week. I had Karina, who had taken Mum to Matlock for the day. I had… Joan.
I waited until nine o’clock, not wanting to disturb anyone’s weekend lie-in.
‘Hello?’ Joan answered the door eventually. She was already dressed in grey jersey shorts and the same T-shirt as the day before. She had The Fellowship of the Ring dangling from one hand, her finger propping open the page. ‘Oh, hi, Ollie.’
‘How’s everyone getting on – still in Rivendell?’
Her face lit up. ‘Under the Misty Mountains!’
We chatted for a few moments about the story, before I got to the point. ‘Is your mum around? I’ve had a mess-up with my bed delivery and I need an extra pair of arms.’
Joan’s expression went blank. ‘She’s at work.’