Sunday

Rosey stayed the night

Typical isn’t it? Supper finished, and time to slump in my cosiest chair and watch telly with just my bottle of malt for company. Best of all, The Terminator had just started. I love that film.

Ring-ring. Doorbell. I considered pretending I was out, but then thought I might just have won on the lottery and there was someone outside with a cheque for a few million.

But no. Instead, I discovered my friend Rosey. She had locked herself out of her flat and needed the spare set of keys I look after for her. I went to get them and when I returned to the door she wasn’t there. Instead I found her plonked in my special chair watching the pirated copy of Alice Through the Looking Glass she strangely gave me for my birthday!  (Some ladies aspire to be like Kim Kardashian. Rosey? Alice!)

‘Couldn’t spare a thimble of chardonnay I suppose?’ she asked with that innocent little-girl-lost expression she does so well.

Needless to say, one drink became a bottle and then the start of a second. Clearly she was going nowhere so I reluctantly suggested she stay overnight. She lit up at the offer and immediately asked me where I would be sleeping! I told her in no uncertain terms that I was to be in my bed and she would have to make do with my inflatable camp bed.

That was last night, and when I got up this morning Rosey had mercifully gone. I ran a bath and when I got in the water was cold. Rosey! I thought I’d console myself by eating the beautiful croissants I brought back from France the other day. Gone. I got the coffee jar from the cupboard. I nearly emptied it yesterday, but I saved enough for one cup. Bloody empty! To add insult to injury I tripped on an empty wine bottle.

Why do I like her? God only knows!