The Bin Men

Rita settled into her armchair next to the living room window. The sun’s warmth was on her face, and it was going to be a beautiful day. The birds were already in their full early morning chorus; she imagined the singing was for her; it lifted her spirits and comforted her, knowing they were there to greet her every morning.

George handed her the phone. She kept her eyes closed and smiled as she clutched it to her chest; it was her lifeline to the outside world. She listened as he disappeared into the kitchen before pressing the speed dial button George had already programmed in. He knew her so well.

“Sue?”

“What bloody time is it?” Replied a sleepy voice.

“You’re in a good mood, aren’t you?” Rita chuckled to herself.

“I’m still in bed.”

“Late night? Been up to no good, have we?”

“I’m seventy five, what do you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m guessing an all-night session with your toy boy, maybe a few drinks to keep you on your toes. Then, a five-mile run first thing this morning, and you’ve taken a power nap before I rudely interrupted you.”

“Rita, I love you as a friend, but I also worry about you sometimes.”

“The bin men will be here soon. I wanted to give you a running commentary.”

“Really? A brief recap at a later hour would suit me fine, if at all, thank you.”

“Spoil sport.” Rita tucked the phone under her chin, then leaned towards the window, straining to hear the approaching lorry.

After a few moments came the familiar sounds, the low rumble of a slow-moving vehicle, and the mechanical sounds of machinery and bins being shaken and rattled to release their dubious contents. She peeled back the blinds in anticipation.

“I can hear them Sue, it won’t be long now.” She realised she was whispering.

“Please don’t tell me they’re shirtless again. I know it’s a warm day, but I don’t need that kind of image in my head. Thank you. I’ve got Bert coming round to mow the lawns later, and he is such a disappointment compared to how you describe them, his gout makes him walk strangely, and if he ever took off his shirt, I’m not sure I could keep my lunch down.”

“You know how to ruin things, don’t you? I imagine you left your toy boy wanting this morning, didn’t you?”

“I don’t have a bloody toy boy Rita. I don’t have anyone except my cat, Alfie, and all he does is eat and fart. He’s more than enough for me to look after at my age, thank you.”

“He sounds like my George, but I expect Alfie is more agile, if you know what I mean?”

“Rita!! Will you behave? I’ll hang up. That would spoil your fun, wouldn’t it?”

Rita took a deep breath. Sue could be highly strung at times, hard work even. She had spent too many years on her own, but she loved her regardless and didn’t want her to hang up, not now.

“I can see them.” She said, to keep her on the line, her heart now fluttering with excitement.

Rita smelled the scent of flowers wafting in through the open window, summer in all its glory, her favourite time of the year. Then, as she continued to breathe in its splendour, several bronzed bodies came into her view. She gasped. She couldn’t help it. Her imagination went into overdrive.

“Oh God, Sue, you should be here to see this.”

“I’m quite happy with what I’ve got. Have I ever told you about old Mr Evans over the road? Washing his mobility scooter on a Sunday morning in his shorts and vest, it’s quite enough for me, especially when he wears his black socks and sandals. His fashion sense is incredible. Maybe I should ring you next time I see him cavorting around on his drive?”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

“No, a generous dose of sarcasm, more likely. So what kind of fashion sense are your bin men displaying today?”

“The best Sue, the best.”

“Which is?”

“Two of them are in jeans and T-shirts, the tight fitting kind, if you know what I mean.”

“Really?”

“And the third, the new boy, he’s…” Her voice trailed off.

“He’s what?”

“In shorts, no T-shirt, just lots of bare skin. He’s all muscled and bronzed. I feel faint just looking at him.” She pressed her face to the window. Memories of her misspent youth flooded over her.

She heard George approaching from behind her. She knew he was trying to be quiet, bless him, but his arthritis made him drag his left leg sometimes. She could hear it scuffing along the shag pile carpet.

“Just a moment Sue, I think George wants me.” Without looking around, she cocked her head and waited for him to speak, but her mind was still focused on the bin men.

“It’s nearly time for your doctor’s appointment. We should make a move soon, love.” His voice was soft, kind, and reassuring. She didn’t know what she would do without him.

“I know dear, Sue and I are almost finished now. Just give me another minute.”

“Here’s your stick.” He pressed it gently into her free hand.

She felt herself being pulled back into the cold hard reality of her life. She contemplated throwing the stick across the room, but the urge subsided.

“Are the bin men still putting on a show?” Asked Sue.

“No,” she replied, slumping back into her chair, the spell broken, “they’ve moved on, I can’t see them anymore.”

“Is everything alright?”

Rita paused before answering. “I don’t know how you put up with me Sue, it must drive you mad listening to me rabbiting on, especially knowing my condition?”

The two friends allowed the silence to speak for them, a brief pause in time for them both to reflect. When Sue spoke, her voice crackled with emotion.

“You’re my friend. I care about you, even if you do wake me up at all hours with your wild stories.”

“They’re all I have now, my stories, my memories, and my imagination.”

“You have George, and you have me.”

“I know, but I feel lost, Sue, and sometimes I feel so alone and helpless. But yes, my stories help to keep the world alive for me. Sometimes I can forget my problems, when I’m lost in my memories and my imagination, but the trouble is it never lasts for more than a few fleeting moments.”

“My life can be so boring, Rita, but when you ring me, you light up my world, you make things come alive in a way nobody else could, and that is a special gift.”

Rita strengthened her grip on her stick. It was white, not that she could see it, but that’s the kind of stick people like her used. She was close to tears, that was another of Sue’s faults. She could get to the truth of things so easily, stir up those damn emotions.

“Rita?”

“I’m still here.”

“I thought you had run off after the bin men.”

“I’m blind Sue, not stupid.”

“Well, I had best let you go. You wouldn’t want to miss your appointment, would you? Same time tomorrow? Or are you going to surprise me and ring at midnight again?”

“I might call a little later in the morning, give you a lie in. We have the vicar coming, George and his bloody bell ringing group.”

“That should be fun.”

“Yes, it should.”

“And how do you think he will he be dressed, dare I ask?”

“I’m not sure yet. He might arrive on a Harley Davidson, so he will most likely be all in leather and covered in tattoos. That sounds appropriate. Last time I imagined he was on horseback, and the sweat made his T-shirt cling provocatively to his muscled chest. It drove me wild.” Rita nodded at the image as it formed in her mind.

“I thought he was nearly eighty?”

“He might look like that to you,” she replied, laughing, “but I see things differently, remember.”