Last thing last night I was cleaning my car (it does happen now and then) when a man with white hair walked up behind me.

‘Do you live here?’ he asked.

I said I did. I was trying to reattach a wiper blade at the time and I thought he might have thought I was vandalising the car.

‘Are you a computer expert?’ he asked.

‘I might be,’ I said. I always treat such questions with caution.

‘Oh, good,’ he said, before going on to detail how old his computer was and how much difficulty he was having getting on the Internet. He asked me to go around to his house and fix it. I told him I was on my way out. He asked me to come later, and I told him ‘we’ll see’.

Was I mean not to go around there right away and get him online? I’m sure he was a perfectly harmless middle-aged man, but you can never tell. He stood there for a while and watched me pour what remained of my bucket of water over the rear window, and jump to one side so it would not hit my feet.

When he wouldn’t go away, I locked the car and went back inside to get rid of the bucket. By the time I came back out again he was gone.

Perhaps I ought to leave some instructions tucked down behind my broken wiper so he can pick them up next time he’s passing.

Whatever, I’m using him as my excuse for not spotting that my road tax had expired. I clean forgot about it until I told Leo it wasn’t due until the end of the month and he marvelled at how organised I must be. It was then that I realise the end of the month had passed two days ago, and I’d parked an illegal car in the car park by the station. I went right out and bought a new disc in the post office and prayed I’d not be clamped or towed before I got home.

All was well, though, and a slightly-less-dirty-than-usual car was waiting to be re-taxed when I got back late this evening.

Briefly popped home to pick up some last bits and bobs, then round to mum’s where I’m cat sitting again for the next two weeks. Jess was crying in the hall when I arrived, and looked rather surprised when he was me and not mum who walked in through the door.

She got over it with tickles and biscuits, then strolled out into the garden, leaving me to deal with a spider the size of a cricket ball on the carpet in the lounge.

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