lock

When we moved into our East London mansion, there was only one feeble lock in the front door. Despite not possessing anything remotely valuable, we decided that a second, more secure lock would be a sensible addition. If for no other reason, at least to force the robbers to cause a bit more noise when they decide to break in, thus waking us up. If it happens to be the middle of the night and we are in bed. Or to alarm the neighbours if we are, as would most likely be the case, out.

Whilst until now, the door had to be closed with a key from inside and outside, the new lock kept the door shut automatically. But the catch was – lock it from outside and you won’t be opening it from the inside.

This morning I struggled to get up as I have been, during the past days and week become accustomed to a minimum of 9 hours of sleep per night and hence the normal person’s average of close to 7 hours seemed like an unacceptable injustice. Or maybe it was because my alarm went off earlier than usually. Irrespectively, the end result was the same. I was drowsy.

When locking the door I was convinced I had forgotten about something important but could not figure what it was despite trying to think very hard.

Clik.

And a second clic.

Two hours later my phone rang. My housemate.

“You have locked me in!”

I had no choice but to hop on my bike and cycle home to release my poor housemate from her what had now become an East London prison.

When I opened the front door, indeed securely closed with two locks my flatmate was enjoying her breakfast “as she had been given some extra time”. Despite her forgiving attitude I felt remorseful.

Must make a mental note – never hear two clicks when housemate still in bed.