I consider pressing the bell for a second time but decide to count to ten and see what happens.
This is obviously a wind-up. God, how embarrassing. I polish my shoes behind my trouser legs and, in the process, nearly fall backwards down the steps. I steady myself on the railings and look round discreetly to see if anyone has seen this ridiculous manoeuvre. Fortunately they haven't.
Come on. It can't take that long to get to the door. Unless she's on crutches. Or in a wheelchair. Or she's 105 but with the mind and libido of a twenty-year-old. What the hell am I doing?
It's still warm outside...