Four feet away

Pete would never forget the day it all happened. It was a Tuesday in March. A day when Spring had lost its fight with another day of overcast drizzle.

Pete was sitting at his desk, trying to remain focussed on his computer. Instead he just stared out at the grey world beyond his window, lost somewhere between boredom and fatigue. The idea of working from home used to be so appealing, but now the small office at the front of the house depressed him. Months of video calls and virtual meetings had made him realise that he really was a people person and that without people, he didn’t feel much like a person at all.

As he stared at his screen, he wondered if the first computer engineers who gazed at their monitors in awe thinking ‘It’s alive!’ could have predicted the feeling of despair their glorious creation would bring?

It was as this thought scrolled slowly across Pete’s mind that his doorbell rang. He did a half stand to see over the window ledge and caught the back of the postman walking down the path and turning into the path next door.

He stood up properly and headed downstairs.

--------------

Sarah would never forget the day it all happened. It was a Tuesday in March. One of those wet days she oddly enjoyed. Ever since she received one of those watches that tracked her steps for Christmas, she couldn’t help but go out for an early morning walk. The cold days, the snowy days, the drizzly days. Essentially the days where her cheeks glowed all morning when she came back.

She’d decided she loved working from home. She’d always shied away from the label of introvert, but really - she was. Therefore the idea of being able to conduct a meeting at arm’s length had filled her with delight. She could sit in her little office at the front of the house on ‘video calls’, quickly making them just ‘calls’ with one camera-banishing click.

She was on another of these calls now. Everyone else was chatting away and Sarah was just staring at the other participants. Camera off. Observations on.

Her doorbell rang. That was fine - she could answer it whilst everyone carried on. Nobody would even notice she’d gone. She wandered downstairs, but couldn’t see anyone at the door through the glass.

As she reached the foot of the stairs, she heard the muffled thunk of next door closing their door.

She opened her own door and saw a parcel propped up just outside. The postman was already well onto the next house, hood up against the persistent rain. She grabbed the parcel and quickly went back inside.

She headed back upstairs, parcel under her arm.

--------------

Pete sat back down at his desk staring at the package. A smile crept up one side of his mouth as he inspected the padded brown envelope and pulled out a small black book. He was perplexed, but also a little excited. He had no idea what this was about.

He pulled away the elastic binding from one side of the book. It looked brand new, but the spine had been cracked slightly and as he opened it, the book naturally found its way to the very centre pages.

On the right hand side, sitting in the middle of the page were two numbers. 139 at the top and just below it 137. Blue pen, slightly scruffy handwriting. The page directly opposite had been ripped out, leaving a jagged tear down the centre.

Pete’s smile waned a little as he weighed up what this might mean.

He looked the book over carefully and reflexively shook it upside down just in case something fell out. Nothing did. He held it up to light to see if anything was etched into the pages. There wasn’t.

He looked out of the window, his brow furrowed in thought. He was on the verge of messaging some of his mates to find out if this was an elaborate prank when he looked back at the numbers again.

That was when it clicked.

--------------

Sarah stared at the briefcase on her desk. She’d been very confused when she pulled away the plastic wrapping to find a black briefcase inside. It felt like it had something heavy in it, but when she shook it, there was no noise whatsoever. Most troublingly, it was locked. Held firm by a 3 digit combination lock on each side.

Sarah looked down at it and became suddenly panicked. Why had someone sent her a random briefcase? What was in it and could it be dangerous? She checked the package again and yes, it was certainly her name written on it.

She didn’t like this at all. Perhaps someone had done it to make fun of her. She felt suddenly very anxious. She was on the verge of calling her Mum when her doorbell rang again.

--------------

The man loved watching. It came from his dislike of meeting new people. He didn’t know where to look or how to react to them, but he liked to watch. He spent a lot of his time on online dating sites. Sometimes he’d arrange to meet people, but he’d end up just watching them arrive at locations he’d specified before retreating back to his house.

The man was watching now. He’d watched the two of them for months, sitting at their desks. Facing each other almost perfectly and divided by only a few feet of brickwork. Their eyes almost meeting. Their hands almost touching.

He watched the padded envelope being dropped outside number 137. He watched the larger parcel being left on the doorstep of number 139.

He saw him take the package back to his desk and sit down.

He saw her take the package back to her desk and sit down.

He licked his lips.

-----------

It’s a Saturday morning in June. The sky above is blue and clear.

Pete emerges from the door to his house. He turns and starts to lock it.

Like one of those Austrian clocks where the two characters emerge from their doors at the same time to chime the hour, the door next door also opens. Sarah walks out. She turns around and starts to lock-up. The two of them engaged in an almost choreographed routine.

Pete steps away from the door, but instead of walking down his path he nimbly hops over the small dividing fence between the two houses.

He walks over to Sarah and puts his arms around her, embracing her from behind.

“Will you stop that?!” hisses Sarah without looking behind her. “You know I don’t like it.”

“I know” says Pete “But you know... he likes it…”

“I can’t keep doing this, Pete” says Sarah, pulling away. She re-opens her door and steps back through into her hallway. Pete follows her in, pushing the door closed with a flick of his heel as he goes.

“What are we going to do?” sighs Sarah as she turns to look at him. She nervously touches her forehead. “This is so weird, Pete”.

Pete purses his lips and exhales. “Where is it? he says, “where’s the note?”

Sarah pulls it from her pocket. She unfolds the well-worn paper, pulling the curved edge away from the jagged edge. “It’s here” she says.

Pete reads it once again.

I’m so glad you’re reading this together. I know you’ll like each other. You’ve always been so close. In this briefcase is $20,000 in cash. I don’t have any use for it, so I wanted the two of you to have it. I don’t need anything in return, you just need to enjoy it, together. You’ve already discovered that you share a unique combination, perhaps that will just be the start. :-)

He passes it back to Sarah who reads it too, although she knows every word.

They look at each other in silence. They take a deep breath and nod. With wide smiles now firmly affixed, they reopen the door and step out into the sun.

The upstairs window of the house directly across the road is dirty. That congealed sort of dust that weirdly the rain never seems able to wash away, leaving it almost frosted. From behind it, the man watches. And he smiles right back.