**”Guests Bring Double Joy”: How My Brother Oliver Turned a Weekend into an Endurance Test**
“Alex, you do remember your brother and his wife are visiting this weekend, don’t you?” Emma reminded me, holding a saucepan by the stove.
“I remember. Of course, I do,” I grumbled, though I’d conveniently forgotten until now. Life had been blissfully peaceful without Oliver looming over us.
Every summer, my brother and his wife would descend upon our cottage in the Cotswolds, claiming it was a “holiday”—though the only ones left exhausted were Emma and me. He brought with him… less of his wife and more of the unshakeable feeling that you were hosting your own birthday party while also expected to cook and entertain.
They arrived three hours early. His voice boomed from the gate before they’d even stepped inside:
“Blimey, Alex, it’s sweltering out here! Lovely little place you’ve got! Right, I’ll just hang my socks here to air out.”
He stripped them off and draped them over the garden chair. Emma’s eyes widened. I sighed.
“Lunch ready?” he asked immediately.
“We only just had breakfast,” I pointed out.
“Never mind, we brought treats!” He grinned, hauling out a bag. “Éclairs—best by tomorrow, but half-price! And a melon, marked down too! Put the kettle on, eh?”
By the time I’d washed my hands, he was already munching on the melon, juice dribbling down his chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand. Emma stood rooted in place, stunned.
“Well, we’ll pop off to our room for a kip, like last time, yeah?” And without waiting for an answer, he marched straight into the master bedroom. *Our* bedroom.
I shot Emma a look.
“You said yourself his back’s been playing up… and our mattress is better,” she whispered.
“Alex, come on, it’s just two days,” she added, reading my expression.
Right then, I knew: these would be the longest two days of my life.
By evening, our daughter Sophie arrived with her husband James and their two boys, Charlie and Alfie. The lads bounced around excitedly, showing off their backpacks packed with toys and snacks—they were due to leave for scout camp the next morning.
Dinner dragged on well into the night: James tinkered with the car, Oliver and Joan napped while the rest of us waited. For a moment, it almost felt normal—barbecue, laughter, the kids. Then it happened.
“Soph, have you seen the car keys? I swear I left them on the table…” James frowned, patting his pockets. “We can’t leave without them, and the train’s in two hours.”
Panic erupted. We turned the house upside down, even shifted the fridge. The boys were on the verge of tears. Only one person remained unbothered: Oliver, still picking at the last of the ribs.
“Always this lively round here?” He chuckled. “Good thing Joan and I never had kids—we’d have gone barmy!”
Emma bit her lip. Sophie nudged me and murmured,
“Dad, what if we press the key fob? If they’re nearby, the alarm will sound.”
James dashed outside while we stood dead silent inside. Then—a faint beep. From the sofa? No, the armchair. No—Oliver’s man-bag.
“Uncle Oliver, is this your bag?” Sophie asked.
“Course it is. What of it?”
“The sound’s coming from in here… Mind if I check?”
“Come off it, love, how’d they get in there?” He laughed.
Sophie didn’t wait—unzipped it and pulled out our keys, fob still attached.
“James! Found them! Quick, to the car!”
They bolted out. I turned to Oliver.
“*How* did our keys end up in your bag?”
“Don’t look at me, Alex! Must’ve been Joan—thought they were mine and popped ’em in.” He glanced at his wife.
“That’s right! Saw ’em lying about and assumed they’d been misplaced. Hardly worth all the fuss, is it?”
After they’d gone, Emma and I sat on the porch.
“Did you see them off? Couldn’t even be bothered with a proper goodbye…”
“Alex… he’s always been like this. Remember when he took the blame for you as kids when Dad was cross?”
I sighed. I did. But now he was a grown man who ate our food, slept in our bed, and pocketed our car keys.
Next morning, he was up at dawn, as usual.
“Joan and I helped ourselves to breakfast! Finished off that leftover ham and cheese. Smashing little break, this—just like a spa! Shame to leave…”
When the gate finally closed behind their car, Emma sank onto the steps and said,
“Guests bring double joy, Alex. First when they arrive. And second when they leave.”
I nodded. And for the first time in two days—smiled.
