LUCKY

He wore an Arsenal shirt, that only later was I to discover had on its back the assumed name, ‘TYLER,’ above the numeral '4'.
He was talking to a woman wore grey and they were standing on the walkway to the flats as I came round the corner of Hillview late this afternoon.
Over the road, through a gap in the parked cars, along the pavement towards where they were saying goodbye.
‘Tch,’ as they walked to the door so we’d meet and might have to say, ‘Hello.’
A car, hatchback open, Ikea large blue bag, bedding, football, something else.
At the entrance she held the door, turned to me, heard me, she smiled and said, ‘Hello.’
‘Hello,’ I said and followed him in nodding when our eyes met as he backed through the inner double doors.
‘Corridor?’ I thought but he went the way of the lift.
What floor?’ I said and then, ‘Just moving in?’ having decided not to spend the journey looking at the floor, saying nothing.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I can’t shake hands,’ they being full of box and, the nearest to me, the keys I noticed when he shook them.
I reached out my hand, held his briefly, we introduced ourselves.
‘See you around,’ he said as he got out.
‘Bye,’ I said and thought, ‘He was lucky it was me he said that too.’