“Sir, Please Don’t Push—Oh, Is That Smell Coming From You? Sorry… Rita’s Chance Encounter With Yuri:…

Excuse me, sir, could you give me a bit of space? Good grief. Is that smell coming from you?
Sorry, the man mumbled, shuffling aside.
And then something else under his breathfrustrated and sad. He was counting out some small change in his palm, probably not enough for what he needed. Kate couldnt help, but glance at his face. Odd he didnt look drunk.
Sorry, sir. I didnt mean to be rude, she blurted, strangely unable to just turn and walk away.
Its all right.
He looked up at her, and his eyesso bright blue, clear as anything, not faded at all. He seemed around Kate’s age, too. Shed never seen eyes like that, not even when she was younger.
Kate gently took him by the elbow and led him away from the little queue at the till.
Is everything all right? Do you need any help? She tried not to wrinkle her nose.
Finally, she realised what the faint smell wasnot drink, just old, stale sweat. He said nothing, slipping his hands with the change into his pocket. He seemed embarrassed to admit what was really up. To a woman, and a well-put-together one at that.
My names Kate. And yours?
Peter.
So, do you actually need a hand? She suddenly felt silly, as though she was foisting herself on him.
A tramp, and she was all but insisting on helping him. He darted those piercing eyes at her, clearly avoiding looking again. Whatever. She was about to go when all of a sudden he said,
Im after work. Do you know if theres anything going round here? Bit of DIY or chores? Its a good-sized village, but I dont know a soul. Sorry
Kate just listened, and by the end Peter was muttering, all flustered again. She found herself wondering if it was wise to just invite someone like him into her house. But shed been planning to get the bathroom tiles replaced. Her son had promised hed do it himselfDont get any useless tradesmen in, Mumbut he was always too busy.
Can you lay tiles? she asked.
I can, yes.
How much would you want for a 10-square-metre bathroom?
He gave a low whistle. Clearly surprised by the bathroom’s size.
Would have to have a look. To be honest, just whatever you thinks fair.
Peter did the bathroom using real care and skill. First he asked if he could have a showerKate was relieved he thought to. She just hoped he wouldnt leave anything undesirable behind. She gave him some clothes of her late husbands and let him wash his own things. Peter finished the job in a weekend. He chiselled off the old tiles, cleared up neatly, wiped down the tools and put everything back exactly as it was. By Sunday evening the new tiles shone and gleamed on the walls and floor. Kate was a bit uneasy as Peter finished uphe was almost certainly homeless. Should she let him stay one more night? But showing him the door at midnight seemed inhumane.
Saturday night she barely sleptlocked herself in and lay listening for sounds. But Peter, it seemed, had worked himself out and slept soundly on the sofa.
All done, Kate! he called when it was ready.
No need to say morethe job was flawless.
Peter, what did you used to do? she asked, admiring his handiwork.
Physics teacher. Qualified at Manchester Uni.
Oh, Manchester.
Back then, yes. As for the tiling I just reckon a man should be able to turn his hand to this sort of thing. At least, thats my view.
Kate nodded, pulling the money from her pocket. She wasnt stingyshe paid what shed planned to give a hired builder. Without glancing at it, Peter pocketed the cash and started putting his shoes on. His clothes were dry now, and hed changed back.
Hang on! Are you just off then, just like that? Kate was half annoyed, half shocked.
Whats wrong? he asked, looking up again with those incredible blue eyes.
At least have something to eat! You worked all day. You only stopped for teawouldnt even take a break.
Peter hesitated, then gave a small smile and said,
All right then, if youre sure. Thanks.
Kate sat with him, even had a bit of fish herselfthough she never ate after six, usually. Thing was, it was actually enjoyable sitting with him. Peter was charming, a good talker, and clever to boot. But there was this sense about him, a sort of lostness that didnt wash away, not with a shower, not with warm food and a bit of a heart-to-heart. Maybe that just needed time.
Peter, what actually happened to you? Sorry if that’s too forward.
He was quiet for a bit, then said,
Honestly, if I tell you, it’ll just sound daft, or like I made it up. Ive heard so many sob stories these past eight years. Only mine well, mine really happened. Why do you want to know?
I just cant get my head round how someone like you ended up in this situation
Peter met her gaze for a long moment, and then they both stood from their chairs at the same time. They got in each others way, and then everything just happened. Kate would never have imagined something like that, not at fifty-three. Shed thought passion was just for the young. The real, consuming, overwhelming kind.
Later, he told her how eight years ago, he tried to help one of his studentsa bright lad from a rough family, whod been drawn into the wrong crowd. The kid wanted out, but it wasnt as easy as that. So Peter, Mr. Richards to the pupils, tried to sort it out with the ringleadera twenty-two-year-old with no morals at all. They didnt talk; they just set on Peter. Luckily, hed kept up his judo all his life. Peter laid them out, but the main one smashed into a brick wall, snapped his spine. He didnt make it. Peter called the ambulance and the police himself, sure hed only be up for excessive self-defence at best. Wouldnt even call it excessive, given it was a pack attack.
He was convicted of manslaughter under section eighteen, and served eight years out of twelve with good behaviour.
Even in prison life carries on, was all he said about it.
And then, when he got outnobody waited. His mother died, after selling her flat and going to live with his uncle. The uncle’s wife made it clear,
I dont want some ex-con staying in this house.
His own wife had long since divorced him and remarried. So he went from Manchester to London, but luck was nowhere to be found. He wanted honest work, but who would hire a man after eight years in prison? Jobs around the village came to nothingpeople eyed him up like a leper, sometimes even got aggressive. Pretty soon he had nowhere to staynot even enough for a bed; the mate who let him crash at first gently told him not to outstay his welcome.
Been like this long? Kate asked, watching his cigarette glow by the window.
Two weeks, I suppose.
He was smoking her cigarettesshe kept a pack around, smoked about once every five years. Peter offered to buy his own but she wouldnt let him. Kate wondered how it felt, to live nowhere for two weeks.
It was easier, there in the darkness with just the ember of a cigarette, to tell the truth. Shed let him into her bedno point hiding it now.
Have you even got a passport?
Yes, he snorted. No address, and thats half the trouble.
Peter stayed. And it turned out brilliantly. Kate sorted a temporary address for him, he got a jobnothing fancy, just a retail assistant at the DIY shop, but for now it was something. On his days off, he did some tutoringscience, mathspicking up more and more students. Two and a half months passed in a whirlwind of small joys. Then Kates son arrived.
Sizing up the situation, he asked his mum to step outside for a chat.
Mum, you need to get rid of him.
Sorry, what? Kate was floored.
Theyd long since stopped interfering in each others lives.
Im serious. Get him out. You think hes hanging about because he loves you? Hes got nowhere else, Mum. Dont be daft!
Kate slapped Harry.
Dont you dare! Stay out of my life.
Mum, Im your heir! I dont want to have to share with some random bloke. What if you marry him? If anything happens, he gets a say!
You planning my funeral already? Kate snapped. What are you even after? I might outlive you yet.
Dont force my hand, Mum. Ill make things difficult for you both, whether you like it or not. I have to look after myself. If youd found a decent bloke with his act together, fine! But this
Ah, so decent just means loaded now? What happened to you? Did I raise you like that?
Mum, Ive said my bit. Ill be back in a week. I want him gone. Dont say I didnt warn you.
Kate went inside, blinking hard, refusing to cry.
Is he in the police? Peter asked quietly.
Sorry, I shouldve told you
You didnt owe me that. Whats his job?
Hes a detective in the Crown Prosecution Service. Hes a good lad. Just, you know, overcautious. He worries.
Well what are you going to do? he looked at her searchingly.
Kate sat down, at a complete loss. She didnt want to part with Peter. But putting them both through the wringer, fighting her son, it all felt too much.
Do you want me to say something? Ive got an idea, Peter offered gently.
She nodded, holding back tearsstuck.
Ive been saving, you know. Never asked you to chip in. Wont be enough for a place in this village, but twenty miles out, I can buy a bit of land. Stick up a caravan to start, build a house by hand, bit by bit, keep tutoring. Well make it work. What do you say?
Kate was stunned into silence.
Peter started to fret.
I know youre used to comfort. But its only for now. Ill make it lovely for you, I promise.
Peter Ive got some savings too. I can help pay for the build, Kate murmured.
I wouldnt dare ask.
Youre not. I want to. Its not just for youits for us.
Peter came over, hugged her, kissed her on the top of her head. Kate felt warmth, safety, love. And to think, at their age, that was even possible
They moved fast, got things sorted quickly. Peter wanted the deeds in her name, but she refused.
Ive already got a flat. The fact my lot kicked me out means nothingI still own it. But youve got nothing. Ive got an heir, remember? she quipped, thinking of her sons words.
They set up a caravan, got electricity, and Peter rolled up his sleeves and started on their house. Kates money wasnt quite enough, so Peter threw himself into tutoring with extra zeal, setting up a little corner to teach where nobody knew he was living in a caravan. Every penny they earned went towards the build. Brick by brick. On warm summer evenings theyd lay a blanket out on their bit of land and watch the stars.
What do you feel? Peter would ask, cuddling Kate.
Like Ive found a second wind, shed reply.
I feel like Ive found a second wind. And you should feel my love, hed laugh.
Oh, she did. Of course she did.
Kate popped home for her things. Autumn was comingshe needed proper clothes, thick blankets, a bit of crockery. She found Harry in the kitchen, cigarette in hand.
Oh, hi there, love. Just nipping in to get a few bits. How are you?
He eyed her up, surprised at how well she lookedtanned, slimmer.
Mum, whats going on? You never call.
Well were not that kind of family. Youre busy, you call me if you like.
Why cant I catch you at home?
Because I dont live here anymore. Just picking up my stuff. That all right?
Harry was silent, stunned. Something about his mum had changed. Not just the look of hershe was lighter, happier.
Love, when we get the house finished, youll have to come round. But nowIm in a rush, sorry.
Kate stuffed two bags full of her bits, hurried past Harry, pecked him on the cheek, and was halfway out.
Mum, whats got into you? he called after her.
She turned by the door, gave a dazzling grin.
Second wind, Harry. And love, of course. Its all about love! See you, darling, she laughed and dashed out.
There was no time to losethey were starting on the front porch today.