I was walking my dog round East Finchley, late, two nights ago. Chasing foxes, that kind of thing. And I heard a noise.

I heard muffled screaming & saw the boot of a car rattling. Oh no, I thought – someone’s trapped in the boot!

It was a small hatchback. A renault clio, I think. But still big enough that someone could conceivably be trapped in the boot.

(The boot of the car is the trunk, for my American compadres.)

Couldn’t see inside the car cos it was dark but as I got closer I was sure that there were screams coming from the boot. Urgent screams.

My rushed up to the car, pulling my dog with me. The whole car was rattling. “I have to set this person free!” I thought. BUT…

I have to do it quickly in case the person who’s trapped them comes back. This is DANGEROUS but I am A HERO. My dog is too. Both heroes.

In a swift, dynamic movement I flung open the boot of the car. The boot light came on. I was staring into the face of a woman!

The woman was naked.

On top of the woman was a man. Also naked.

They’d put the back seats down & were lying the full length of the car, heads in the boot.

The woman was clinging on to the boot, rattling it while she screamed. For very different reasons than the ones I had assumed from outside.

Except now she was no longer screaming, because she was looking up at me, horrified. As was the man. I was holding the boot open.

What does one say in that situation?

I’ll tell you what I said. I said: “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I thought you were trapped. Like a hostage. Because of the screaming and…

…the rattling. But I see now you don’t need my help. Either of you. And that this is the good kind of screaming. Sorry. Do carry on.”

It was words to that effect, anyway. I admit I babbled a bit. I didn’t want them to think I was just a weirdo pervert bursting in on them.

I also wanted to offer a little encouragement.

Then I started to close the boot – carefully. I didn’t want to trap anything. Unfortunately, my dog is very well trained…

And my dog loves car journeys.

So before I could close the boot, Harpo (my dog) did what he’s been trained to do when someone opens the boot of a hatchback.

My dog jumped into the boot. Sort of next-to (but mainly on-top-of) the faces of the two copulating strangers.

Now it was too late to close the boot. There was more screaming – but not the good kind.

Obviously I can’t undo Harpo’s training, so I said, “Good boy.”

Which I think gave the wrong impression.

After that I made a swift exit. I remembered to take the dog with me. I didn’t wait around to hear more screaming & rattling.

And THAT is the funny thing that happened to me the other night, with my dog, in East Finchley.