2003-10-08 - 9:44 a.m.
I was trying to establish a meeting point with Smiffy so I could give her a CD of some new songs to work on. Seeing as she lives in the depths of South London it seemed more convienient to catch her at work in the lovely Music and Video Exchange which has outposts in places slightly more accesible to me than West Norwood.
�Are you going to be at 38 tomorrow?� I texted her to see if she�d be in the Nottinghill shop.
My blood ran cold a few minutes later as I read her reply.
�I�m upstairs�
What the hell was Smiffy doing upstairs in my house? I certainly hadn�t seen her slip in. The whole thing was starting to make my spine chilled. I was suddenly starring in a stalker/slasher movie. Was she really upstairs? I went to check but there was no sign of her. I was puzzled, but less frightened.
Then the light dawned. She meant upstairs at 38, at work tomorrow. I put the crowbar back.
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