Short story

Mia knew the guy next door from the top of his head. She saw him leave the building when she was doing morning yoga on her balcony. From her downward dog she could see him going into the Tube station, headphones on, gym bag slung over his shoulder. Sometimes late in the evening, when she was watering her plants, she saw him going for a cycle, all kitted out in full Lycra.

Mia cycled an old fold-up bike that belonged to her mum’s next-door-neighbour. It was maroon with ‘Pizzazz’ written down the side. She was the kind of cyclist who crept onto the pavement when there were no pedestrians for fear of the London traffic. Neighbour guy would disapprove.

Now however, he wasn’t heading to the Tube every morning. No one was. There was an eerie quiet in the streets below. She’d even seen a sparrow for the first time. No, neighbour guy was sitting on a dining chair on his sparse, previously disused balcony.

Mia wasn’t used to people being out here. This was her space. Even Barney never came out here. He thought it was too Little Shop of Horrors with all the plants. He stayed inside on his Xbox and then he bought a Peloton bike and became obsessed with beating CharlieDude31 from Derbyshire in their hill sprints.

Mia came out with her watering can, unsure of the balcony etiquette.

The guy looked up. She’d never seen his face before. He wasn’t good-looking per se – his nose was too big and his eyes were too close together – but he was interesting. He was about to look straight back at his laptop when Mia found herself saying, ‘Hi,’ quite loudly, fed up with the London ignore. Surely this was the time for smiling?

The guy seemed surprised by the interaction. ‘Hi,’ he said and went back to his screen. Five minutes later – enough

‘I do miss him but it’s strangely liberating living on my own’

time not to seem rude, she figured – he went inside.

To Mia’s mortification, he came out the next morning with his coffee when she was midway through her sun salutes. If it wasn’t her favourite part of the day she’d have fled inside.

They made unexpected eye contact and smiled politely.

On the next balcony along, old Mrs Otis came outside to water her plants. ‘Morning,’ she said, all cheery. The guy nodded. Mia said, ‘Mrs Otis, I’m going to the supermarket later, do you need anything?’

‘Oh no dear, I don’t want to be a burden.’

‘It’s fine, honestly. Please,’ said Mia. ‘I can get you whatever you need.’

Mrs Otis paused. ‘ Well milk would be lovely. And bread.’

Mia nodded and got her phone out to take notes as Mrs Otis reeled off an entire shopping list.

Neighbour guy was holding in a smile.

When Mrs Otis went back inside, Mia said, ‘Do you need anything?’

‘I think you’ve got enough on your hands,’ he said dryly.

Mia laughed. ‘It’s not a hassle, I buy for my sister too, she works for the NHS.’

He nodded, impressed. ‘Sounds like I should be buying for you.’

That evening, Mia noticed he’d tidied up a bit. His balcony was no longer just a home for his smelly trainers and a racing bike, he now had a café table and chairs. The Amazon boxes were in the hallway.

‘Looks good.’ Mia nodded towards the new set-up.

There was a beer on the table. ‘I’ve never really sat out here before,’ he said. ‘I never had the time.’

‘I love it out here.’

He sat forward, taking a sip of beer. ‘Funny what you appreciate when you’ve got a bit more time. My work’s completely dried up. You?’

‘Yeah, me too.’ She finished watering her plants. ‘I’ve got my savings though, so I’m OK. And I’m volunteering.’

‘Really? That’s good.’ He made a face like the idea had never dawned on him.

‘I can give you the number.’ ‘OK,’ he said. Then after a pause, added, ‘You want a drink?’ gesturing to the beer on the table.

‘I’ve got a glass of wine inside.’ She hesitated. ‘Maybe I’ll bring it out.’

‘Do.’ He nodded. ‘ What about your bloke, does he want a beer?’

She was surprised he knew about Barney. She hadn’t imagined he’d noticed anything about his neighbours.

‘He’s not here any more,’ Mia said, cheeks flushing a little. ‘He er… he moved out as soon as we had to isolate together.’ She was embarrassed, she hadn’t told anyone yet and she found herself overexplaining. ‘Turns out he was having an affair with a woman from work.’

‘ Wow. Sorry.’ The guy looked equally awkward. ‘That’s harsh. I’m glad I don’t have time for relationships.’

As Mia went inside for her

wine, she found herself filing away the fact he wasn’t in a relationship.

When she came back out, he asked, ‘Are you OK? With all that?’

Mia leaned against her balcony, and thought about it. Was she OK? ‘Yeah, I think I am, thanks,’ she said, knowing it hadn’t been right for a while. ‘I do miss him but it’s strangely liberating living on my own again.’

‘I’ll bet,’ he replied. They sipped their drinks in silence, as awkward as it was comfortable.

A couple of days later, Mia psyched herself up to ask him something she’d wanted to ask for a while. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

‘ What?’

She suddenly felt silly for asking. ‘If I get it, if I get ill, you know, if one day I’m not sitting out here. Could you tap on the window and check I’m OK?’

He looked a bit surprised by the question. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Yeah I suppose so.’

‘Don’t worry though. If you don’t notice.’ Had she asked too much of a relative stranger? ‘You don’t have to feel responsible for me or anything. It’s just – well…’

‘No I get it, it’s fine.’ Then after a second he said, ‘ What if you’re getting dressed or something?’

‘I won’t mind!’ She blushed. He looked faintly embarrassed. ‘I don’t mean I wouldn’t mind you seeing me getting dressed.’ She paused. ‘You know what I mean. I give you permission to check, just in case. To jump the wall.’ She cringed. It was all way too intimate.

‘OK, fine,’ he replied. ‘Thanks. Do you want me to do the same for you?’

He shook his head. ‘Nah, I’ll be OK.’

‘Honestly, I don’t mind.’

‘I’m pretty self-sufficient,’ he replied.

‘OK.’ She tried not to take it as a snub.

It became a bit of a routine. The 7 o’clock balcony drink with neighbour guy, who turned out to be called Sam.

One evening, Mia said, ‘Do you think you’ll just go straight back to normal when it gets back to normal?’

He made a face. ‘I don’t know. Probably. But this is quite nice,’ he said, gesturing to the moment. The sun still bright. The air cool. The silence where there should have been traffic noise.

‘Maybe everyone will make some changes,’ she said. ‘Maybe,’ he replied.

‘I hope so,’ she said. And he smiled at her.

A week went by. Mia got more groceries for Mrs Otis who joined them on the balcony occasionally for a sherry. Sam started volunteering. Mia gave him a geranium for his café table. They even went for a cycle together, on different sides of the street. He laughed at her Pizzazz bike.

Then one evening, Sam wasn’t on the balcony. Mia spent extra long watering the plants waiting for him. He’d probably popped out.

When Mrs Otis came out, she said she hadn’t seen him either.

Mia checked again later that night, before she went to bed, and saw that his curtains were still open. No one popped out for long at the moment.

In the morning, she peered over again. The curtains hadn’t moved.

Mrs Otis appeared, face all worried. ‘Do you think he’s alright?’

‘I don’t know. He said he’d be fine on his own.’ He’d specifically denied her permission to jump the wall.

But then she felt like she knew him better now than before. She knew that he walked the dog of Mrs Collier from downstairs because she was severely at risk and couldn’t go out. She knew that he liked the plants on her balcony. She knew he swerved round pigeons when he cycled and had started reading again since she’d lent him the book she’d just finished. She felt like, if someone asked, she would no longer call him neighbour guy, she’d call him her friend.

And friends didn’t wait for permission to jump the wall, because their worry wouldn’t let them.

‘I’m going to check,’ Mia said, hoisting herself over the balcony partition.

‘Be careful, don’t get too close,’ Mrs Otis fretted, hiding half behind her own door.

‘You can’t catch it through glass, Mrs Otis.’

Mia walked tentatively

‘She’d no longer call him neighbour guy, but her friend’

across Sam’s balcony. She saw into his living room, the stark grey furniture, his bike leaning up by the door.

She walked on, to where the curtains were open in his bedroom. And she saw him flat out on his bed, sheets crumpled, room a mess.

‘ Well?’ urged Mrs Otis, looking terrified.

‘He’s awake but he doesn’t look very well.’ Mia tapped nervously on the window. He barely rolled his head. ‘Are you OK?’ she said through the glass.

He did a weak thumbs-up.

Mrs Otis was muttering in panic.

‘He says he’s OK, Mrs Otis, don’t worry.’

Calming Mrs Otis indirectly calmed Mia. To Sam she asked, ‘Do you need anything?’

He did a thumbs down. He looked terrible.

She wondered if he was annoyed, that she’d invaded his privacy. His phone was by his bed. There were obviously people he’d been able to tell that he was in trouble. Real friends.

‘OK, I just wanted to check. Sorry. I know you didn’t – I’ll go,’ she said.

As she turned, she thought she saw the imperceptible shake of his head.

Mia paused. Had she seen it or not? ‘Or I could stay?’ she offered. ‘If you want?’

This time, she saw it – just before he closed his eyes – his hand resting against his sheet in a thumbs-up.

Mia sat on his balcony all day. She did her yoga. She deadheaded his geranium and her plants. Mrs Otis watched from a distance with a cup of tea. Mia read her book. All the time with one eye on him, checking.

And then all through the night she set her alarm every hour to pop back across to see that he was OK.

When he could finally sit up, he said, ‘Thank you.’

And she said, ‘No problem.’ When he could walk to the window, he said, voice muffled through the glass, ‘Not quite as self-sufficient as I thought.’ She smiled.

He looked away, towards the flats opposite and then back to Mia. ‘I erm,’ he paused. ‘ Well. If I wasn’t quarantined, and we weren’t locked down, I erm, I’d like to take you out for a drink. To say thanks,’ he said. It was the first time he’d looked remotely shy.

‘Oh right.’ Mia blushed. ‘So how does the balcony, 7 o’clock in seven days’ time sound?’

She grinned. ‘Sounds perfect.’