It was a wrong number that started it. The telephone ringing three times in the dead of the night. When Geoff answered, he could have acknowledged that he was not the man the caller wanted, but the woman sounded intriguing, and anyway, he hadn’t had anyone to talk to all the previous day. He was quite pleased that someone, anyone, was taking an interest in him.
After claiming that he was Frank Higgins, he asked what the girl wanted at this time of night. She said that she thought there was a prowler outside her place. She’d seen a shadow through the blinds and she was scared. Geoff said he would come right away.
“Oh, thanks, Frank. You’re a life-saver!” she said before hanging up. Geoff got to his feet, got dressed in seconds flat and headed for the door. He rushed down the stairs to the garage, jumped into the driver’s seat of his car and started the engine. He drove to the highway and was soon exceeding the speed limit with the whole road to himself. He wondered about the girl and asked himself: “Is she cute? Is she young? Is she tall? Does she like Stevie Wonder? Is she unattached?” – all the practical questions one needs to ask when there is a maiden in distress.
The musings came to an abrupt end. “Oh dear!” said Geoff. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” He brought the car to a standstill by the kerb. “I don’t know where she flippin’ lives!”