MEETINGS WITH FOUR (OF THIRTEEN)

MEETINGS WITH FOUR (OF THIRTEEN)

I hadn’t seen Four for a while then he got in the lift where I stood against the back rail as we made our down to the ground floor.
‘Hello, haven’t seen you for a while,’ he said. ‘How are you?
‘I’m well,’ I said. ‘Though I was ill a few months over Christmas.’
‘What was it?’
‘Flu,’ I said. ‘Well a virus of some sort that included a heavy bout of flu kept me in bed a few days. I had three months of it,’ I said. ‘Took me that long to shake it off.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘One of the cleaners came to work with the flu and gave it to everyone else, though I didn’t get it, but I don’t know why people come in when they’re ill.’
‘No work no pay, is it?’
‘Yes.’.
‘That’s why then.’
‘Hmm,’ he said.
Outside it was windy. I’d known it would be.
Four put his hand to his head, said, ‘I’d better hold to my hat or I’ll lose it.’
‘I love the wind,’ I said. ‘Getting blown about…’
‘Hmm,’ he said or something.

In the lift on the way back a little later Cee with a bucket and mop.
‘Still windy out there?”
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I love it.’
‘Hmm,’ he said.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ I said reaching the front door to the block Four was holding open for me from since I passed the last lamppost on the right.
‘You’ve just missed the lift,’ he said. ‘But it’ll be down in a minute.’
‘Thank you,’ I said again.
Through the door I expected him to follow but when he didn’t him holding it open for me was extra special.