I WAS GOING TO HAVE AN EARLY NIGHT, WHEN . . .

. . . the doorbell rang.

There was a man on my doorstep, he wanted me to call a taxi. I left him there, locked the door and tried to get a cab for him, I failed. He was confused, I gave him directions, shut the door again, made sure all the doors were locked and then rang my neighbours.

He'd already been to one set, coming to me was going in the wrong direction. Both sets of neighbours came out, one then found him in our lane again - he didn't know where he'd come from.

Then I rang the police. They're coming out for my safety and his.

I don't like this. I'm OK, Alice is OK, the dogs are OK. The lights are blazing and I'm not going to bed for a while, too wired at the moment. I'll wait up to see if the police do manage to drive by. It's times like this that I feel vunerable - even though I know that I'll be OK.

[Can't even watch TV as I'm straining to hear over the commentary!]