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‘Dog pee?’ He scrunched up his nose as he carefully manoeuvred his way up the stairs, his eyes fixed on the floor beneath his smart leather shoes.

‘Yep, our neighbours…’ She swallowed as she corrected herself. ‘My neighbours have a tendency to let their dog out onto the landing instead of taking her for a walk when she needs to do her business.’

‘I see.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Sure you do. Polly ran her hand along the banister as she climbed the stairs. They had four floors to climb, but she figured this was safer than attempting to use the lift. She could only imagine the look of horror Zac would show if it was having one of its off days and got stuck between floors two and three again. Yep, although his reaction would be priceless, she didn’t want him thinking any worse of her home than he likely already was. Besides, after escaping the confines of his car, she wasn’t about to go willingly into the smaller confines of the lift with him.

‘What floor are you on?’

‘Four.’ She paused and turned. ‘If you’re struggling, I’m happy to take those from you and make my own way up.’

‘No, no, it’s fine. I’m not struggling.’ He glanced behind him as the door buzzed open, a waft of cold air filling the concrete stairwell.

‘Okay, well, I can still go up on my own. Save you the trip.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. His reaction to this part was bad enough, she didn’t want to see how he’d react if he saw inside her grandparents’ flat. However garishly it was decorated, however cluttered it was, it had been her childhood home, and it was her sanctuary. Still.

‘Nope, I’m seeing you to your door.’ Zac jogged up to the step she was standing on before continuing past her.

‘Hey, wait up.’ Turning, she took her hand off the banister and began jogging up the stairs too.

Pausing five steps ahead of her, Zac treated her to one of his famous charming smiles. ‘If you’re struggling, you can always take the lift.’

‘Oi!’ Shaking her head, she smiled too as she quickened her pace and sped ahead of him. She could feel him close behind her, could hear his chuckle in her ear as he rounded the corner and raced in front of her. This almost felt like old times, before the incident she never wished to speak of again. They’d been friends then, had messed around like this. It was just as though he’d forgotten he was supposed to be treating her with indifference. Perhaps the talk they’d had in the car, however awkward it had been and however much she’d wished the ground had opened up and swallowed her whole, had been worth it. Perhaps following Nicola and Stacey’s advice had done something after all.

As he rounded the stairwell again, Zac stopped abruptly.

‘What?’ Joining him, she held her hand up in acknowledgement as she realised the reason he’d come to a stop so suddenly was because Mr Greene was sitting on the top step, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a half-empty bottle of beer by his feet. ‘Hi, Mr Greene. How are you today?’

As he saw her, a smile broke through Mr Greene’s long and bushy beard as he gripped the banister above his head and pulled himself to standing. ‘Miss Polly. What a sight for sore eyes you are. Are you moving back in?’

‘Nope, afraid not. I’m back to do a spot of cleaning before another viewing on Monday.’ Polly gave the older man a hug, coughing as he breathed out a lungful of cigarette smoke in her face.

‘Sorry, love. This cough…’ Sitting back down, he banged his chest with his fist as he hacked. ‘You’re still moving on, then?’

‘I am.’ Polly nodded. Mr Greene was another reason she felt so torn when thinking about the flat being sold. He’d lived here for as long as she could remember and after her grandad had passed away, he’d insisted on taking on any DIY her grandma had needed doing around the place.

‘Well, good for you, girl. Get out and see the world. That’s what I’ve always told you, isn’t it?’ Mr Greene picked up his half-empty beer bottle and held it up to Polly. ‘Drink?’

‘I’m good, thanks. I had a coffee before we left.’ Polly held her hand up and smiled. He’d been offering her a sip of his beer since she’d moved in with her grandparents at age nine. She’d been tempted once, when she was thirteen and a group of her friends had stayed over, but after almost swallowing a stray beard hair, the experience had put her off beer for life.

‘You, boy?’ Mr Greene held his cigarette between his finger and thumb as he spoke, nodding towards his bottle.

‘Thanks, but I’m driving.’ Zac pointed his thumb in the direction of the road.

Pulling himself to standing again, Mr Greene peered through the large glass windows looking out onto the street below. ‘Nice wheels. They must have been expensive.’

‘Er… thanks. And no, they were a present from my parents and are pretty old now.’ Zac shrugged, his ears pinking.

Pulling a face, Mr Greene sat back down before tugging on Polly’s coat. ‘You’ve done well with this one, then. Money in the family and all that.’

‘Oh, we’re not…’ Shaking her head vehemently, it was Polly’s turn to morph into a bright shade of cerise.

‘No?’ Mr Greene looked from Polly to Zac, who shook his head slowly. ‘Right, well, I suppose the best relationships do indeed blossom from friendship.’

Keeping her lips tightly squeezed together, Polly refrained from telling him that, yes, indeed they had been friends, right up until the moment they’d shared that darn kiss and then, instead of blossoming, their relationship had dried up and died completely. ‘I’d better get a wriggle on, Mr Greene. I’ve got a lot to get on with, but it was lovely to see you again.’

‘And you, Polly, love. You’ll pop by for a drink sometime?’ Mr Greene lifted his beer bottle.

‘I will. I promise.’ Turning, Polly called over her shoulder, ‘Take care, Mr Greene.’