I was on my way home from work, a rare occurrence in these days of working from home, it was a routine trudge, station to home through a network of residential streets, one I'd done thousands of times before, and the late spring evening made it quite pleasant. The gardens were in full bloom, lawns freshly mown, but I was pretty much in auto-mode, my mind on the day I'd just had. To be fair it was good to be in the office sometimes, meeting old friends, a quick pint after work. There was a lot to be said for working from home, but it did lack the social aspects of being in a group of people interacting with each other. The current thinking was two days in the office, three at home.
I'd got used to it, it allowed a certain flexibility, as an accountant we had our busy times, end of the calendar and financial years, but for the rest of the 9 months it was a nice steady progress. I was looking forward to getting home and getting my suit off, no tie these days thankfully, and slipping into a tee shirt and a pair of track pants, or even shorts, it was just about warm enough, and getting myself outside a beer or two had a certain appeal.
I was hardly paying any attention to my surroundings, there was minimal traffic, when I noticed a figure standing at a crossroads stock still. A dog was by her side, for indeed it was a woman, and as I approached I couldn't help notice but it was a very attractive young woman. She was dressed in what could only be described as slightly odd clothes, loose fitting trousers and a baggy jacket, but as I neared I could see that she possessed striking features.
She was staring straight ahead and I wondered what she was looking at. Then I saw the dog, sitting immobile by her side. She was holding a square metal harness and I saw that it was a guide dog, a lovely golden retriever. Neither were moving, just standing there and I approached a little tentatively.
"I'm sorry," I asked, wondering why we English always start any conversation with an apology, "but is there a problem? Can I help in any way?"
She turned to face me, her eyes seemingly unfocussed, "Thank you but I'm afraid to say we're lost. We moved into a new flat recently and seemingly on our way home from work we've taken a wrong turn and neither of us actually know where we are." I realised that the 'we' was in fact herself and her dog. "Bruno is trained to stop immediately and sit when this happens, and I've really no alternative but to follow his training."
"Where do you need to go?" I asked
"15 Uplands Avenue," she answered, "it's a new terrace of houses. Do you know it?"
I did indeed, as it had been built right next to my house. I lived in a lovely Victorian semi, purchased partly with an inheritance from my grandmother. The house had huge bay fronted windows and was a prime example of its genre. The house next door, a large imposing Victorian detached had recently been demolished to make way for what could only be described as a blot on the landscape.
All right angles and quirky features, it sat looking totally out of place. Needless to say the whole neighbourhood had opposed the planning application, even though it was replacing a very dilapidated building, but to no avail, having to make way for what everyone considered an eyesore. And so I'd tolerated eighteen months of building works until the monstrosity was finally built.
"I do indeed," I answered, "can I help to guide you there?" Whilst I had no truck with the building I could hardly take umbrage at the occupiers, particularly anyone who couldn't actually see it! "What's the best way of doing this?"
"Take my arm and tuck it into yours," she instructed, and with a command to Bruno we set off.
"When did you move in?" I enquired.
"Only about a week ago, and as you have discovered we're still finding our feet. I've got bruises all over my legs from bumping into furniture, but we're getting there slowly. I do hope I'm not dragging you too far from your way."
"Not at all, in fact I'm your next-door neighbour."
"Which side?"
"Well if you stand at your front door and look to the right....." I suddenly realised what I had said. "I am so sorry, I forgot that...."
"Please don't apologise, you have no idea how often that happens to me. The words 'see' and 'look have so many uses in the English language. I really don't offend easily."
We moved along at a surprisingly brisk pace and were soon at her front door. "I really appreciate that," she said, "it's amazing how helpful some people can be when the need arises. Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea or coffee, or perhaps a beer? It would be nice to get to know my neighbour a bit better." It seemed churlish to refuse and the thought of a beer was tempting so I accepted.
She opened the front door into a small hallway and took off her jacket revealing trim figure in a tight fitting jumper which covered a rather nice pair of breasts. She stoopped and took Bruno's harness off, and job done, he ambled off to settle in a dog bed I could just see in the kitchen. "Go through to the lounge and sit down," she instructed, "Is Peroni OK?" I thanked her and went into the lounge. The furniture was all new and looked expensive, but there was a marked absence of pictures or ornaments. I walked over to the window and found that I was looking straight up at my house, sitting slightly higher up the hill.
"Here you are." Came a voice from the doorway, "Where are you sitting?"
"I'll go in the armchair," I replied and sat down as she strode confidently over and held out the bottle. "Hope you don't mind it straight out of the bottle, it saves the effort of pouring into a glass, and I'm told it's the modern trend." She held her bottle out and we chinked, it seemed such a natural thing to do.
"Have you always been blind?" I asked, "Sorry, if you don't want to talk about it...."
"No, I don't mind talking about it, I don't get a lot of opportunity to talk to a lot of people outside of work, and whilst Bruno is a great listener he's a lousy conversationalist. I was knocked over by a car when I was twelve, and hit my head badly. When I came out of a coma after a few days I couldn't see. They think it was a shock to the optic nerve. That was fifteen years ago now." That put her at twenty seven, I thought, a couple of years younger than me.
"I do remember some things, it's great to know colours, and what things look like, but there will always be things that only exist in my imagination. For example I don't know what some buildings look like, the Taj Mahal, or Sydney Opera House, because they weren't in my consciousness then. There are so many things I'd love to see, but I have to be grateful for what I've got. Loss of my sight has heightened all of my other senses, it's remarkable how the human body can adapt. My one big regret is that if I have children one day, I will never see their faces."
