‘It was the dustbin. The second one.’

There’s no immediate response, just the silence that follows footsteps coming to a halt beside her head.

She tries again.

‘I turned around to see where it came from, and I slipped.’

The snow by her ear squeaks and she senses a face close to hers.

‘Can you open your eyes?’

She hadn’t realised they were shut. Wan sunlight, filtered through January cloud and damp eyelashes, brings her back to a washed-out reality. Above her the sky is a blank white sheet of paper. As she blinks, his face blots the page, concern melting into relief.

‘The new bin is mine. I moved in on Christmas Eve. Sorry if it startled you.’

She groans.

‘This is not how I planned to begin the year. Today was supposed to be…’

Her lips pinch together. His face moves off the page.

‘You can probably let go of your rubbish bag now. Allow me.’

He eases the twist of black plastic from her fist and she hears the clang of a dustbin lid. He’s finished the job she’d started.

He’s back, crouching beside her.

‘Did you make a New Year’s resolution?’ she asks.

‘Me? No.’ He shrugs. ‘What difference does a day make? You?’

‘To declutter. That bag was full of the mess of my life from last year. My divorce came through just before Christmas, so I’ve been having a clear out. I want to be ready for whatever the universe chooses to throw at me next.’

‘How about sitting up next? Do you think you could manage that?’

He offers his hand, and while the world tilts back to normality she takes deep dragon breaths, puffing vapour into the morning stillness.

‘You should know I don’t make a habit of ice-skating down the drive. I’m usually very careful. You have to be when you live alone. It was only because of the bin.’

‘The bag probably saved you. If you hadn’t been holding it, you might have broken your arms.’

She gives both a gentle shake and winces. One sleeve is ripped and the graze on her arm beneath is dripping blood onto the block paving.

‘I could have used them to call for help if I hadn’t left my phone on the kitchen counter. Who takes their phone with them when they put the bin out?’

‘Good job I spotted you through the window. I was waiting for the kettle to boil.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she laughs. ‘I should be standing on your doorstep with a freshly baked cake, not littering up the driveway.’

‘Either way, you broke the ice.’ He grins, and his face seems familiar, like that of an old friend. Just one she hasn’t met until today.

‘You’re shivering,’ he says. ‘It’s probably shock. I think we should get you into the warm and clean up that wound.’

He helps her onto her feet and she assesses the damaged sleeve.

‘I didn’t like this jumper anyway. Maybe I’ll treat myself to a new one in the sales.’

‘So much for decluttering!’ he laughs. ‘Let’s put that kettle back on, and I’ll slug brandy into a cup of tea for you. And... it’s not freshly baked, but I have leftover Christmas cake if you’d like a slice.

She takes his arm and they walk carefully up the drive together. As they reach his house, she glances back over her shoulder at the two dustbins standing side by side. What a difference a day makes.