The Postie Knows stuff

(Another competition shortlisting this week... a competition I was also shortlisted in last year! Better than missing altogether. Not bitter about not being amongst the prizewinners... it's never an absolute judgement of the work... even when you win. One person's POV on one particular day is what it is... on another day another person might have preferred yours... where's the point in getting bitter about that?)

WHAT THEY MIGHT BE SAYING ABOUT SUSAN DOWNS

Blair was stopped by Susan Downs. Just near the end of his run. She laid a hand on his arm as if to hold him back.

‘Are you expecting something?’ he said. ‘A special letter, maybe? Only there’s nothing else this morning.’ He patted his almost empty postbag and gestured to the small collection of letters he had in his hand. ‘I can look for you when I get back to the post office, if you like.’

Susan shook her head. She did not remove her hand from Blair’s arm. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile.

‘You know things,’ she said.

Blair looked up the street. As if he might be observed. Then he looked back at Susan Downs.

‘There’s things you see. Things you hear. On your rounds. All kinds of things, I shouldn’t wonder.’

Blair tried to smile again. He did not know why Susan Downs was asking him this. He did not know where she was leading him or what she wanted him to say.

‘I try not to hear, Mrs Downs. Not private things. Try not to see them, either. And the things I do witness I keep to myself. Wouldn’t pay to go telling what I know. So I say nothing.’

Susan nodded and pressed his arm.

‘Would it be against the rules if you came in for a moment?’

Blair looked nervously to left and right. At the far end of the street there was a boy standing on the green, watching. His name is Kelso and he is the father of Grace’s baby. Blair is the only one who knows, apart from Grace.

‘It is sort of against the rules,’ he said.

‘Then I won’t tell anyone,’ she said and she gripped his arm a little and pulled him towards her front door.

Once inside she let go her grip and asked him if he would like something to drink.

‘It’s Blair isn’t it?’ she said. ‘You were ahead of me in school. Seems such a long time ago now. So very far away.’

He cleared his throat but did not speak.

‘Never expected then that I’d be where I am now.’

Blair did not know what she meant.

She moved further into the room and sat down.

‘What are they saying?’ she asked him. ‘You can tell me. I know they’ll be saying something. People out there.’

Blair said nothing. Not at first. He knew if he started then all kinds of things would be said and he’d afterwards wish he could take them back.

‘Had my hair done yesterday.’

‘Suits you,’ Blair said, so quiet that she might not have heard.

‘I don’t know why I did that.’

He cleared his throat again and bowed his head. The silence stretched between them. Blair shuffled the letters in his hand, looking at the names and addresses, and the franked stamps in the corners. He cleared his throat again. ‘They say you are worth more than this,’ he said at last, speaking quickly.

She waited for him to say something more.

‘They say that Susan Downs has it hard. That she should up and leave him. That she stays when she should go. That she stays for the girl. And she suffers and puts a brave face on her suffering. That’s what they say.’

Blair took a deep breath. He hoped that she believed what he said. If it wasn’t near the truth, then it should have been. It was what he thought at least, when he dared to consider the things he knew.

'Thank you, Blair,' she said, and her voice was softer than before, and she leaned forward and she touched his arm again.