Our guests leave around mid-morning. I envy the fact that they are on holiday.
John goes off shopping for the week dressed, as usual, in his torn shorts and holey jumper. John thinks that wearing anything that doesn't look like it is about to disintegrate is very nouveau riche. John was at Food Lover's a few years ago when we were still using coins. He was determined to get rid of a whole lot of change and so insisted on counting out every single coin he had. The lady behind him in the queue obviously felt sorry for him and, thinking he did not have enough money for his groceries, offered to pay for him. That was one of my mother's favourite stories - she could hardly breathe, she laughed so much when I told her.
The man who turned up last night looking for somewhere for his girlfriend to stay, does not appear. At nine o'clock in the evening, he sends a message saying he has been working all day and is now free. Can he come around?
No.
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