Nobody Measured the Door
(Georgina is in a stranger's bedroom in Cardiff with a tape measure. Duncan is at home with his phone on speaker.)
Georgina: Right, I'm standing in front of it. It's the one in the photo.
Duncan: How wide?
Georgina: One meter ninety.
(Duncan holds the tape against the bedroom wall.)
Duncan: The wall's two meters ten. That works.
Georgina: How much room does that leave?
Duncan: Twenty centimeters. Plenty.
Duncan: How deep is it?
Georgina: Eighty centimeters.
Duncan: That's deep.
Georgina: It's from a farmhouse. Everything in this flat is from a farmhouse.
Duncan: Height?
Georgina: Two meters five. Our ceiling's two forty.
Duncan: And the van's booked for six, so if you want it, say yes now.
Georgina: I'm saying yes.
(A pause on the line.)
Duncan: Georgina.
Georgina: What?
Duncan: How wide's our bedroom door?
Georgina: I don't know. Seventy something?
Duncan: Seventy-two. I measured it for the carpet.
Georgina: And the wardrobe is eighty deep.
Duncan: Eighty deep, and our hallway's narrow. It won't turn, it won't come apart, and it isn't going through that door.
Georgina: I measured that wall three times.
Duncan: Yeah. Neither of us measured a door.