The clock was ticking toward eleven and the house was deadly quiet. Only a single downstairs light was on and it flooded out from the kitchen, onto the patio and the dark green grass beyond. Even the garden rested in peace; no cats yelping; no noise from the neighbours; no cars revving.

I leant against the wall, in the opened space of the patio doors and took a moment to myself. I breathed deeply. My breath was ever-so-slightly cloudy on the air but nothing like the bellows of winter and it was calm, calm like I’d been soundly asleep for the best part of three days…only I hadn’t yet - I’d been working and it always takes me a day or two to get my mind back from a really good festival.

The first festival in this year’s Fallyrag coverage was Bearded Theory. I hadn’t known what to expect but the trip from Cornwall to Derbyshire had proven well worth the mission. I even met Jonny Smiles…but you’ll hear more about him in the review later. Now I was tired. Three days of the outdoors, streaming good music, smiles, friends and local ale. Yes, now I was tired and I desired to be nowhere other than where I was.

Then, quite suddenly and from out of nowhere, a huge bug came hurtling through the patio doors above my head and into the kitchen. I lurched out of its way as it crashed into the far wall. I turned; half-ducking. Up-and-down-up-and-down-up-and-down it went against the ceiling. Back-and-forth-back-and-forth it went against the wall. It looked huge…monstrous even. A massive moth with the body of a rat.

Whatever it was paused on the kitchen table. I had only a moment to focus on it before it looked me straight in the eye – I swear – and went for me at full tilt. Maddeningly I stepped forwards, ducking at the same time but the bug swerved and I ended up squarely headbutting it. I – in hindsight – screamed pathetically. In my defence, for some reason, I thought it might be a hornet but still, I did scream pathetically. Both the bug and I were dazed.

On hearing the commotion Bill and Danny rushed downstairs.

‘It’s landed on the fruit bowl and it’s massive.’ I nervously half-smiled; pointing at the bowl.

‘Where?’ Bill replied disbelievingly.

‘In amongst the fruit.’

He grabbed a large glass bowl and popped it over the top. He and Danny finally spotted the bug hiding under what I’d call a particularly large orange. They couldn’t quite make out what it was so Bill slowly starting taking a piece of fruit out, one at a time, very slowly, in case the little critter escaped. Finally only the orange was left.

‘You must have stunned the little fella’ Danny finally said to me whilst playfully eyeing the bug. ‘It’s a cockchafer, or maybug to you common folk. Harmless little one, aren’t you?.’ She smiled at the bug and then turned to me with a look of mock seriousness. ‘You should be more careful! They were a highly endangered species only thirty years ago.’ She spammed me on the forehead and said ‘don’t go round headbutting endangered species you mammalian pesticide.’

Shortly, they both disappeared to bed and I bent down to look at my vanquished foe, who though he’d be down for a good ten count was now starting to move about a little more confidently. He wasn’t that big. I grabbed my phone and managed to take a photo of him – Chaffy as he will forever be known in my KO count – before releasing him back into the wild of Wadebridge.

The garden quickly became quiet again and Chaffy disappeared back into the darkness of night.