Sometimes when I'm on my own, I go a little insane. It hasn't happened much because I was hardly alone, but I'd been sleeping in hotels for five weeks so it had to happen sooner or later. First came the giggling, you know the mad giggling you can't shake when you see something on TV and it doesn't matter if you've seen it a thousand times before, but you can't stop it and eventually you stop making noise? Well it happened to me when I was watching The Simpson's, I fell off the bed and ended up on the floor, only managing to regain my composure when I grabbed the remote and turned the channel which in retrospect wasn't a good thing. Dirrty was playing. I'm not a good dancer at the best of times and you should never ever dance when you're having a mad half an hour, but there I was, spinning around the room, shaking my hips, swinging my hair and moving my arms. I didn't stop when there was a knock on my door, I didn't think to stop. Not even when John was looking at me and smirking did I stop, I just put more effort into it.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fantastic. What do you want?"

"I thought you might want some company."

"No, I've got MTV, I'm good."

Then I promptly shut the door in his face and carried on, only for there to be another knock.

"Are you sure you're alright? You seem very…"

"Bouncy?" I filled in helpfully as the song changed to Hey Ya.

"Yeah, bouncy. What's with that?"

"Isolation has driven me crazy. Want to dance?"

"No thanks."

I shrugged and danced back into the room, it was only when I turned back and saw John still watching me that I realised how much of an idiot I looked and promptly stopped, turning the TV off so I wouldn't be tempted.

"I mean, come in."

"Don't stop dancing on my account." John said shutting the door behind him. "Anyway, there was a reason I came here. How about you stay with me?"

Every thought in my head just stopped and believe me, that's a lot. In my head I'd been going over everything I had to do before I left for the arena, which pile of clothes on the floor was clean and how gorgeous John looked, but it all just stopped.

"What?"

"It's a good idea, I mean you've been here for weeks and you're still living in hotels, come stay with me."

"John you don't know me."

"Yes I do."

"I could be axe murderer. So could you."

"Are you?"

"That isn't the point."

I began picking things up from the floor and transferring them to the bed, in a feeble attempt to keep myself busy, it was another one of my nervous habits, it was the same when I was sitting at a computer, I had to get up every fifteen minutes even if I only went and brushed my hair I just had to do it. Besides John had put me in an awkward situation, so I'd been with boyfriends for a shorter length of time before sleeping with them (it happened once and I was drunk), but it wasn't the point, John didn't know me and I didn't know him.

"It's a really sweet gesture John, but I can't. Anyway I'll have my own place soon."

"Are you scared of me or do you not like me?" John said abruptly.

"What? What makes you ask that?"

"When I first met you, you made every excuse not to go out, then not to go sight seeing or do anything with me, now this. Do you not like me?"

Telling him I wanted to marry him and have his children didn't seem acceptable (and I didn't want to get arrested for bigamy) so I just shrugged.

"Of course I like you, it's just…like I said, you don't really know me."

"What don't I know?"

The scar on my wrist gave a tingle, a very Harry Potter-esque thing to do I thought, but I ignored it.

"It doesn't matter. Don't take it personally."

Why would he? This was me, insignificant Kate, I didn't think he'd mind not having me taking up his spare room.

"Sure, whatever, I'll see you at the show."

He left and my mad mood had evaporated, I decided to clean.

My Mother thought she would be helpful and send some 'things' to me. That was exactly how she said it on the phone, actually Aunt Janet said it when she called me, slightly hysterical when I hadn't phoned her back when I promised,

"Katherine dear! I was worried sick! Anything could of happened to you sweetie!"

Sometimes she was worse then my mother.

"Anyway darling, your Mum is sending you some things and she needs your address."

Things could of meant anything, I was expecting clothes or something, but when room service called me down for a 'parcel' all I found was one thick jiffy bag address to 'Katherine Richardson.' Bloody Aunt Janet had sent it in my married name, I wondered for a second why she'd addressed it and not my Mum. I took it up to my room and pulled it open to have a stack of photographs fall out onto my knee. For the life of my I couldn't understand why she'd sent them but there they where, in a mess on my knee. Me and Timmy, me and My Dad, me with my eyes half closed and my arm around Julian, me and Toby on our wedding day. Four years may have gone by, and I may now have been technically an adult, but I didn't look any different, even my hair was the same style. Toby hadn't changed either, except his hair was longer now in a Daniel Bedingfield style. He'd surprised me that day, he'd turned up at the registry office in a suit and everything, we actually looked like we had just got married and not, as I dreaded, like two over dressed teenagers on a night out. I still had my dress at home, it had been cheap. £30 cheap which I loved. My Mum had been very suspicious when I showed her the dress (a cream halter neck with a calf length skirt and a golden waistband, sounds disgusting but it really wasn't).

"Where are you going to wear that too?" she'd asked when I showed her the Monday before me and Toby eloped.

"Sarah's 21st. I told you that's where I'm going on Friday with everyone, over to Ireland for her big weekend away."

"Right. But all your going out clothes just about cover your backside and you in cream is just asking for trouble."

I got out of them one by throwing a tantrum, I accused her of thinking I wasn't mature and stormed upstairs. She apologised, but took it back when I came home and told her what I'd done. I wondered what Toby was doing, but I didn't get much longer to think about it, someone was at the door. I knew it was John because he was the only person I knew on this side of the Atlantic.

"No dance routine today?" he asked.

"Maybe next time. I'm working on something to go with Destiny's Child."

I gave my hips a swing.

"Last chance to come home with me, and believe me, many women would kill for this chance."

"I'm not like many women."

"I know."

That was his third remark like that. If this was baseball he'd be out, or basketball or some other American sport I was yet to understand. John went home and I stayed in my room with my pictures.