As we get busier the people coming through the door get stranger and stranger.

Gentleman walks in who I recognise as booking with us in the past, announcing he wants to go back to Cyprus.

“No problem,” I say, expecting a simple sale. But no – I’m quickly informed he has a credit with TUI due to room issues on his 2019 jaunt and can he use it towards his new booking?

Straining my memory to try to remind myself of his past trip, I have no record of such a kind offer by TUI.

“Do you have any paperwork showing the compensation offered?” I ask him.

“No,” he replies. “But the rep said we could use it for our next trip.”

“Without something in writing I can’t really help,” I tell him.

This is not what he wants to hear and he tasks me with sorting it out with TUI, adding: “If it helps, the rep had blonde hair.”

After assuring him I will speak to TUI, but with no intention of actually doing so, he tells me he will call back in on Monday.

Lovely hot day, with a shop full of people and a shadow appears in the doorway.

Looking up, I can only describe a figure resembling Sylvester Stallone’s mother, in full white fur coat – despite the heat – and a face full of make-up that looks like paintings elephants do in Thailand.

“Is this the queue?” she asks, cleverly managing to say the words without really moving her mouth.

“Yes,” I reply. “If you want to take a seat, I’ll be with you as soon as possible.”

 “I want to go to Malaga,” she announces.

“No problem,” I say. “Take a seat and I’ll be with you shortly.”

“It’s a one-way,” she adds, ordering me to “do the work” and informing me: “I’ll call back on Monday.”

I’m really not looking forward to Monday….

Read more Tales from the Secret Agent here.