This virus has made life very tough for loads of people. But there are some for whom it has brought benefits. The one that I noticed most as I sit at my laptop looking out of my front window is the almost constant stream of white van delivery men.
I was out in the front garden one day during the summer. I'd been stuck indoors for what seemed like forever and it was good to get out into the sunshine. I didn't have a plan, I was just pottering about, doing a bit of tidying up of the flower beds. My attention was taken when one of the ubiquitous white vans came around the corner and stopped right outside my house. My heart leapt. It was the delivery I'd been waiting for. I'd seen these things ages ago and had always wanted one. I'd come into a bit of money when a distant relative died and I was feeling quite down so decided to treat myself.
He seemed to spend ages in the back of the van before coming out, struggling with a huge carboard box. He simply asked, "Ms C****?" and I nodded. He staggered up the path and dumped it by the front door.
"Could you ..." I started to ask but he was already at the gate.
"Sorry love," he called over his shoulder, and climbing into his van, "doorstep deliveries only."
Then he was gone leaving me standing open-mouthed looking at this huge box and wondering what to do. Luckily, just at that moment the parcel gods intervened in the shape of my neighbour. I've lived next door to Alice for about four years ever since I moved in. They seemed like a nice normal couple until about a year ago when he disappeared. I saw her a few times and her eyes were always red as if she'd been crying but I never had the courage to ask her. I only got the full story from the rumour-monger that owned the local shop.
At least he hadn't died. In many ways running off with his young secretary was even worse. If he'd died at least all her friends would have hugged her and rolled out any one of a list of cliches. As it was no one knew quite what to say. But that is history, and I was more concerned with my current problems. From behind me I heard Alice saying something.
"Wow, someone must love you. That's a huge present."
"It was me," I said turning to face her, "its my present to me."
"Do you need a hand getting it indoors?"
"Oh, would you? That'd be so kind. There's no way I can manage it on my own."
"No problem," she said, scrambling over the low wall that separated our two gardens, "is it heavy?"
"Its more awkward than heavy I think," I told her lifting one corner of the box to test it.
"Come on then. Where do you want it?" she said, stepping up to the opposite side of the box.
Somehow, between us we got it over the threshold of the front door. Then we huffed and puffed, sliding it over the polished floor of the hallway. I had to move a coat stand and a chair into the kitchen to get it past. It was harder work sliding it across the carpet of the living room. We finally stood back, leaving it in the centre of the room. Alice slumped back into the armchair and I collapsed onto the sofa. We both stared at the brown box for ages, breathing heavily.
"I should offer you a drink as thanks," I said, pushing myself upright, "tea or coffee?"
"Do you have anything stronger?" she asked with a cheeky smile, "I think we both deserve it."
I grinned back and told her to hang on. I went to the kitchen and fought my way past the coat stand and the chair and took the half empty bottle of white wine out of the fridge. It was leftover from last night. I grabbed two glasses and went back to the front room.
For a while we sat silently, sipping our wine and glancing at each other over the top of the box. She was very pretty, I had to admit that. I considered myself ok as far as that went but she was several levels up from me. Why anyone would swap her for his secretary was beyond me. She was wearing jeans and a floppy jumper and bright red socks. Her gardening wellies she had thoughtfully left by the front door. I had to quickly stop myself when I began to try and make out the shape of her breasts under the loose-fitting sweater.
I ought to be up front about it, I'm gay. I have been all my life. But what with work and living out here in the middle of nowhere, and more recently thanks to the virus, I hadn't had a partner for over a year. That was partly the reason for treating myself.
"So, what's in the box?"
"Oh ... I ... errr ... it's a bit embarrassing, you really don't want to know."
"Well, now I definitely do," she said with a sort of giggle, "come on, you can't leave me in suspense now."
"Ok but promise you won't be too shocked."
I rummaged in the pocket of my gardening jacket and dug out my trusty old penknife. I opened it and slipped to my knees on the floor next to the box. The sharp blade slit open the sticky tape holding the lid and I pulled it open. I saw Alice lean forward expectantly only to look disappointed. We couldn't see anything apart from mounds of bubble wrap. Wave after wave of it poured over the floor as I pulled it out. There were enough stress-relieving bubbles to last me a lifetime. And then ... there it was, a black presence still nestled in its cocoon. Alice dropped onto her knees on the carpet and peered in.
"What on earth ...?"
I blushed madly. "Ok," I said swallowing my embarrassment, "this is just between you and me. You have to promise."
