Every Tuesday Morning

Every Tuesday, a note comes under Dorothy's door. Priya writes about her job and her family in Mumbai. She writes: 'London is cold. But your notes make me smile.' Dorothy writes back about her husband, George, and her garden. The notes are the best part of her week.

But one afternoon, Dorothy sees a man in the corridor. He lives in Flat 7. He has headphones on. He does not look at Dorothy. He does not know her. Dorothy thinks: 'Priya thinks I am the person in Flat 7.' Then she reads Priya's new note. It says: 'I want to knock on your door soon. I want to say hello in person. Is that okay?' Dorothy is worried. She does not know what to do.