Thomasina

"We need to talk!" says a girl wearing a knitted hood and a green cagoule.  Her arms are spread wide.  In her left hand is a clip board.  I doubt the absolute veracity of her statement.  "Sorry.  I'm in a rush.  I'm late", I explain hesitating for a moment too long.  "Give me thirty seconds", she demands.  Having hovered, I succomb.

She speaks fast.  I learn about the plight of the Siberian tiger, the speed with which we are using up the world's resources and that her favourite animal is the snow leopard (a well-worn fluffy one hands around her neck).  As she pauses for breath I interrupt.  I tell her that I like her charity and that I used to do sponsored walks around Wimbledon Common in it's support as a pre-pubescent.  I also tell her that I have too many direct debits coming out of my account to add another.  She tells me I can always cancel it.

More than thirty seconds have passed but I decide to capitalise on the encounter.  She seems pleased to be asked.  I say I have never met anyone with that name before.  She says she hasn't either.  There were a lot of Thomases in her father's family but her parents didn't have a son to whom they could pass it down.  Instead of ploughing on regardless, they went for the next best thing.

I run to my destination.  I am late.