Tuesday, 20 December 2011

The flowers that died

Please don't judge me too harshly. A few weeks ago, a man from Interflora rang my doorbell. Would I take in this elaborate bouquet of flowers, in a vase, for my neighbour who was out? I was reluctant but agreed. I knocked on the neighbours' door. I rang the neighbours' bell. Every day for a long time. Their curtains were drawn. Shouting Cat who lives with them was nowhere to be seen or heard. Eventually the flowers withered away and died. They had to be thrown away and still no sign of the neighbours.

Then, on Sunday, a card was put through my letterbox whilst I was out. A courier had tried to deliver a package to me. I have recently bought many things online rather than brave the shops. I am often out when someone tries to deliver. It's probably an unwritten rule that you will be out when that important package arrives. Even if you have sometimes stayed in on purpose to wait for the delivery.

I don't know if it is also an unwritten rule that the package will be delivered to the neighbours for whom you have taken in a package before. Even when it is a different courier delivering. But that is what happened to my package. Then, of course, when I got home and picked up the card and got over my surprise to have missed a delivery on a Sunday, the neighbours were not in. I knocked on the neighbours' door. I rang the neighbours' bell. Frequently. I needed that package it was not like unexpected flowers. This contained presents for other people.

I had nearly given up hope of receiving the goods in time. I should not have doubted. The lovely French neighbour knocked on my door quite late last night. She carried a huge box. Yes it was what I had been waiting for.

Now I have a very bad memory. I blame the lesions on my brain. I did not tell her about the flowers that died. At first I had genuinely forgotten. Then, after she had gone, I was embarrassed and did not go back to her front door and ring her bell. She however did come back to mine. She brandished a slightly dog-eared old delivery card. Did I know anything about these flowers? I had to admit the flowers had long since died and been thrown away. She was a bit regretful but not too sad. The flowers had not even been for her. They had been missaddressed to the people who used to live in her flat. She knows where these people live now but as I told her the flowers had died it was not a problem.

Now this is the bit where I am totally in the wrong. There had been a card with the flowers. More of a note really. It said nothing of importance. But it probably had a name of who the flowers were from. Just a first name. Or two. I don't remember. The tag is gone. It went in the recycling. I put it there. I could not give my French neighbour the card that had come with the flowers that died to pass on to the neighbours who have moved.

I had taken the recycling out. It had gone. Long gone. Now there is irony here. My French neighbour does not seem to do much recycling judging by the huge number of bulging bin bags from her flat that fill our shared bin store. If she had come round sooner I would still have the card even though the flowers had died. I only took the card recycling to the huge wheelie bins on our estate yesterday.

By the way, the sharp eyed amongst you may have noticed I said the flowers were in a vase. I still have the vase. Please don't judge me too harshly. It's just a glass vase.

1 comment:

  1. Not worth worrying about. Get some flowers for the vase.


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