‘I’m defending myself from a burglar. Would you mind speaking a little bit slower so I can write every word you say, and not have to rely on my memory?�

‘Of... course...� the girl, who I know presume is Katy, is saying. ‘Are... you... a.... writer...?�

�...Are... you... a...writer...question...mark... there we go... ah, yes, yes I am. I was writing this story about a girl robbing a house, however I didn’t finish it and so now I’m really not sure what to do... I mean, do I scream, or do I give you all my money, or what?�

‘I’m not sure. I’ve never really robbed a house before. Maybe you could do a terribly adult thing and make lots of decaffeinated coffee while I behave maturely, chat about the weather, and then we can try to reach an agreement,� the girl who is most definitely Katy says. ‘But first, can I have a read of what you’ve written?�

‘Ah... okay, here you go. Let me just finish this sentence.. �

She is reading my story so now I am having to write on the back of this old shopping list. Katy nods, smiles, and turns to me.

‘I love it! It’s a bit of a coincidence with me coming here and all, but you don’t really think that I’m Katy, do you?�

‘Er... well...�

‘Because I’m not. My name is Jillian...and you’ve probably got every reader thinking that I am Katy, but that would be over the top, a bit too, you know, cute.�

‘Oh... I thought it would make a great ending, but... you think not?�

‘No.�

‘Well, how about I write

They all lived happily and died at appropriate ages

and then in fancy text I could say

The End

and then you could make a nice comment.�

‘Brilliant.�