The last two bottles

An original literary non-fiction-style account of accompanying a neighbour on a morning milk-delivery round.

I agreed to help carry the bottles because our neighbour's assistant was away. He gave me a crate and a list of addresses. I expected the list to tell me everything. At the first house, he pointed to the side door instead of the front. The bottles made too much noise on the stone step, he said. There was a mat by the side door.

At another house, two empty bottles waited beside a folded newspaper. I picked them up, but he left the paper exactly where it was. It meant that the customer would be back before lunch and wanted the usual delivery. I asked why she did not leave a note. He said that, in this case, she had.

A man opened a window and called down that he needed an extra bottle. Our neighbour asked whether that was for today or from now on. The man paused, then said today. I changed the number on the list and put a small mark beside it, copying the distinction our neighbour had made aloud.

By the last street, I could recognise the gates before checking the numbers. I was pleased with this until I carried two bottles towards the wrong side of a shared entrance. Our neighbour called me back quietly. He did not want the customer to think that a request made last week had been forgotten.

We returned with two bottles still in the crate. I asked whether this meant that we had missed someone. He counted the empty spaces, checked the changed order and showed me the note about a family away for the weekend. Only then did he put the crate down. I was tired from carrying it. He seemed most relieved that the list now matched the morning.

What do you learn about the neighbour's approach to the delivery round?