After I wrote this I wondered whether I should put it in the first person.  The clue to the ending is scattered through the story in the descriptions she gives, or rather the narrator gives.  It might be better if it was Sue narrating.

And I am really useless at titles.  I couldn't think of a decent one that didn't give the game away.  So I've stolen the title from BBS, though I'm damned if I'll giver her the credit.

Sue was happy. It had been a good day. It was difficult to say why. There was no particular incident that had put her in this mood. She had woken in a good mood. The trip to work had been pleasant. Things had gone well at work. The warm autumn sunshine on her face now made a pleasant contrast to the crisp air. And so gradually, hour by hour, her good mood had improved even more.

And now she was nearly home.

She loved her home. She had only moved out from her parents’ house nine months ago, but in that short time the small flat had become part of her. She thought of it as My Home. And she had the whole weekend ahead of her to indulge herself in, to wrap herself up in the Me-ness of Her Home.

Her parents had fought against it. The city was not a safe place for their little girl to be alone in. How would she cope being on her own?

But she hadn’t been able to find a job locally, and it didn’t make sense to spend all that time and money commuting each day, and were they going to mollycoddle her her whole life? And besides, from the moment she had conceived of the idea, the thought had excited her. Her own place. Her own life.

At first they had visited her several times a week, then every weekend, but gradually they came to accept that their little girl was grown up. And though she loved them dearly, she had had to put her foot down. Supposing she wanted a man to stay over, she had asked her Dad, half in jest. ‘And what man could put up with your strange sense of humour?’ he had asked. ‘He would only have to put up with it for the one night’ she had retorted, enjoying the discomfort it had caused him. But she had got her sense of humour from him in the first place, and after a few seconds he had laughed. So now they visited every few weeks, phoning first to make sure it was OK.

Not that there was a man she wanted to stay over. At the moment. But if there was, she had Her Home.

She was outside the building now. She bounced her hand along the top of the railings like a little girl, hitting every sixth rail, feeling the familiar texture of the paint over the metal. As she reached the steps she grabbed the last rail and swung round, bouncing up the steps to Her Door.

The steps were familiar. Her feet automatically knew exactly where each one was. She could never step on the ghost step that didn’t exist at the top, clumsily stamping on thin air. For though she would not have been able to tell you exactly how many steps there were, her feet knew. In the same way that her fingers knew her ATM PIN, though she could never recall it at any other time.

At exactly the top step she took out her key, went in through the front door, and shut the outside world behind her.

Her Home!

OK, technically this was the communal hall. Her actual home was the other side of the door on the first floor. But this was still her’s, even if it wasn’t exclusively her’s.

She took a deep breath in through her nose. Every building had its own nasal character. The hall smelled of carpet dust, furniture polish and Springfresh air freshener. Mr Khan’s exotic cooking lingered on the periphery, along with a je ne sais quoi. It may not inspire any poets, but it said Home.

She had reached the second step on the hall stairs when she heard the door to number 3 open. Number 3 had been occupied by Peter, a reclusive postgraduate with irregular hours and even less regular baths. He would play music at all hours that would thud, thud through Sue’s floor. The gossip was that he had run out of money and had done a moonlight flit. Sue was not distraught that he was no longer her downstairs neighbour.

"Oh, hello." The voice behind her was young, masculine and friendly. "Do you live here?"

Sue turned to face him. "Yes. Sue", she said, holding out her hand.

"Dave" he replied, taking her hand. His skin was warm, smooth and dry. His grip was firm, without being painful. Two brisk shakes and release. Not a lingering grip that bordered on creepy. Not a limp lettuce of a shake, nor an invitation to arm-wrestle. "I’m the new tenant of number 3."

"I’m the old tenant of number 5". She felt an odd thrill. For nine months she had been the new tenant in the building. Now she was no longer the junior. Someone else was below her on the seniority ladder.

And perhaps it was because she was in such a good mood. Perhaps it was because she was on her own turf, in Her Home. Perhaps because she was the senior to his junior. Or perhaps it was because of all three. In any case, she was feeling in a playful, flirty mood and she could not resist just a little tease.

"Do you like heavy metal, Dave?"

"Erm, no. Not really, sorry" he said, confused. "Why?"

"Peter, your predecessor, would play heavy metal very loudly. I’m your upstairs neighbour, and it drove me crazy." She gave a bright smile. "That’s why I rewired his hi-fi to electrocute him. So you should thank me that the flat became free."

There was an awkward pause, and then she laughed. "Relax, I’m kidding with you."

Dave gave a little chuckle. "Really?"

Sue switched on her serious look. "No, I’m not really kidding. I electrocuted him right enough."

"Ha! You’re… erm… a little weird, aren’t you?"

"In an attractive way, you mean?"

"Of course. I like weird women. They’re always so grateful."

She laughed. A manly handshake and a sense of humour. She was warming to him. So many men found a woman with a sense of humour intimidating. At least, she told herself, that’s why so many men found her intimidating. It couldn’t possibly be for any other reason.

"So, Dave, do you sleep naked?" The question even shocked her a little, but she was determined to outdo him. Grateful? Her?

This time Dave laughed out loud. "Not normally, why?"

"Well, I live above you. I wouldn’t want to think that I was sleeping on top of a naked man!"

"I’ll… endeavour to remember that. What about you?"

"What about me?" she asked in what she hoped was a coquettish manner.

"Do you sleep naked?"

Sue feigned shock. "Dave! There are some things a gentleman never asks a lady."

"Hey! That’s not fair! I answered you."

"Life’s a bitch, Dave", she laughed. "So am I. Live with it."

There was a pause. Dave’s feet shuffling on the thin carpet accentuated the silence.

"So, Sue. I’m new to this town. Erm… I don’t really know what’s what round here. So I was thinking… you know, if you… erm…"

She laughed. "If you want to ask me out for a drink, Dave, just say ‘Would you like to go out for a drink, Sue?’"

"Would you like to go out for a drink, Sue?" he parroted.

"Oh, sorry, Dave. I don’t drink. Now you would have been much better off asking me out for dinner."

Dave sighed.

"You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?"

She nodded, grinning. "Yep!"

"OK. Sue, I would love to take you out for a meal this evening. If you like we could make an evening of it. There’s the new Johnson film out. His cinematography is brilliant. His last one has the most fantastic shots of the Andes…" His voice faltered as he became aware of Sue’s expression.

It had all been going so well. Was he deliberately mocking her or was he just stupid?

"Are you taking the piss, David?" she asked coldly.

"What? No, why? Seriously, I would love to take you out. What have I done wrong?" His voice was full of sincerity and confusion.

OK, it wasn’t deliberate, then. And I suppose he had no real reason to suspect, she thought. On reflection it had been going far too well. Of course he wouldn’t have asked her out if he had known.

Sue reached into her bag and withdrew the folded cane. She let the springs snap the segments into place and held the hated object up for him to see. "Did you think I wore dark glasses because it was sunny out? I’m blind."

There was a short pause that seemed to her to last forever, and then he said, "Cool! Does that mean you get a discount at the cinema, because I really like cheap dates."

The outrageousness of his reaction made her laugh, snorting in spite of herself.

"You cheeky bugger! Right, just for that I’m going to order a starter and a dessert. And if you don’t pick me up at my door in exactly one hour I shall insist on champagne as well."

And she bounced up the stairs, her feet counting the steps for her.