I DON’T ANSWER THE DOOR. EVER. Not by choice anyway. The paramedics have been in once, and the gasman after it became apparant my boiler might blow up, but other than that, I don’t have visitors. I’ve always fiercely guarded my privacy, perhaps because I had none as a child. But over the years it has become a phobia to the extent that a knock on the door gives me palpitations and leaves me jittery for the rest of the day.
So thanks very much Mr Postman for hammering on my door this morning. Also many thanks to British Gas for thinking that a couple of free lightbulbs would make up for their enormous rise in fuel prices.