311. Under lock and key

The midnight visitor has been caught and there the story ends. We have learned a 'gypsy lesson' as my husband calls it and everyone has dug out their house key and everyone locks the house when they go out.

Miss Organiser (who eventually rustled up enough money to buy the return flight) came home this morning. After a delayed flight, delayed RER line and delayed train she finally made it home.

'The door is locked. I don't have a key. Where are you all?'

'We're home. I'll come and get the door.'

She looked tanned and summery, in her red down jacket. She dragged her small (small!!) suitcase and her backpack inside the house.

'What's going on here?'

While she told us of her trip and showed us photos of heavenly landscapes over breakfast (Baby did not even argue and went out to get the croissants and baguettes) we filled her in about the events of the holiday period.

'But that's not all. I said. There's more.'

'More?' They both shouted at the same time.

'Yes. Our neighbours. A man fell from the skies and landed in their back garden.'

They both burst out laughing.

'Mum!'