Jack and Wendy

The estate agent introduced himself as Toby. Toby Inman. 'Do you need somewhere just for yourself?' he asked Jack. 'Or are you married?'

Jack laughed. 'Umm... neither. I'm looking for a place to share with my sister. That's why I want two bedrooms. And some sort of workspace. A small study, or something. I usually work from home.'

'Oh. Right,' Toby said. And he nodded and tapped a few keys on his keyboard. 'Well, there's a character cottage listing over near Holgate. Two and a half beds. Good condition.'

'Holgate?'

'Just the other side of Harpers' Wood. Semi-rural. Great views across open countryside.'

'To be honest, I was really hoping to find something within walking distance of a decent pub. And a corner shop,' Jack told him.

Toby nodded and tapped a few more keys, and then he looked up with a broad smile. 'Will there be a fight over the bedrooms if one is rather larger than the other?' he asked.

Jack laughed again. 'I doubt it. I think my sister will just automatically assume that the larger room is hers. She is my older sister. She outranks me. Always has. Right from the very beginning.'

Toby smiled and nodded. 'Well, there's a first-floor three-bed flat on Exchange Street. It has recently had a total makeover. Spacious kitchen-diner. All mod cons. Smallish sitting room. One large bedroom with a walk-in wardrobe, and two smaller bedrooms. One of the smaller bedrooms overlooks the street and would make a very agreeable study. It's on the market for offers over three hundred. Would you like to take a look?'

'Sounds like a possibility,' Jack said. 'Any parking?'

'Parking for two cars. Access is off the street at the rear.'

Jack nodded. 'Sounds like it could be worth a look.'

'Let me see what I can arrange.'

* * *

The flat was perfect. Well, perfect for what Jack and his sister needed anyway. And there was a pub at the market square end of the street, and a corner shop at the other end. 'As we speak, my sister is somewhere out over the Atlantic,' Jack told Toby. 'Perhaps if she could see it tomorrow?'

'But of course. Do you want to make a time?'

'I need to get back up to London. I have to interview a couple of chaps at UCL,' Jack said. 'But perhaps I can get Wendy to give you a call.'

Toby gave Jack his card.

'And you say the vendor is looking for offers over three hundred. Have they had any interest?'

'They turned down two-eight-five,' Toby said. 'To be honest, I wasn't surprised. I think early three hundreds represents good value. There's a new ninety-nine year ground lease. And, as you can see, the place is in excellent condition. You could just move in.'

Jack didn't want to seem too keen. But, on the other hand, he could see that the property wasn't going to be on the market for long. 'My sister's a pilot,' Jack said. 'I'll try to talk to her this evening. Get her to give you a call first thing tomorrow.'

'Oh? A pilot,' Toby said, clearly impressed. 'Right. Well... location, location, location. It's an easy drive to Heathrow Airport.'

Jack nodded.

'And you?' the agent said. 'Are you...?'

'No. I'm a writer,' Jack told him. 'Science. Engineering. Stuff like that.'

'Would I have read...?'

'Possibly,' Jack said. 'The Science Made Simple series perhaps.' And then he explained: 'My books, etcetera, are under Melvyn Frost. Jack is sort of a nickname.'

'Oh. Yes. Then, yes, I have read you,' Toby said, nodding. 'And do you... currently live in London?'

'Greenwich. Greenwich Village.'

'Nice,' Toby said.

'It is,' Jack said. 'But I seem to spend half my life driving out this way. And my sister is just across in Canary Wharf, which was handy when she was flying out of London City. But now she's based out of Heathrow. So we thought we'd let our existing places and share something out this way.'

'Do you... umm... get along? You and your sister?' Toby asked, tactfully. 'Not all siblings do.'

'Oh, yes. Although we've never actually lived together. Well, not since we were children. But I'm sure we'll manage.'

Toby nodded.

* * *

Jack left a text message on Wendy's phone and then headed back towards Greenwich via Richmond and the A205. The traffic was starting to build, but at least it was mainly heading in the opposite direction.

* * *

Wendy phoned Jack shortly before eight-thirty. 'You've found something.'

'I have found a strong possibility,' Jack said. 'Market Madeley. Just outside the M25. The estate agent -- Toby -- claims it's a twenty minute drive to Heathrow. The place is a first floor flat above a bookshop. Handy to everything, and it has recently been totally refurbished. Oh, and there's a decent-looking pub at the end of the street.'

Jack's sister laughed.

'I think it's certainly worth a look,' Jack said. 'I told Toby that you'd give him a call to arrange a time for a viewing.'

* * *

Wendy phoned Jack again the following afternoon. Like Jack, she thought that the place was nigh on perfect. She just had one question. 'The bedrooms...,' she said. 'One's... well... family-sized. The other is just a touch bijoux.'

Jack laughed. 'Damn. You noticed,' he said. But then he quickly reassured her. 'It's OK. You can have the family-sized bedroom,' Jack said. 'The smaller bedroom is still large enough for a double bed. And I can put a wardrobe in the study.'

'Well... if you're sure,' Wendy said.

Jack phoned Toby and made an offer of £305k. 'We have no chain,' Jack said. 'We don't have to sell our other places. So we are in a position to exchange pretty much immediately. I'm sure your vendor doesn't want this to drag on any longer than necessary.'

'A fast sale is a good sale,' Toby said. And he told Jack that he would take the offer to the vendor.

* * *

Jack and Wendy moved into their new home on the 20th of the following month.

'Well, that was painless,' Toby said when he handed over the keys.

'Painless? I think that rather depends on how you feel about unpacking endless boxes,' Jack told him.

Toby laughed. However, he did say that if Jack and Wendy happened to be in the vicinity of The Golden Cock at about five o'clock, he would be happy to buy them a pint and introduce them to a few of the locals.

'Thank you. We shall be there,' Jack said.

* * *

The removalists arrived shortly after nine, and Jack and Wendy got to work unpacking and organising.

It wasn't until just after three in the afternoon that Jack realised that their new dining table and his bed (also new) had not been delivered. The purveyor of fine furniture had promised delivery between ten and eleven. The dining table was not a matter of life and death. But Jack didn't fancy spending his first night in their new home sleeping on the floor. Or even sleeping on one of their shorter-than-Jack sofas. He phoned the purveyor of fine furniture and listened to fifteen minutes of Greensleeves. Eventually he got to speak to 'a customer care support agent'.

'I'm sorry to hear that,' the customer care support agent said, after Jack had explained that the delivery was now at least four hours overdue. 'I'm just going to have to put you on hold for a moment.' And, before Jack had a chance to say anything further, Greensleeves was back for another ten minute set.

When the customer service support agent eventually returned, she thanked Jack for his patience (which was now wearing thin). 'Due to unforeseen circumstances,' she said, 'we now expect the delivery of your items to be completed within the next hour. Or so.'

'Or so?' Jack said.

'Or so,' the customer care support agent repeated. 'The late afternoon traffic can sometimes be... well... a bit unpredictable.'

'Unpredictable?'

'Unpredictable,' the woman repeated.

'Well, perhaps you can get the delivery crew to phone me when they are on their way,' Jack said.

'Oh, yes. They'll do that anyway,' the customer care support agent said. 'They have your number.'

'Perhaps you could give me theirs,' Jack suggested. 'Just in case.'

'Sorry. The only number we are permitted to give out is the customer care number,' the woman said. 'And you already have that.' And she laughed.

* * *

As five o'clock approached, there was still no sign of the delivery van. But at least the flat was beginning to look 'organised'. 'We may as well get freshened up and get ourselves down to the pub,' Jack told his sister. 'I confess to having worked up a bit of a thirst. And the delivery guys have my number. It will only take two minutes to get back here once they finally arrive.'

* * *

The Golden Cock appeared to be everything that Jack had hoped that it would be. And Toby, the estate agent, was waiting at the bar. 'How is it going?' he asked with just a hint of trepidation in his voice.

'Surprisingly well,' Wendy told him. 'We seem to be about three-quarters of the way there.'

'We're a couple of pieces of furniture short,' Jack told him. 'But they are supposed to arrive at any moment.' And Jack tapped his phone that was tucked into his shirt pocket.

'So... what will it be?' Toby asked. 'The ale here is pretty good. And Doris keeps a pretty drinkable selection of wines.'

Wendy chose a glass of Pinot Grigio and Jack opted for a pint of Best.

'Welcome to Market Madeley,' Toby said, raising his own glass.

Jack had barely had a chance to take a sip of his beer when his phone rang. It was the customer care support agent with whom he had spoken earlier. 'There has been a complication,' she said.

'Oh?'

'Yes. Your furniture may have been delivered to the wrong house.'

'May have?'

'Well... almost certainly has.'

'So, what now?' Jack asked.

'We are hoping that we will be able to, umm, recover it. Retrieve it. Whatever.'

'Oh, good.'

'In the morning.'

'In the morning?'

'We are hoping so,' the woman said.

'But that's my bed,' Jack said. 'I need it tonight. To sleep on.'

'Yes.'

'Yes what?' Jack said.

'Do you perhaps have another bed?'

'No.'

'Oh.' There was a long pause, and then the customer care support agent said: 'The thing is... the people at the other house don't seem to be there at the moment.'

'Where are they?' Jack asked.

'Well, that's just it,' the woman said. 'They may have gone on holiday.'

'On holiday?'

'Possibly,' the woman said.

'So, what about my bed?'

'We, umm, may be able to get you another one,' she said.

'Another one? Well... OK.'

'But not until the morning.'

'But what about tonight?'

'The warehouse is closed now,' the woman said. 'It doesn't open again until 8am tomorrow.'

Jack offered several more suggestions but, in the end, he had to accept that he was pushing on a securely barred and bolted door.

'A problem?' Wendy asked.

'The fucking furniture people. It seems that they have delivered my new bed to the wrong house. And it also seems that the people who live there have now gone off on holiday.'

Wendy laughed. 'Don't worry,' she said. 'We'll work something out. Enjoy your beer. Oh... and this is Hannah. She's our downstairs neighbour. Hannah runs the bookshop.'

'The famous Melvyn Frost,' Hannah said, reaching out to shake Jack's hand. 'Science Made Simple. We shall have to get you down for a book signing.' And she smiled.

* * *

Jack and Wendy had felt pretty positive about the idea of moving out to Market Madeley. And after they had met a few of their new neighbours, they felt even more sure that they had made the right move. 'Bit of a bugger about the bed though,' Jack said, as he eyed up their less-than-Jack length sofa.

'Don't worry. You can come a sleep in my bed,' his sister said. 'It's more than big enough for two.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. We'll make it work. It might be fun. Now... supper. Quiche and salad?'

'Sounds pretty good to me,' Jack said. 'And perhaps another glass of wine?'

Wendy smiled and nodded.

* * *

The salmon quiche was rather good. And, with the aid of a large glass of Pinot Gris on top of the couple of pints of Best that he had consumed at the pub, Jack began to feel a little less grumpy about the messed up delivery. Well, perhaps not less grumpy. He was still less than pleased that his purchases had not been delivered as promised. But at least he felt less stressed at not being able to do anything about it.

* * *

'I think that I might need an early night,' Wendy said when they had finished their supper. 'Unpacking and finding new homes for things is surprisingly tiring.'

Jack had to agree. 'Yeah. And if we get an early start tomorrow, we could have everything sorted by lunchtime. Why don't you go and have first use of the bathroom, and I'll put the dishes into the dishwasher.'

* * *

Jack had finished loading the dishwasher and was just giving the kitchen surfaces a last wipe down, when Wendy arrived to get herself a glass of sparkling water. 'Can I get one for you while I'm at it?' she asked Jack.

'Umm... yes. Thank you. That would be good.'

Wendy was dressed for bed in baggy cotton sleep shorts and an equally baggy T-shirt. For a woman in her late thirties, she was still in remarkably good nick.

'Which side do you want?' Jack asked, when they reached the bedroom.

'I think I should be Captain,' his sister said. 'After all, it is my bed.' And she laughed. 'Yours seems to be lost in the post.'

'Fair enough. I'll take the right hand side then. The First Officer's side.'

'It'll be like it was when we used to go and stay with granny at her cottage down on the edge of Romney Marsh,' Wendy said. 'You and I sharing the big bed.'

'That was a long time ago,' Jack said. 'A long time ago.'

They both got into bed and turned off the lights. And then Wendy leaned across and kissed her brother on the cheek. 'I think I like this house already,' she said. 'I think we're going to like living here.' And then she reached out and squeezed Jack's hand.

* * *

When Jack woke up at one stage during the night, his sister was snuggled up against him. She was fast asleep. At least Jack assumed that she was fast asleep.

* * *

When Jack came to the following morning, his sister was already up and about. And there was a delicious aroma of coffee wafting from the direction of the kitchen. And then his sister was standing in the doorway. 'Ah, you're awake,' she said. 'Ready for coffee?'

'I am,' Jack said. 'Although first I need to pee.'

'Well, you do that. I'll pour the coffee,' Wendy said.

Jack waited until his sister had headed back to the kitchen, then he rearranged what was left of his morning wood and made for the bathroom.

'I thought that we had better get organised,' Wendy said, when Jack joined her in the kitchen. 'Just in case the delivery chaps arrive early.'

'Oh? Have they phoned?'

'No. Not yet. Unless you have a missed call.'

Jack checked his phone. There were no missed calls.

* * *

For some reason, Jack had in his mind that the delivery chaps would probably arrive sometime between ten and eleven. But when eleven o'clock came and went without hide nor hair, he decided to call the customer care number again. Greensleeves was still the song of choice.

When Jack finally got to speak to a human being, it was to the same woman he had spoken to the previous day. 'I'm hoping for an update,' he told her.

'An update? Of course. Just let me put you on hold for a moment,' she said. And it was back to Greensleeves. But before she returned, there was a ring on the doorbell. The delivery crew had arrived.

Jack abandoned Greensleeves and went to let the delivery guys in. The chap who seemed to be in charge looked at the stairway. 'Hmm. I think we should be OK,' he said. 'We'll give it a go, shall we?'

It was OK. They got the table up the stairs and into the kitchen-diner without any difficulty. And then the chap who seemed to be in charge handed Jack his iPad. 'If you'll just scrawl yer moniker on there somewhere, squire.'

'And the bed?' Jack said.

'The bed?'

'Yes. There's suppose to be a bed. Frame. Bedhead. Mattress.'

The chap who seemed to be in charge took back his iPad, made a few swipes, and studied the screen. Frowned. Then he shook his head. 'No. No bed, squire. Just one table. No bed. No bedhead. No mattress.'

'There's supposed to be a bed,' Jack assured him.

'Maybe phone customer care,' the chap who seemed to be in charge said. 'Sometimes they split up the deliveries. Though goodness knows why. I have a number here somewhere.'

'Thanks. I already have the number,' Jack said.

* * *

While the table had been being delivered, Wendy had been down at the corner store, buying a few bits and pieces. 'The table looks great,' she said, when she returned.

'Yes. It does. But there's still no bed,' Jack told her.

'Oh?'

'I'm going to have to call that bloody woman again.'

'I'll make a fresh pot of coffee,' his sister said.

'The way things are going,' I might need something stronger than coffee,' Jack told her.

* * *

Greensleeves really was beginning to get on Jack's nerves. Why couldn't they expand the repertoire? But, eventually, he got to speak to a human being. A new woman. Well, a different woman, anyway. Jack explained the non-delivery and the various discussions he had already had. Then he braced himself for another twenty-five choruses of Greensleeves. But the woman didn't put him on hold.

'Ah, yes. Mr Frost. Exchange Street, Market Madeley?'

'That's me.'

'Ah, yes. One Tavistock dining table. Delivered. And one Sweet Dreams double bed set and mattress... umm... on back order.'

'Back order?'

'Well... technically. But it's scheduled to leave the factory tomorrow morning.'

'Factory? It was coming from a warehouse. This morning.'

There was a brisk tapping at the other end, and then the woman said: 'It looks as if the warehouse was out of stock. So they have had to get one from the factory.'

'Where's the factory?' Jack asked.

The woman laughed. 'Oh, don't worry. It's not in China or anywhere. It's just up the road. In Northallerton. By the looks of it.'

'Northallerton is almost in Scotland,' Jack said.

'Probably,' the woman said. 'Somewhere up there, anyway.'

* * *

'How did you get on?' Wendy asked, when her brother returned to join her in the kitchen-diner.

'Apparently,' Jack told her, 'the bed is currently at a factory in Northallerton. And hopefully tomorrow -- or possibly the next day -- it will be despatched to a warehouse somewhere near Northampton. From there, at some stage, it will be delivered to us. Unless, of course, it gets delivered to the wrong address. Which is always a possibility.'

'Oh, stop fretting,' Wendy said. 'Last night worked out OK. In fact, I quite liked it. I liked having you there. Now... what do you fancy for supper this evening?'

'What are the options?'

'We have some duck breasts. Maybe duck breasts with a roasted plum sauce on pommes puree -- a k a flash mash -- and tender stem broccoli. Any appeal?'

'Perfect.'

'Done,' Wendy said. 'Or at least it will be.'

* * *

While Wendy continued to arrange and rearrange things in the kitchen, Jack went off to his new study overlooking the street. Yes, Wendy was right. Sharing her bed had been OK. Well, it had been better than OK. It had been... very nice. But Wendy was his sister. So Jack tried not to think too much about that.

* * *

Supper was excellent. The tin of plums that Wendy had been planning to turn into a baked plum sauce had somehow disappeared. But Wendy had improvised with a tin of apricots and a generous splash of lemon juice. And Jack opened a bottle of New Zealand Pinot Noir. Afterwards, to go with their coffee, Jack suggested a glass of Calvados. 'Why not? Wendy said. 'I have to go dry tomorrow. I'm flying again on Saturday.'

'The City of Brotherly Love?' Jack said.

'Brotherly love. The very same,' Wendy said. And then she got up to go to the bathroom. And, as she passed Jack, she paused, leaned down, and kissed him. It was rather more than just a sisterly kiss. Or was he imagining things?