March 11: Bird Brain 2

I had arranged to meet my builder at my house at 1pm. I was a tad late. I pulled up in my car, reached for the handle of my front door, opened it.
‘Oohh, hello.’
He was already in my kitchen, looking rather at home, making two cups of tea, stiring in the milk.
‘Do you still have a key,’ I asked, surprised.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but I never would have used it without your permission. I drove up and your front door was open so I thought you must be in.’