I stared at the register in consternation. Can this be? Seriously? That someone has the same — the very same! — signature as me. (Save for her flourish over the ‘i’ to my squiggle through the ‘t’.) It’s uncanny. Three months on and I’m off to meet her at the railway station. Hmmm. I wonder: should I have taken a precaution, and hidden my banking information?