It was Saturday evening, a time when the residents in the household often got together to socialise. The lounge, looked the way you would expect in rented bedsit accommodation, tired and well used. Three sofas were crammed into the space – at least two more than there was really room for. The carpet was heading in the direction of threadbare. The mantelpiece of the period fireplace was stained with the rings of a generation of wine and beer glasses, and the curtains, if you could call them that were hung from the windows on paper clips. Jane, Peter, Mary, Michael and Brian (though Brian was comatose) draped themselves across the sofas and the carpet.
Then there was a knock on the door.
Jane spoke. “I heard a knock”
Peter said “Yes, I wonder what it was”.
Mary said “Maybe it was the door”,
“Doors don’t knock” droned Michael.
Mary said “Never mind, I’ll get it.”
“What, the door?”, asked Michael, “You’ll need screwdriver. There’s one in the shed.”
“At least he knows where the screwdriver is” said Jane bitchily. Jane had never had much time for Michael.
“I’ll have a screwdriver too” said Brian, waking from his nap and oblivious to the ongoing conversation.
“Oh, Brian, don’t be so illogical. Mary is going to get the front door and she needs a screwdriver.” said Jane.
“I would too”, said Brian, his brain clearing. “You never know who you might meet at a front door. Best to take some sort of weapon with you just in case. Personally I would have chosen a knife, but each to their own I suppose.”
“No Brian she is going to get the door.”
“Why” Brian asked.
“BECAUSE there was a knock” Jane said impatiently.
“Doesn’t that mean there’s someone AT the door” Brian asked casually. The brain cells were beginning to work.
“I suppose it could” Peter said.
“Do you think they would enjoy a screwdriver too, I know I would” said Brian, bringing the subject back on topic.
“I can’t believe my ears. Brian. You said you’d given up the drink.” said Mary, struggling to bring the front door into the room.
“Only wine, cocktails don’t count” said Brian. “After all they are healthy. They have fruit juice in them – well the ones I drink do. I’m aspiring to be a great writer you know.”
“Then you should be drinking Margheritas slouched over some Caribbean bar, not hankering over a screwdriver in Peckham.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes. No-one had much to say.
“Getting a bit chilly” said Brian finally “Anybody know why”
“Its the front door” said Peter.
“I suppose that makes sense, said Brian. “Mary, can you take it out into the hall, it’s making this room far too cold.”
With a sigh, Mary got up. “Why is it always me who has to do these things” she said.
Suddenly Nigel appeared.
Peter looked up shocked. “How did you get in?” he asked.
It was the front door, said Nigel.
“I am definitely going insane” said Peter. How could you come in through the front door, It’s just over, oh no it’s gone, Mary just took it into the hall”
“I know” said Nigel, “I passed her, struggling with it. Where is she by the way?”
“Mary” Peter and Nigel called out together. No answer. “Mary” they all shouted, thinking perhaps she couldn’t hear them, after all they were at least five feet away. Still no reply, but there WAS a muffled knocking.
What’s that asked Peter.
Perhaps its a knock at the door said Nigel.
They listened intently, They could hear a gasping coming from the hallway and the knocking sounded urgent but somehow still muffled.
“It is, it is”, said Jane, “it’s the Front door.”
“Well never mind” said Michael, “Mary’s taken it off so whoever it is can come in if they want.”
ooo
The cat pawed at the door confused. She’d never seen the front door horizontal before. As usual, she wanted to go out because she was in. And of course she’d want to come in once she was out. She ignored the gaping hole at the end of the hallway and kept on pawing the door.
“Get help” Mary gasped from under the heavy door and managed to move it slightly. The cat jumped back in surprise. A talking door. Whoever heard of such a thing. She pawed again. No response. Hmm so it was not the pawing. She jumped up and down on the door – no response.
Then another desperate “Get help”
She jumped back and darted into the lounge rushing from lap to lap. “The door, the door, it’s alive” she meowed with vigour” Nobody took any notice, just stroking her as she landed on their lap.
“What is it with you humans” she meowed…
“I have never felt so alone” thought Mary, as she was abandoned by the cat, her last hope.
“Hey guys” said Nigel. “Let’s hang the front door upside down, wouldn’t that be a great wheeze”
Brian groaned, still hankering after a screwdriver or a margherita or a…
“What a great idea” said Peter. “You never know when an Australian might come knocking”
They all laughed. Jane didn’t understand the joke, but she laughed anyway, just to be in with the crowd.
They all rushed into the hallway together. Six was an ideal number to hang a door they all thought, whichever way up it was going to be.
Brian and Michael were most organised and went to opposite ends to lift the door.
“Oh”, said Jane, “there you are”, to Mary as the door was lifted. “What are you doing lying down there.” but rushed off down the hallway to join the others jostling in the doorway before Mary could answer.
Brian put the door down, trapping Mary’s legs again. “You look like you could do with a drink girl” he said. “I’ll go get you a screwdriver. Anyone know where the vodka is?”
“I do” said Michael dropping the other end of the door, which Mary just about managed to fend off sufficiently to stop it crushing her head and then rushed into the front lounge to the drinks cupboard, coming back triumphantly with the bottle.
“Mary” called Jane. Come and join us…
Mary never responded.