I am a woman who thrives on staying active. Even now, at sixty-five, I find ways to explore new places and meet fascinating people. Memories of my youth sweep over me, filled with both joy and sorrow. Back then, you could take a holiday virtually anywhere you fanciedoff to the seaside, camping with friends and colleagues, or even a river cruise. And you could enjoy all these adventures with barely a penny to your name.
But that chapter has closed, locked away in the past.
I’ve always adored meeting new people. I found friends on the beach, at the theatre, and kept those friendships alive for years.
One night, my husband and I received a telegram that puzzled us, and we couldnt figure out who could have sent such a thing. Neither of us was planning to travel anywhere. At four in the morning, the doorbell shattered the silence. I opened the door and stared, numb with shock. Standing before me was Sarah, two teenage girls, an elderly grandmother, and a man. They were surrounded by an enormous pile of luggage. My husband and I could barely process it, but eventually we let our unexpected guests into our flat.
Sarah turned to me and asked, Why didnt you leave for us? After all, I sent you a telegram! And anyway, taking a taxi costs pounds!
Im sorry, I stammered, but I had no idea who sent it!
Well, I had your address. So here I am, she replied bluntly. Honestly, I thought wed just stay in touch by writing, nothing more.
Sarah explained that one of the girls had just finished school and was bound for university. The entire family had come to support her.
Well stay with you! We cant afford rent, and you live nearly in the city centre!
I was staggered. We werent even relatedhow could they expect to live with us? We were supposed to provide meals three times a day. Theyd brought some groceries, but didnt bother to cook themselves; I had to serve everyone.
I couldnt take it anymore. After three exhausting days, I asked Sarah and her relatives to leave, not caring where they went. The situation exploded into a heated confrontation. Sarah began smashing dishes and shouting wildly.
Her behaviour stunned me. Eventually, they left, but not before managing to swipe my dressing gown, a few towels, and, bizarrely, even my big pot of cabbage stew. To this day, I have no idea how they managed to take it. It simply vanished into thin air.
