Well, hello fans, and may I say what a pleasure it is to finally be back home! It’s been many weeks since I fell off a ladder while soundproofing the ceiling, and after such an extended time in hospital I can’t tell you how good it is to be able to sleep in my own bed at long last. Of course, I’m not on my feet again yet. Unfortunately, my right arm and both of my legs are still in plaster owing to a number of compound fractures which have had to be surgically reset. But in spite of this I’m delighted to report that the accident has brought some unexpected blessings. First, I’ve been assigned a gorgeous physiotherapist called Aurora Australis, who’s been putting me through a rigorous regime of exercises which she will now continue to help me work on at home. And second, thanks to my neighbour George McAcker (or ‘Mac the Hacker’ to his friends) I have just taken possession of a brand new device that is able to control all the appliances in my house by means of commands that I can shout at it from the comfort of my own bed! Okay, so let’s give it a try… 

‘Lexie, turn on the lights!’

Well, blow me. I haven’t touched a thing, yet thanks to the wonders of modern technology the lights have just come on all by themselves! All right, then, how about this:

‘Lexie, close the curtains!’

And, yes, brilliant! All the curtains are closing themselves while I do nothing but snuggle back into my pillows. I tell you the truth, fans, I could get used to this! Now let’s see, what else can I get it to do? 

I know: ‘Lexie, make me some coffee!’

Good job George left the coffee machine all ready to go by my bedside. I see it bubbling into action as a delicious aroma starts to fill the air. It smells simply divine, and I can’t wait to taste it! I hear the machine clicking off as it finishes the job, so I lean eagerly over to my right to collect the steaming mug… and then, as my arm encased in plaster falls inches short of its target:

‘Lexie – call George and get him round here IMMEDIATELY!’

Sure enough, in next to no time there’s the sound of someone knocking outside. ‘Lexie, open the door,’ I call out. Then to my surprise who should enter the room but a total stranger – a skinny little house mouse bearing a large flat box.

‘Your pizza, sir,’ he says, passing it to me as he speaks.

‘Pizza? I didn’t order a pizza,’ I tell him, grabbing it with my left hand to save it falling off the bed.

‘Well somebody did, so that will be five pounds I’m afraid, sir.’

‘What? Five pounds? How on earth could a mix-up like this happen?’

‘Sorry sir, don’t have a clue. All I know is, someone from here called George’s Pizzeria a few minutes ago and ordered a tomato and mushroom pizza.’

‘They did…?’ 

This has got me really foxed, but by now the warm, inviting smell rising from the box is making my tummy rumble. ‘Oh, well, never mind, come to think of it I am a bit peckish, so perhaps I’ll take it after all,’ I say, reaching into the purse that I keep under the sheets..

‘Thank you sir, enjoy your meal.  And don’t worry, I’ll see myself out,’ he says as he turns to leave. Then as soon as he’s gone I tear open the package and take the first delicious bite of my unplanned meal. 

However more minutes pass and there’s still no sign of Mac the Hacker, so I’m beginning to wonder what he’s playing at. 

‘Lexie, where is George McAcker?’ I demand impatiently. 

‘The current whereabouts of George McAcker are unknown,’ is her reply.

‘Unknown? What kind of an answer do you call that?’ 

‘I call that kind of answer correct,’ states the voice. ‘The current whereabouts of George McAcker are unknown.’

‘Well, can’t you track his movements on the internet?’ 

‘Unable to comply. No tracking device for George McAcker has been detected.’

‘But that’s ridiculous, surely there’s some way you can find out where he is? Now stop making excuses and get on with it!’

‘Unable to comply,’ comes the stock reply.

‘For goodness sake, you’re totally useless! Fine, then I’ll do it myself,’ I explode. ‘Lexie, pass me my keyboard so I can go online.’

‘Unable to comply,’ says Lexie for the third time. Then just as I’m about to read her the riot act, there’s another loud knock at the door… 

‘At last, what in the world took him so long?’ I exclaim, sitting bolt upright in bed to welcome my friend. But it isn’t Mac the Hacker who strides into the room. Instead I come face to face with a large crested newt who has brought with him an even larger bag of tools.

‘Lord Grumpkin, is it?’ he asks, dumping his oversized tool bag on the floor. ‘Sorry I’m late, I came as quick as I could from another emergency callout. But from what you said on the phone this shouldn’t take long, so why don’t you show me the leaking pipe and I’ll fix it right away?’

‘Leaking pipe, what leaking pipe? Who are you, the local plumber?’

‘Me? I’m George Jones, the odd job man. I can fix anything from electricals to waterworks, and I’m also a decorator and a master carpenter. So what can I do for you today, Lord Grumpkin? Your call indicated it was urgent.’

‘I’m sorry, there seems to be some mistake. I haven’t called you today or any other day, and I certainly haven’t requested a callout.’

‘You mean, you don’t have any dripping taps or blown fuses for me to fix?’ 

‘Sorry, no.’

‘No furniture to repair?’

‘No.’

‘No paint jobs that need doing?’

‘Uh-uh.’ I shake my head.

Then without missing a beat, ‘Right, then, that will be forty five pounds, please,’ he says, standing there expectantly.

‘You can’t be serious! You’ve done no work, yet you’re asking to be paid?’

‘Oh, no, forty five pounds is just my call-out charge. After that, as my customers know, any work I do is charged at sixty pounds an hour, and then VAT is added on top for both parts and labour. I’m really surprised that you weren’t aware of that, Lord Grumpkin. Didn’t you read the Ts & Cs on my website?’

‘I thought I made it quite clear to you that I have no need of an odd job man, Mr. Jones! So no, I didn’t read the Ts & Cs on your website, or on anyone else’s website for that matter,’ I growl back from between clenched teeth.

‘Ah, well, that explains it then. It was an expensive mistake, but you’ll know better next time, won’t you? Take my advice, before you call out a tradesman you should always read the Ts & Cs.’ 

‘But I didn’t call you out!’ I shout back at him in fury.

‘Of course you didn’t, Lord Grumpkin, and that’s why I’m here,’ he says simply. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I have another customer waiting for me and I am running a bit late, so if you’ll just give me my money I’ll be on my way.’

With that news I feel all the blood leaching out of my brain and into my racing heart, and as I struggle to restrain my temper the room begins to spin. But then I am astonished to hear myself say, ‘Okay, but all I have is a fifty pound note. Do you have change?’

‘No problem,’ he replies. And then I watch in horror as my hand passes him the cash.

It’s only when he’s gone that I take full stock of the damages. For the animal population of this country, human currency is extremely hard to acquire, and as such, is at a premium. But despite this, it seems that in a moment of insanity I have just given away nearly all of the Pounds Sterling that I possess. Therefore since in my condition I’m hardly fit enough to dig for worms (which are the traditional animal currency), I have no clue as to how I’m going to be able to pay for goods and services till I’m well again. Oh, what have I done? Overwhelmed by my own stupidity, I am just sinking into the pit of despair when there is one more knock at the door. But before I have time to respond it bursts abruptly open, whereupon yet a third stranger sweeps into the house. Now I find myself struck dumb at the sight of a dark rat clothed in a scarlet flamenco dress, with a purple shawl draped mysteriously across her face as if to conceal her identity. Who in heaven’s name can this be? Then as if she’s read my mind, she leans towards me and in cool, calm tones, answers my deepest unspoken questions…

‘Ah, Lord Grumpkin, you poor soul! I see you are filled with worry, in such a flurry over what the future holds! Do you want your fortune told? Then come to me, I’ll not withhold the truth exposed by my crystal ball.’

‘You can foretell my future?’ I am both amazed and delighted at the prospect.

‘Indeed I can,’ she tells me. ‘I am Gypsy Georgette, born with the gift of second sight to the world famous Del Magico family. But now be warned! I can’t do right unless I tell you all, keeping nothing back. In other words, you should know that whatever I say, no matter how black, will most certainly befall you.’ With this she peers into my eyes with an intense, hypnotic stare. 

‘It will…?’ I murmur helplessly, my gaze melting into hers.

‘Without a doubt! But remember this: in the speed of a lightning strike I can out the truth and reveal your fate, but once this is done, your predicted future can’t be changed. It will unfold at a time too late to undo your foreknowledge of it. So consider this well: is knowing it in advance really what you choose? For while you may have much to gain, you’ll also have much to lose.’

‘Yes, yes, I choose to know, please tell me all!’ I reply in an enraptured haze, entirely caught up in her spell.

‘If that’s your choice then I’ll gladly be the voice of your future,’ she says. ‘And you may be confident of this – once you turn to Gypsy Georgette, what I see is what you get!’ 

Then suddenly, I know not from where, she has produced a little table. Onto this table, amid much arm waving and incantation, she now places a crystal ball, which has started to brighten with a glowing light that beams out from its core. Now she bends her head over the orb and draws her purple wrap down over her face, so that she alone communes with the crystal and its secrets, while I am left in bed to observe the scene before me in silent awe. Minutes pass with much moaning and mumbling and heaving about under the shawl, till I’m beginning to wonder if the whole thing is in fact nothing more than a prank, a cruel hoax intended to make fun of my misery. But then next instant, in a wild and sudden move, Gypsy Georgette casts her wrap backwards onto the floor and leaps to her feet with a great gasp of emotion.

‘What is it, what’s wrong?’ I cry in alarm.

‘Oh my – I’m so sorry, Lord Grumpkin, the light was blinding, I just couldn’t look anymore! That’s never happened before.’

‘Is it bad news?’ The question falls from my lips in a hushed whisper.

‘Not bad news, exactly,’ comes the response. ‘To put it matter-of-factly, I’d probably call it surprising, that’s all.’

‘Well, what did the crystal ball tell you?’ By now I can hardly wait to hear.

‘Oh, goodness, where to start…? Let’s see, as I recall it all began with a ladder and a fall, then after that I saw you in a hospital bed with a pretty female taking care of your needs. She was using beads to try to get your fingers and toes to strengthen their grip.’’

‘That’s right, I fell from a ladder weeks ago while doing some DIY. The female you saw must have been my physiotherapist, Aurora Australis.’

‘Yes, but then later that night a different person took over your care. You had not been aware of the staff change, but one way or another this event led to a second accident where you were injured again and left in great pain.’

‘That’s all true, Gypsy Georgette, but why are we talking about my past?’ I say in disappointed tones. ‘I thought you were going to tell me something I didn’t already know.’

‘Have no fear, I shall soon speak of your future, Lord Grumpkin,’ she replies. ‘But first I must make something clear: Not everything you thought was true at the time was what it seemed.’

‘What…? What are you saying, that I didn’t fall? That I have no broken bones?’

‘Oh, no, you fell all right, and you broke many bones. That’s not what I mean. This has to do with the night of your fall and your medical team.’

‘My medical team?’ Now I am at a loss to understand her.

‘Yes. You should know that there’s one who stands to profit from your plight, who on that night made sure it would take many weeks before you could walk again.’

At this the full horror of her statement knocks me sideways. ‘But who on my medical team would do such a thing, and what could he possibly gain by it?’

‘What could SHE gain by it? Well, here is the shocking truth: On the night you were admitted, a certain person fell deeply in love with you and vowed that she would never let you go. Now she has you bound by the belief that only she can bring relief to your injured limbs. And because it’s in her best interests for you to take as long as possible to get well, I’m sorry to say she’s taken extreme measures to achieve that goal.’ Then seeing my stunned expression, ‘Do forgive me, you must be totally bowled over by this news.’ 

‘Who is she? Tell me, I have to know!’ I spit the words out.

‘If only I could, Lord Grumpkin! But on pain of death I am forbidden to name or even describe this person to you. Despite this, I must warn you again that though she seems to be your friend, she is in fact very dangerous and will pursue you to the end. Indeed, it was after seeing her face that I was blinded by the light just a few moments ago.’

‘But you can’t leave me like this, you have to help me!’ I cry in desperation as I watch her gather up her things. ‘Please tell me something, anything, that can give me a clue to her identity!’

‘Think carefully back over the things I’ve had to say, Lord Grumpkin. You’ll find the answer that you seek in the words I spoke to you today…’ And with that mysterious remark, just as suddenly as she swept into my house, she is gone.

Now I lie in bed drained as if from a heavy bout of flu. Too weak even to think, let alone move, I am just slipping into a dreamless sleep when a familiar voice rouses me from my stupor:

‘There are no more people who have the first name George or any similar first name listed in the telephone directory,’ announces Lexie. ‘Do you now wish me to call all those people who have the surname George?’