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If you want to sit back and relax, you can have the whole of pageram read to you by the author.

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His movements were vivid in my mind: the purposeful stride, his distress yet lack of concern when the light went on, and his alarming keenness to see me. All of these were clear, yet I had no recollection of his face. Perhaps the picture would help. Perhaps not.

I stood at the back door and gazed out on to the decking. It was unnerving to be on the same level as where the action had taken place. During the night I’d been the audience - up in “the Gods” for the opening night of a strange show. But standing beside the stage, I was one of the cast and I began to wish that I’d read the whole script before agreeing to take a part. I shook my head at my stupidity and was possessed by an eye-watering yawn. It was going to be a long day.

A mug of tea and “The Breakfast Show” with a chap called Christian helped bring me to life. There was something reassuring about a show with a DJ called “Christian”. So much more sophisticated than a “Chris” or a “Mark”, or somebody named after a block of congealed fat. Christian entertained me, and his suitably named assistant, Brian, made me feel less of an idiot. We were a good team and we sat and enjoyed each other’s company. After several gulps of English Breakfast I had the courage to venture outside.

I took a chair, went to the centre of the decking and made myself as comfortable as was possible. This was me reclaiming it, but he was with me at the fence, dressed in black, and about to climb in to the garden of a single woman. This was something that he had done at least twice before and without obvious consequence. Could Cat-woman have been expecting him? Is that why she looked out of the window when I disturbed her? Had she endured a night without love because of me? Was she waiting for him? I hoped not.

A plane flying overhead distracted me. I followed its path from left to right across the backdrop of greyness. The Manics were audible from the kitchen and were trying to infect me with their brand of Welsh misery. The light from the lamp was the only thing trying to brighten things. I would remember this for when winter came. Then, it began to spit with rain. I picked-up the chair and went inside.