Chapter One - Setting the scene

I had to walk the dog for a while, well just to get out of the house. So sorry for the delay in relating this; at present, I have a wet and slightly smelly dog at my feet, a Christmas tree fully decorated with wrapped presents underneath and a small case of an item being sent to the wrong address...
tschik, tschik
...See there it goes again. Just as you think it has gone, it reminds you that it is there. A bit like the beating of a heart in that tale by Edgar Allan, is that with an a or an e, Poe. I'll explain it in a minute and you'll see why I had to take the dog out. So here goes, apologies in advance for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, if you do find them or you just want to add anything to the comments (click on the comment button below) or just laugh hysterically at my predicament.

Friday afternoon, this week, just as it was getting dark I get a phone call on the mobile. The number was another mobile and not one that I remembered or one that was logged on the SIM card.

"Afternoon mate. Are you Mister Elliott, Mister Peter Elliott"
"Yes"
"Right, I've got a parcel for you, a bit of a big 'un, I need a signature and somewhere to put it"
"Er, okay, yes, " frantically trying to think what I may have ordered from Amazon or PlayUSA. "Can you give me about five minutes?"
"Yep, no worries. We'll shift it around to the back door"

I was down at the bottom of the back field with a spade in my hands at the damp end of a drainage ditch. So five minutes to run up the hill and open the back door and I am sure I haven't ordered anything for at least a couple of weeks.

The boots were starting to slip in the mud as I am nearing the half-way point and now a slight burning sensation in the back of my calves...
tschik, tschik
...slightly red in the face and out of breath. I reach the door, get the keys out of my pocket and unlock the top lock and pull down on the slightly bent brass handle. I hear the pounding of a wagging tail hitting the fridge, the dog has got out into the back porch. Combine this with the footsteps of the courier behind me on the damp brick path. I had to get control . I put my hands on my thighs, bent my knees and breathed in and out deeply.

"You alright mate, you better look after yourself otherwise you'll end up like that bloke with the belt around his chest. He seems to be bleeding everywhere. Well not exactly blood, but you get my point. More bloody government stealth advertising. Can you sign there?"

He hands over a black plastic oversized hymn book with an LCD screen with an attached plastic stylus. A blinking cursor showed me where to scribble, a spinning satellite in the atmosphere awaits to bounce the transaction back to the impatient , coffee-drinking office worker.

The delivery from signage should take twenty minutes, since it is classed as a type 1 Very Large Parcel,. It gives Janice, in the office, time to refill the chipped mug and a chance to fill in the last five boxes on the moderate sodoku grid on the glowing screen before sending the last pick up details to Geoff, the courier. Little did I know that I would get to know Geoff as well as Neil and Dave very well by the end of the afternoon. (Nah-night)