A Box at the Door

Emma was making tea when she heard someone carrying boxes along the third-floor corridor. The flat next door had been empty for weeks, and she wondered whether the new tenant had finally moved in. A few minutes later, she opened her door and picked up a parcel from the floor.

The building number was correct, but the name on the label was not hers. It read “Mr Payne, Flat 3B.” Emma lived in 3A. She decided not to leave the parcel outside because the window at the end of the corridor was open and rain was blowing in. “I’ll drop it off next door,” she thought.

She carried the parcel to the next door and knocked. A man opened it with a cup of tea in his hand. Behind him were suitcases, books and several boxes that had not yet been unpacked. “I think this belongs to you,” Emma said.

Mr Payne thanked her and explained that he had moved in that morning. “I haven’t put my name on the door yet. Perhaps the driver confused 3A with 3B,” he said. The parcel contained a desk lamp, which he needed because there was hardly any light in his living room. “I’ll set it up tonight and turn it on,” he said. He asked Emma where he could buy food nearby. She looked up the supermarket on a map and warned him that it closed early on Sundays.

They chatted for another minute before Emma went back to her tea. That evening, someone knocked on her door. It was Mr Payne, holding a small bag of biscuits as a thank-you. Emma invited him in for a cup of tea. The delivery mistake had turned into a friendly introduction.