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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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You can always check out the rams later.

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“I’m not sure. I had a problem with the light.”

We started to walk towards the main road and shared a silence over which I had no power.

“So, did the foxes come?” she said.

I drew breath threw my teeth.

“Well, to be honest, I fell asleep. I was woken by a noise and I took a shot but I think it may have been your cat – I didn’t get a proper look.”

Her eyebrows lowered.

“I don’t have a cat.”

Oh, dear. My actions of the last few weeks flashed before my eyes – ruined shoes, flying turds and hate-filled vitriol.

“I thought the black one was yours.”

“No, he’s the one that makes all the mess.”

“Yes, I know, I just thought he was yours.”

I said this with an unconvincing and confusing shake of the head. We walked on. I needed to get the subject away from cats. Originality didn’t matter.

“Are you going off to work?”

Her smile returned.

“Yes, I’ve had a couple of days off, but I need to go in today.”

We reached the bus stop.

“What do you do?”

“I have a shop in Little Clarendon Street. We sell goods from South America.”

This was brilliant news. I’d been in there.