“Guests Bring Joy – Twice”: How My Brother Derek Turned a Weekend Into a Test of Patience
“Alex, you do remember your brother and his wife are coming this weekend, don’t you?” my wife, Emily, reminded me, holding a saucepan by the stove.
“Of course I remember,” I grumbled, though I’d nearly forgotten. Life had been too peaceful without constant reminders about Derek.
Every summer, my brother would visit our cottage near Winchester, claiming it was for a “break”—though Emily and I were the ones needing the break afterward. He brought with him… not just his wife, but the unshakable feeling that you were hosting your own birthday party while still expected to cook and entertain.
They arrived three hours early. His voice boomed from the driveway:
“Blimey, it’s roasting out here, Al! Your place is brilliant! Mind if I hang my socks here? Let ’em air out a bit.”
He yanked off his socks and draped them over the garden chair. Emily’s eyes widened. I exhaled deeply.
“Lunch ready yet?” he asked straight away.
“We’ve only just had breakfast,” I said.
“No worries—me and Jenny brought treats!” He waved a bag. “Eclairs, sell-by date’s tomorrow, but half-price! And this melon—bargain! Put the kettle on, mate!”
As I washed my hands, he was already slurping down melon, juice dripping off his chin, which he wiped with his sleeve. Emily looked thunderstruck.
“Right, we’ll head to our room for a kip, like last time, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, he marched off—to our bedroom. The master one.
I just glanced at Emily.
“You said his back’s been playing up… and our mattress is better…” she whispered.
“Alex, come on, it’s just two days,” she added, seeing my expression.
In that moment, I knew: these would be the longest two days of my life.
That evening, our daughter Charlotte arrived with her husband, James, and their boys, Oliver and Harry. The kids raced through the house, proudly showing off their backpacks stuffed with toys and train snacks—they were off to summer camp the next morning.
Dinner stretched into the night: James tinkered with the car, Derek and Jenny dozed while the rest of us waited. For a moment, it almost felt normal—barbecue, laughter, the kids. Until *it* happened.
“Char, have you seen the car keys? I put them right here, on the table…” James muttered, patting his pockets. “We can’t leave without them, and the train’s in two hours.”
Pandemonium. We turned the house upside down, even moved the fridge. The boys were on the verge of tears. Only one person remained unbothered—Derek, still munching on sausage.
“Always this lively, eh?” He chuckled. “Glad we’ve no grandkids—we’d go barmy!”
Emily bit her lip. Charlotte tugged my sleeve.
“Dad, what if I press the key fob? If they’re nearby, the alarm will beep.”
James dashed outside while we held our breath inside. Then—a faint chirp. From the sofa? No—the armchair. No—Derek’s man-bag.
“Uncle Derek, is this yours?” Charlotte asked.
“Course it is. Why?”
“The sound’s coming from here… Mind if I look?”
“Don’t be daft, love. How’d they end up in *there*?” he snorted.
Charlotte unzipped it and pulled out *our* keys—with the fob.
“James! Found them! Hurry, get the car!”
They bolted. I turned to Derek:
“How did our keys end up in your bag?”
“Dunno, mate. Jenny must’ve mixed ’em up—thought they were mine.” He shrugged at his wife.
“That’s right! Saw ’em lying about, assumed they were lost, and popped ’em with ours. No need for a scene, is there?”
After they’d gone, Emily and I sat on the porch.
“Did you see them off? Couldn’t even say a proper goodbye…”
“Alex… He’s always been like this. Remember how he shielded you from Dad’s belt as kids?”
I sighed. I did. But now he was a grown man who ate our cheese, slept in our bed, and nicked our car keys.
Next morning, he was up at the crack of dawn.
“Jenny and I already had brekkie! Finished off that roast beef and cheddar in the fridge. Smashing place you’ve got—like a proper holiday! Shame to leave…”
As their car vanished down the lane, Emily slumped onto the steps.
“Guests bring joy twice, Alex. First when they arrive. Second when they leave.”
I nodded. And for the first time in two days—grinned.
