So we hear time and time again. There are two sides to every story. We're told this over and over.

What if there's more than two sides, three sides, four sides, five sides.

It's 1.30 a.m. Four sides, five sides.

It's 1.30 a.m.

And there is a knock on the door.

At first he's not sure that he has heard it correctly.

Was it the wind?

Was it an animal brushing past the house?

Then it happens again.

And the knock is more frantic.

This time he goes to the door and he sees a female and she's asking for help.

Before he can do anything, she runs into his house.

She runs past him up the stairs.

She runs into a bedroom and between a bed and a wardrobe, she curls herself up into a tiny, tiny ball.

He has no clue what to do.

Before he even has a second to think about it another female marches past him she goes straight up the stairs

and she gets that first female who's hiding upstairs and she marches her downstairs.

She mumbles her apologies for the disturbance.

She says, I'm sorry that she's come round to your house at this hour.

And I'm sorry that she ran into one of your bedrooms.

Is this the last time that this man is ever going to think about this or is this the last time he's ever going to have any dealings with these two females?

No. There's two sides to every story.

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