No homicidal visits, although did wake up at four convinced that I had heard someone coughing downstairs. In czech they have a word for "to give a small cough to alert another to your presence". It was that kind of cough.
Was perturbed. Not enough to cower under the duvet and wait for my end, but enough to get up and switch on all the lights. No sign of extra-polite incursions, but heart beating fast. Soon lulled to sleep by The Language Instinct. It's a shame kibbles shows no sign of adopting the public school habit of talking "street". There are lots and lots of scholarly articles written on the subject of Black English Vernacular, so much material for maternal aggravation. In fact, would quite like to speak it without any son-provoking aims in mind.
Woke up as the 8.51 would have been pulling out of London Bridge station. Forgot single girls need alarm clocks. No au pair with the tea and the gentle knock either.
But have found the cat. Delia had got herself locked in the library. So may be she was the polite cougher, a la Six Dinner Sid.
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