“Guests Bring Double Joy”: How My Brother Nigel Turned a Weekend Into an Endurance Test
“Alex, you *do* remember your brother’s visiting this weekend with his wife, right?” reminded my wife, Emily, standing by the stove with a pot in hand.
“Course I remember,” I grumbled, though I’d blissfully forgotten until that moment. Life had been far too peaceful without Nigel’s looming presence.
Every summer, my brother descended upon our cottage in the Cotswolds, claiming it was a “relaxing getaway”—though the only ones left exhausted were Emily and me. He brought along not just his wife, but the uncanny ability to make you feel like the host, entertainer, and short-order cook at your own impromptu dinner party.
They arrived three hours early. Before I could even open the gate, Nigel’s voice boomed:
“Blimey, Alex, proper scorcher out here! Lovely little place you’ve got! Mind if I hang my socks here? Let ’em breathe a bit.”
Off came the socks, draped triumphantly over our garden chair. Emily’s eyes widened. I sighed.
“Lunch ready?” Nigel asked, as if it weren’t barely past breakfast.
“We’ve only just had our toast,” I said.
“Ah, no matter! Me and Sharon brought treats!” He waved a bag of discounted éclairs (expiring tomorrow) and a half-price melon. “Put the kettle on, mate!”
By the time I’d washed my hands, he was already devouring the melon, juice dribbling down his chin, which he wiped with his sleeve. Emily looked as though she’d been struck by lightning.
“Right, we’ll just pop off to our room for a kip, same as last time, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, he marched straight to *our* bedroom. *The master bedroom.*
I shot Emily a look.
“You *did* say he’s got that bad back… and our mattress *is* orthopedic…” she whispered.
“Alex, come on—just two days,” she added, reading my expression.
That’s when I knew: these would be the longest two days of my life.
By evening, our daughter Sophie arrived with her husband, Mark, and their boys, Archie and Ollie. The kids bounced around, showing off backpacks stuffed with toys and train snacks—they were off to summer camp in the morning.
Dinner dragged on: Mark tinkered with the car, Nigel and Sharon napped while the rest of us waited. For a moment, it almost felt normal—burgers on the grill, laughter, the kids playing. Then, disaster struck.
“Soph, have you seen the car keys? I *swear* I left them on the table…” Mark frowned, patting his pockets. “We can’t leave without them, and the train’s in two hours.”
Chaos erupted. We tore the house apart, even checking under the fridge. The boys were near tears. Only one person remained unbothered: Nigel, happily polishing off the last burger.
“Always this lively round here?” He chuckled. “Thank heavens we never had grandkids—drive you barmy!”
Emily bit her lip. Sophie nudged me.
“Dad… what if we hit the car alarm? If the keys are close, the fob will beep.”
Mark darted outside while we froze inside. Then—a faint *beep*. From the sofa. No—the armchair. No—*Nigel’s man-bag*.
“Uncle Nigel… is that yours?” Sophie asked sweetly.
“Sure is. Why?”
“The beeping’s coming from it. Mind if I look?”
“Bit daft, love—how’d they end up in *there*?” He chortled.
Sophie unzipped it and pulled out the keys. *Our* keys. With the fob.
“Mark! Found them! Go, go!”
They bolted. I turned to Nigel.
“How’d our keys get in your bag?”
“Search me, mate! Must’ve been Sharon’s doing—thought they were mine.” He shrugged at his wife.
“Exactly! Saw them lying about and popped them in. No need for the drama!”
After they’d gone, Emily and I slumped onto the patio.
“Did you see them off? Not even a proper goodbye…”
“Alex… he’s always been like this. Remember when he took the rap for you with Dad?”
I sighed. I did. But now he was a grown man who ate our Stilton, slept in our bed, and pilfered car keys like they were party favours.
Next morning, he was up at dawn.
“Sharon and I helped ourselves to breakfast! Finished off that gammon and cheese in the fridge. Smashing place you’ve got—like a proper spa retreat! Shame to leave…”
As their car vanished down the lane, Emily sat on the steps and grinned.
“Guests, Alex, bring double joy. First when they arrive… and second when they leave.”
I nodded. And for the first time in two days—I laughed.
