Some people do not like anything to be out of place. They are never late for work. They return their books to the library on time. They remember people’s birthdays and they pay their bills as soon as they arrive. Mr. Dodds is such a person.
Mr. Dodds works in a bank, and lives by himself. The only family he has is in the next town: his sister lives there with her husband, and her son, Mark. Mr. Dodds does not see his sister, or her family, from one year to the next, but he sends them Christmas cards, and he has not forgotten one of Mark’ s seventeen birthdays.
Last week Mr. Dodds had quite a surprise. He drove home from his office at the usual time, driving neither too slow nor too fast; he parked his car where he always parked it, out of the way of other cars, and he went inside to make his evening meal. Straight away, there, was a knock at the door. Mr. Dodds opened the door, to find a policeman standing on the door step.
“What have I done wrong?” Mr. Dodds asked himself. “Have I driven on the wrong side of the road? Has there been some trouble at the office? Have I forgotten to pay an important bill?”
“Hello, Uncle.” said the policeman. “My name’s Mark.”