The taxi arrives around midnight, then just sits outside with the engine running. I go downstairs and stand in the hallway, not wanting to turn on the light. I can feel the air moving around the house. A few doors are open, a few are closed.
Even though I can see it coming, the driver walking down the path and raising his hand, the knock on the door still manages to give me a kind of jolt. I don’t move. Maybe if I don’t move, he won’t see me. He waits a moment, the engine still running behind him. I haven’t even packed a bag. He knocks again, louder this time. I step up to the door and pull it open.
‘Taxi,’ he says. He’s a big guy, but not that big.
‘Nope,’ I say. We stand there for a few seconds. I look at him. He looks at me.
I’ve really got to stop prank-calling taxi companies.