Part 2. The Door ..

That bloomin' bell.

'RING. RING. RIIIIIIIIIIIING'.

I wanted to ignore it, but whoever it was wasn't going to leave, and l could always have a discreet peek to see who my visitor was. No one was getting to disturb my sunbathing. No one knew l was at home this afternoon.

I walked up into the kitchen from the garden, swooped up and shook out a freshly ironed, long, cotton dressing gown from my things lying ready on the table, hoping the sunscreen oil would wash off. l turned down the blaring music and as l made my way through ground floor, l realised the incessant 'ring ring ring' has stopped. Good. They had buggered off. Good riddance, too. But l'd better just check before l lay down in the sun, cos l ain't gettin' back up for no Jehovah's Witness. Not in this state of undress, scraped-up hair and no make up on.

As l about turned in the vast, cool hall, l headed for the piano room, as l called it! You can see the front door from behind a shutter. My thoughts were on getting out into the sunshine, and this was eating into my precious time-management.

No way! What was THAT?

A shadowy figure skulked past me.

You could see it through the stain glass partition at the side of the vestibule.

Funny, that.

Was l imagining all this?

Thinking, how on earth did they manage to get up by the side of the house?

It was creeping me out, as l then realised something was dreadfully amiss.

I ran towards the front door, pulling off my diamond ring and stuffing it in a vase of freshly, cut flowers. (I'd seen that bit of advice on a programe about being burgled. Get the jewellery stashed) What would be the point of going out there? If one was heading round the back, another could barge in past me if l opened the big, front door. No. Keep that one closed, and get back as quickly as you can to the rear of this house. Hurry, though ..

I was now on cortisol induced, high alert.

My head was buzzing with questions, and within seconds, l realised l had a different and new problem in my blond world.

No one would NEED to use that little passage, and no one had been invited to join me in my space, so by the time l'd thought all this through in my head, l decided it was DEFINITELY unwise to open the locked, front door.

Fuck!

The French Windows!

Beckoning like welcoming, open arms.

Quick, DO something.

But what?

I about turned, and with a scared but booming voice, shouting out like a nut job, l raced into the kitchen.

'Hey you! Get away from here! There's a big dog upstairs, and l'll set him on you!'

Funny that.

No barking.

Arf Arf ..

I'd now arrived terrified, back into the kitchen area, only to see one of the well tended bushes on the beautiful patio area, shake up a bit. Eh?!

In the blink of an eye, l chased this invisible person all the way back and out into the gravel path, then onto the main, busy street.

I saw him then. For the first time.

A skinny wee runt, running for his life. I felt a bit sorry for him, truthfully. What a way to go about your day, praying/preying-on no one's at home.

He glanced over his shoulder a couple of times, and sprinted around another corner, and disappeared.

I stood, perfectly calmly, and made a mental note.

White, putty skin.

Aged about 16.

Very thin.

Black, dull hair.

Blue tracky bottoms.

Grey tee-shirt.

White trainers.

Oh yes. Very easy to pick out in the underworld. Not.

As he ran off, l also noticed he'd one of those shiny, brightly coloured polythene sports bag things on back-to-front. I mean, he'd rigged it so he could put the swag in quick-like, and the string handles were positioned criss-crossed like a bra. Great detective work from myself, l thought.

I did stand in the middle of the road for a few seconds, taking it all in. The cars were glancing at this mad woman, in bare feet, in a dressing gown, looking like Miss Haversham.

I won't forget just how calm l'd become. Time to call the police.

But ..

That's another story.