Free Other People’s Diaries by Kathy Webb Page B

you?’
    â€˜Great,’ he replied and Lillian marvelled at his unfailing enthusiasm.
    Ross rested his elbow on the window frame. ‘It’s a dark day for Liverpool,’ he said, shaking his head.
    â€˜I’ll say,’ Lillian agreed.
    Ross delivered the local area’s newspapers and Lillian had noticed him going about his rounds more than a year before they’d first spoken. Then one morning, Lillian had turned into a street to find Ross standing beside his van staring at a flat tyre.
    She’d kept walking, expecting to exchange a brief nod and perhaps a small comment of commiseration. Instead, he’d looked at her and asked cheerfully if she’d like a cup of tea. ‘Reckon the lazy buggers can walk to the shops to get their paper this morning,’ he’d said, grinning.
    Before she could make her excuses, he’d pulled out a steaming thermos and matching mugs and poured her a cup of hot, sweet tea.
    He had leaned against the bonnet, looking down the quiet morning street. Lillian had stood awkwardly to one side and they had drunk in silence for a few moments.
    â€˜Did you watch the football last night?’ Ross had asked.
    She’d noticed the score when she’d been flicking channels looking for something to watch. Her son, Daniel, was a huge soccer fan and Lillian had thought that he would have been happy with Australia’s performance against a higher ranked team.
    â€˜A draw,’ she’d said without thinking.
    Ross had looked at her, silently impressed.
    From then on he’d assumed Lillian to be a soccer fan. She hadn’t bothered to set the record straight, figuring that they’d just wave at each other from a distance whenever they crossed paths.
    But Ross kept pulling over for a chat whenever he saw her. Before too long it seemed impossible to tell him she really didn’t like soccer. It was just easier to smile and nod whenever he raised the topic. Apart from soccer, Ross loved to read. Autobiographies were his passion and he and Lillian often swapped books and opinions.
    Now, almost a year later, he looked at her earnestly. ‘I hope Benitez knows what he’s doing,’ he said. ‘He went and picked Harry Kewell again, didn’t he.’ Ross shook his head mournfully. ‘That damn boy spends too much time hanging out with his wife’s soapy friends to actually get fit.’
    â€˜Mmm,’ Lillian murmured.
    â€˜She’s a looker, I’ll give him that. She’s an actress from some English soap or other. Was it Brookside ?’ He looked at Lillian enquiringly.
    She shrugged, her expertise on soap operas no greater than her expertise on football.
    â€˜Anyway. We won the Champions League – maybe this year we’ll crack the big one.’
    Lillian smiled encouragingly, despite having no idea what the ‘big one’ was. As she did every morning she vowed to ask Daniel to tell her something about English football.
    â€˜Beaut morning, isn’t it?’ Ross asked, looking over Lillian’s shoulder at the curve of sky, its blue still soft and powdery at this hour.
    â€˜Just lovely,’ Lillian relaxed now she was back on comfortable territory. ‘It’s going to be a hot summer though.’
    â€˜Yep, you’re right. Just as well I’ve got my airconditioning.’ Ross stuck his arm through the open window with a grin.
    Lillian laughed. ‘Not going to replace the van this year?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.
    â€˜Absolutely not,’ Ross proclaimed. ‘I’d only bang it up.
    â€˜Heard from the kids?’ he asked.
    Lillian shook her head. ‘Not for a week or so. How about you?’
    â€˜Melanie was round with her lot yesterday. God they make a lot of noise. Bloody glad when they were gone actually.’ His words were light-hearted. Ross loved his grandchildren and hated his ex-wife with equal passion. She had left him long ago