Who would know?

Here is my bicycle parked safely in the dry and out of everybody's way. To get it into this neat little niche I have to get it up three outside steps, through the communal door, up another five steps and then another three. I then wangle it through 180 degrees and round a fire extinguisher.

Once parked and locked, I take my lights, gloves, helmet, waterproofs and high-vis up to my little pigeon-loft. The stair arrangement goes like this; six, one, eight, seven, four, six. Then two doors and I'm home.

This is the same route that every single item of furniture and all my belongings have already taken.

When I arrived at home after work this afternoon I was somewhat startled to find that I had failed to lock the door to my flat when I left this morning. Who would know?