Monday, 21st August
Today I felt compelled to reflect on a recent and quite unsettling experience. Ive always been an energetic woman, despite being 65 years old. My days are often fullvisiting new places, striking up conversations with fascinating characters, and recalling fondly, though sometimes wistfully, the wild days of my youth. It used to be so easy to nip off to the seaside for a summer holiday, or grab my friends and go camping somewhere scenic, or even join a river cruise for next to nothing. Everything seemed within reach, and every adventure affordable with just a few quid.
But those days feel well and truly behind me now.
One thing Ive never outgrown is my love of meeting new people. Whether on the beach or at the theatre, Id always end up befriending someone interesting, and many of those friendships lasted years.
It was during one of those summers that I met a woman named Fiona. We were staying at the same guesthouse during a particularly sunny week in Brighton. We left on friendly terms and would exchange the occasional letter or Christmas card over the years. Then, out of the blue, I received a telegram. It was unsigned and simply read: My train arrives at 3am. Wait for me at the station.
To be honest, I hadnt a clue who would send such a message! Naturally, my husband and I didnt go anywhere. But at four in the morning, there was a loud knock at our front door. I answeredand to my astonishment, there stood Fiona, flanked by two teenage girls, an elderly lady, and a man. They were surrounded by piles of luggage. My husband and I simply stared, stunned into silence, before reluctantly letting them in.
Fiona looked at me indignantly and asked, Why didnt you come for us? I sent a telegram! The taxi fare was a fortune!
I could only stammer, Im sorry, I had no idea it was from you!
Well, I had your address, and anyway, here we are, she replied. I just assumed wed always be in touch, but I never expected this!
Fiona then explained that one of the girls had finished school and was starting university in London, so the whole family had come along for support.
Well be staying with you! We cant afford to rent a place. Besides, youre right near the city centre!
I was absolutely taken aback. Were not even related. Why should we allow them to move in? Suddenly, I was cooking three meals a day for everyone. Although they brought a bit of food, they never lifted a finger in the kitchen, and I found myself running round after them.
After three exhausting days, I couldnt bear it any longer and asked Fiona and her clan to move out. I didnt really care where they went, I just needed my home back. Thats when all hell broke loose. Fiona began smashing plates and hurled herself into a hysterical fit.
I was horrified by her behaviour. Eventually, they left, but not before managing to slip away with my dressing gown, a pile of towels, andmost baffling of alla large saucepan still filled with my cabbage stew. To this day, Ive no idea how they managed to smuggle it out. The pan has simply vanished!
And so, another friendship ended, and good riddance! I havent heard a peep from Fiona since, and frankly, Im grateful. Ive become far more careful about the people I let into my life.
