My order is cursed. I tried to pay the charge online on Monday, but the system didn’t recognise the tracking number. Eventually I found a way round that, but I couldn't have them delivered until Wednesday. Patience not being one of my strongest suits, I decided to go to the delivery office today. As I left, our friendly postman turned up. I told him the situation. ‘If you’ve got the money, give it to me and I’ll save you the journey’ he said. I hadn’t. I went to the bank and strolled to the delivery office. Closed. Restricted hours due to Covid. Closed all day Wednesday as well. I drove home, swearing at close to Olympic standard. A mile from home I saw our postie in his van, driving the opposite way. I made a swift three-point turn on the main road (if that was you in the Merc, sorry. I appreciate your patience) and saw him emptying a pillar box a few yards up a small lane as I drove past. Another swift 180 and just in time to see him disappear up a posh-looking driveway. (I swear this is all true.) I got out of my car and waited. He saw me as he reversed, wound the window down and looking a little sheepish, said ‘they’re closed, aren’t they?’ I smiled, nodded, and gave him the cash and the ransom note.
Let’s see what twists are in store for tomorrow.