There is a very good reason why at 7.30am this morning I was sitting naked but for a red and white stripped dressing gown and a pair of Paul’s gardening shoes, in the back seat of my car, rigid, bolt upright and staring straight ahead.

It had all started with the realisation that I had left yesterday’s shopping in the car overnight and when I furtively emerged out this morning, the road in front had looked empty, as it should at that time. Granted it was a little nippy round the knees and the fringing on my sarong style skimpy dressing gown threatened to go stiff in the frost, but hey, it was only a quick dash across the tarmac drive and I’d soon be back in the warm.

It was unfortunate that the Royal Mail van chose this particular moment to skid to a halt directly outside the house. Where had he been hiding? Honestly he must have been lurking behind a bush. In hindsight, throwing myself into the back seat of the car was the wrong decision. Why the back? I can’t recall ever sitting there in ten years of owning the car. The next bad decision was to try and make this appear really normal. We haven’t even bothered changing our address as we will move back to our own house later in the year so mail almost never comes through the letterbox. That is until this morning. As I gaze over the driver’s seat I am sure this has made me invisible but the knocking on the rear window reassures me that I am indeed visible to the naked eye. As I wound down the window I am sure I could detect a smurk from the man as he leaned through the opening.
‘Can you sign for this package for next door?’
‘Of course, not a problem.’
He handed me the package through the window and I wound it back up.
I had to wait a full five minutes, still staring straight ahead, as he sat in his van filling out a job sheet. He waved as he drove off. I managed a regal hand movement in reply and a less than ladylike expletive passed my lips.

As I crept back across the drive I caught the eye of the impeccably dressed neighbour Chantelle. She has yet to speak to us since the dressing gown dancing incident in the garden the other night. I fear she never will now.