The chittering noise from my living room sounded rather different from the usual spectrum of lizard sounds that you get used to in the tropics. I walked out of my study in the direction of the noise, looked around, grabbed the curtains and jiggled them, and then I saw it.
We looked at each other unblinkingly for a moment. Then I calmly walked away, telephoned Alec (who had gone into the office to do some work) and said that he needed to come home and help me wrangle a bat.
I wasn’t particularly scared of it, but I figured it would be better to have both of us around in case the bat-wrangling went horribly wrong and someone needed to get to hospital for a rabies jab. Also, we were due to go out to a friend’s house for the evening and I didn’t want to give Samuel L. Batson free rein of the house while we were gone. So I closed off the rest of the house, opened the balcony door in the hope that the wind and light might make Batrick Swayze’s position somewhat untenable, sat down in the living room to keep my eye on Guano Reeves while waiting for Alec to get back, and busied myself thinking up some more names for Keira Nightly.
I got so absorbed in this task that I looked up at some point and Barack Obatma was gone! I wish I could have been more welcoming and let Batti LaBelle hang round till it got dark enough to fly away comfortably, but the high resolution of my camera screen had alerted me to the INCREDIBLY DISGUSTING ticks infesting Batalie Portman, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to give them the opportunity to explore my home.
So long, Oprah Wingfrey! Let’s never hang out again.