The weekend before Christmas something very unsettling happened and prompted me to action. I had become too complacent while I waited for our consummation. At night I’d started to re-park my car, opposite Rebecca’s flat in Muswell Hill, in the original lookout spot; the one with the raging residents. False number plates offered me a measure of comfort and control against the uptight assholes.

It was the early hours of one Sunday morning, around 2am. I’d been dozing off and on as I kept vigil. The streets were quiet, eerie, with only the occasional drunkard shattering the silence. It was impossible to miss the giant figure that suddenly emerged from the shadows. It looked like the mythical Yeti with its sloping gait and mammoth shoulders.

I sat upright, jolted from my complacency, as this monster dared to call at my lover’s flat. He was clutching an envelope and rather than stick it through the letterbox, he carried on through the main entrance to the property, which must have been left open. I was right. She knew the weirdo. Couples share everything, yet she hadn’t told me about this freak.

I’m not one for coincidence. I’m a planner, slow and methodical, and leave nothing to chance. I map the future with meticulous attention to detail. This takes time and patience. However, the appearance of the monster forced me to action. Rebecca’s and my relationship needed to move forward. I wanted recognition as part of a couple, one with a future. My aim was to have this ticked off by Christmas. Rebecca would learn to trust me, tell me everything; all her secrets.

Christmas Eve set off a glorious chain of events which played into my hands.

Rebecca’s mother, Hazel Carrington, was the key to my success. Trailing Rebecca to Kings Cross incognito was challenging. I didn’t want to blow my cover until the time was right and this took subterfuge. It wouldn’t have been too coincidental to bang into her on the tube. But that wasn’t the plan. I needed to meet her somewhere else; somewhere she couldn’t easily escape from with casual platitudes about seeing me soon.

The flat cap came right down over my eyes. It was a natty little purchase from a local fashion store; inexpensive but functional. It wasn’t my usual type of hat so I rightly guessed that she wouldn’t give me a second glance. We shared the hot stuffy compartment, Rebecca at one end and me at the other. Next year we’d sit in the middle, tight together, holding hands.

The train heaved and lurched under the weight of Christmas travellers. I hung on to the overhead strap and kept my face averted from her wandering gaze.