The visitors

THE VISITORS
This is being written purely for the record.
Some three weeks ago we were contacted by a couple that lived a few
doors away from us for the last few years, indeed when they lived here
we had become quite friendly with, and had socialised with, having
spent the odd evening in each others houses for a few drinks and been
out for a meal a couple of times. Indeed I had even, introduced him to
the delights of our local college, where I have been enjoying the
delights of a creative writing course, and he joined it for one term
last summer.
Now I cannot for clarity's sake leave them as an anonymous body like a
French company, so they have to have names; Alex and Jean. I t had been
arranged by email that we would book a table at a local; hostelry
called the Wheatsheff, in a nearby village for a meal on the Sunday
evening. We had no idea t arrangements this couple had made for the
weekend, but did know that they came originally from the Wirral and
still had family there, so whether they were visiting family whilst up
here we didn't have any knowledge of. They had moved from Abergele last
summer down to the south coast.
We duly turned up at the appointed time at the restaurant, sat down and
ordered a drink when in they both strolled, we need to ask a
question,
'Was it you that was riding behind us with your headlamps on full
beam?
'No! No, we've just come down from our room'!
'Oh I see your staying her tonight are you?'
'We've had a couple of nights staying with our son on the Wirral, and
as were eating here this evening we thought it would be a good place to
stay' This lead to the automatic question,
'So when do you head south'?
'Oh er tomorrow'. With this we all enjoy a comfortable meal, I might
add at my expense. Towards the end of the meal I enquire,
'What are your plans then for tomorrow'?
'Well we thought a leisurely breakfast here then we'd call on you for
coffee and see what has happened in the street since we left'. So as we
part company they say we will be round in the morning about 10 ish, at
which my wife intercedes
'We do need to call in at Llandudno tomorrow sometime but it doesn't
matter if it is morning or afternoon, we've just had spare room
decorated and I want to get some bedding too match'. We then go all
through the pleasantries, a nice evening etc. The following morning at
the appointed hour we make sure that our mad dog is safely secured in
the kitchen before they arrive; Jean has always seemed to be somewhat
unsure of dogs particularly when they have got her by the throat. They
come in look round at how the garden is developing and what we have
done since they moved away. We have coffee and they sit there, lunch
time comes round, sandwiches are produced. Eventually it gets round to
about two o'clock and my wife says,
'We do need to go to Llandudno this afternoon, before you go to my
Doctor's appointment Barry', thinking that this will fetch everything
to a close, but no.
'We would like a look round Llandudno, not having been there for
several months now'. Out we all go loading my wheelchair into car and
out at Llandudno. Then it is almost beyond belief every shop we went in
they trailed after us, even into a caf?. Then at almost four o'clock I
said, 'We better get going my appointment time is 4.45'. I am sat there
in my wheelchair and Jean asks,
'What's the matter Barry are you not well'? Not being one to miss an
opportunity I reply quickly,
'No i'm ok it's just a routine yearly call for a prostrate
examination'
'Oh I see' says Jean 'We'll come down with you I can hold your
coat
it will be nice to see Dr Hardaway again, I wonder if she ever got
those blood results of mine back from the lab'.