She was carrying three bags from Morrisons, fumbling for keys. I was carrying a chrome-plated clothes rail and didn't have a spare hand. I introduced myself as a new neighbour. She said she lived in number fifteen. I said I lived at number eighteen. I didn't mention that I had been flicking through her post. She found her keys and let me in. She was wearing fingerless gloves. I told her I had been buying a lot of furniture from e-bay. She asked if I lived with anyone. I told her my brother was staying with me. She said she lived with her sister. I decided to risk neighbourly relations and asked my question. She seemed amused. 'I've got three', she said. She asked for mine in return. We paused in the hallway. She works in a comic store in central London. She is also a freelance artist who wants to design computer games. I expressed my pleasure at meeting her with an exaggerated shoulder gesture.
I don't know whether she is the same 'Yin' as yesterday, but the letter is still sitting in the hall.
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