The Postman

The Postman

It wasn't until he rang the doorbell to get a special delivery signature that I noticed the new postman. I'd gone down to the front door in my white dressing gown, brown hair messed by sleep, eyes puffy, pillow lines across my left cheek, and been confronted by a man in his late twenties with sparkling, brown eyes and a smile to die for.
All that Monday the image of his face came back to me without bidding as I sat behind my desk at the accountancy firm and daydreamed. I came up with a simple plan to see him again, only this time I'd be up and ready for his arrival. I'd post something to myself which was too big for my letterbox.
On Tuesday I went down to the post office carrying a package in my hands. It contained the first video I'd ever bought, which was of my all-time favourite film, The Wizard of Oz.
On Wednesday morning I got up especially early and spent a while before the bathroom mirror trying to beatify myself. I wasn't going to let him see me in the same state as he had the first time. I tied my hair back, applied mascara and a hint of eye-shadow, and brushed my teeth.
The doorbell rang and I realised I was still in my dressing gown, though I'd intended to be wearing my shortest, black skirt and a white blouse with the top buttons strategically left undone.
Shaking my head in annoyance, I went downstairs and opened the glass front door. 'Morning,' I said with as much radiant cheer as I could muster.
'Morning,' he replied, smiling his heart melting smile and holding out the brown package.
'Thanks,' I said as I took it from him, making sure my fingers touched his.
'No problem.' He turned and began to walk away.
'It's The Wizard of Oz,' I commented in a desperate attempt to get him to linger at my door.
'Good choice,' he said with a backwards glance over his shoulder. 'It's one of my favourite films. Dorothy's great.'
'It's one of my favourite films too,' I replied as he walked off and my hopes of striking up a conversation, inviting him in, and getting to know him before a possible seduction, vanished in a bag of letters yet to be delivered.
I closed the door and decided to try the same tactic again. On Thursday I was back at the post office holding another package to go in the first class post. This time it was The King and I, my hope being that classic musicals were a shared interest.
I was ready for him by the time he rang my bell for the third time, even the kettle was on the boil. Smoothing down my dark skirt, I opened the door and came face to face with a fifty year old stand-in postman.
'Oh!' I exclaimed without thinking.
'Something wrong, miss?' he asked.
'No, not at all,' I replied quickly as I took the package from his hands and closed the top of my blouse when I noticed his wayward glances.
He grinned knowingly. 'He'll be back next week,' he said before walking away.
I waited till the Monday of the following week to post The King and I again. On Tuesday morning I was ready and excited by the prospect of seeing him. It was raining outside and I felt hopeful he'd accept an invitation into the dry for a coffee and chat.
The doorbell rang and I tried to stay calm despite the fact I'd been thinking about this moment all weekend. Opening the front door, I smiled my best smile.
'Morning,' he greeted with the package in his hands.
'Morning,' I replied cheerily.
'Anything good this time?' he enquired as he handed me the package.
'The King and I.'
'What a great film,' he said enthusiastically. 'I love the king of Siam.'
I took a deep breath and chanced my arm. 'Would you like to come in to dry off and have a coffee?'
'Okay,' he replied sheepishly, raindrops glistening on his smooth cheeks as he entered and put his bag of post on the fawn carpet.
I shut the door and we walked into the kitchen on the right just as the kettle came to the boil.
'Perfect timing,' I observed with a grin. 'My name's Beccy, by the way.'
'Alec,' he replied, eyes sparkling.
'How do you like your coffee, Alec?'
'White, no sugar, please,' he responded as I took two, pale mugs from a shelf and then made the drinks.
I handed him a steaming mug. 'You like classic musicals then?' I asked, blowing on the surface of my drink.
'Love 'em,' replied Alec brightly.
'Maybe you should come round one evening to watch a couple,' I suggested hopefully.
'Look, Beccy, there's something you should know,' he said with a hint of nervousness.
My heart sank. 'You're married?'
He shook his head. 'No.' Alec looked me in the eyes. 'You're not the only one who likes a bit of first class male, if you get my drift.'
It took a moment for the penny to drop. 'Oh!' I exclaimed, feeling disappointed.
'I'm sorry,' Alec frowned.
'There's nothing to apologise for,' I assured him. 'As long as you'll still come round to watch some musicals.'
The bright smile returned to Alec's face. 'Definitely.'
We chatted some more and arranged to watch a couple of films the following evening. Then we went back to the front door and Alec opened it after picking up his postbag.
'Thanks for the drink,' he said happily. 'See you tomorrow at eight.'
'Don't get too wet,' I commented with an upward glance at the dark rain clouds.
'I don't mind, I like Singing in the Rain too,' Alec replied with a grin as he walked away to continue his deliveries.