Rather than extend the already ludicrously long previous post... there's a bit more... and it was, without any doubt, my own fault.
Whenever I go to Tesco I always ask Mavis and Vic, and also Betsy across the road if they want anything. Betsy is 75, widowed for 35 years, has dodgy knees, a heart of gold and talks without full stops, commas or drawing breath. Mavis didnt need anything. However...
Hi Betsy, off to Tesco do you want anything?
*the following is spoken in a true Lanky accent. None of that Manc rubbish - think Janice Battersby*
'Ooh well if you're going could you get me some Warburtons medium sliced just the small loaf and two bottles of Milton because although I never use the jacuzzi in the bath I've got people coming to look on Saturday and it doesn't half smell sometimes and a bottle of whisky whatever is on offer it's usually about £18 for a litre but only Bells or Grants none of that own label rubbish oh and my hoover is buggered and I've asked our Angus to fix it but he's too busy bloody fencing (that's putting up fencing not whiffling about with an epee) and our John might be here at the weekend so he can look at it but I never know from one week to the next but I know when they turn up they always expect me to provide a bloody breakfast our John will bring you some eggs in return for the egg boxes thank you very much you are a darling'
So off I go and do said shopping and suffer the subsequent fallout detailed in the previous blog.
At about 5ish this evening I told Ma that I'd just pop over with Betty's shopping and wouldn't be long.
Didnt lock the door. *insert face slapping smiley here*
Clearly you can see from the above that 'just popping over to Betty's for a minute' is a ludicrous statement. However I have developed an exit strategy which involves necking the proffered (small) glass of red at high speed, stepping out of the house and gradually walking down the drive, culminating in a hug at the gate and walking backwards across the road still talking, then saying goodbye just as our beech hedge threatens to cut off her direct line of sight. So I was actually only in the house for 5 minutes, and on the step/drive/road/drive for another five or so.
Back in the house and it is ominously quiet. When every room is found to be empty my immediate thought is that she's gone back out into the garden and fallen down one of several sets of steps to the lawn. A panicky dash around the outside of entire house and no sign. Find phonebook ring neighbours. Found her on the third attempt.
I won't be leaving the door unlocked again. And will not feel guilty about locking it.