A secret child and fake deaths in Welsh seaside resort (Rousse)

I landed in Wales for a holiday with my in-laws. Amongst the others first to arrive at the vast hotel were TPR, his sister JLR, and his mother and step-father. I detected a strange atmosphere, particularly around my mother-in-law and sister-in-law. Something was up!

My suspicions were raised further when I witnessed JLR trying to sneak into the bathroom with a bundle in her arms. From the doorway I watched her place a toddler in the bath. This couldn’t possibly be JLR’s child, even though the little girl bore a striking resemblance to her. When I confronted JLR, she was forced to admit that this was her younger sister’s secret baby, born just before she fell pregnant with her second son. The only other family member who knew about the toddler was my mother-in-law. I promised to keep this information to myself.

The following day we had the option of travelling into town to see the traditional tourist attractions such as the prom, the botanic gardens, and the fairground rides. I hoped that TPR would accompany me, but he opted to stay at the hotel and program instead. JLR, however, set off with everyone else and I was looking forward to chatting with her as we explored the resort. As soon as we stepped off the bus, I realised that she had other ideas. She popped in her earbuds and strode off, leaving me to my own devices. I was furious. Why had this family invited me to join them on holiday when they did not want to spend any time with me?

Back at the hotel once more, I caught sight of TPR heading along a corridor. ‘The F family is here!’ he shouted. I followed him up a staircase.

Sure enough, in a room on the fourth floor, L, T and their daughter K were there, lying pale and still in bed. I thought that they were all dead until T whipped off a soft plastic death mask, delighted to have fooled us with his prank.

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Kitty cat breakfast (Rousse)

The black kitten curled up atop the little black dog looked ever so cute.

I looked for my phone so that I could photograph this touching scene of animal friendship.

In the meantime, however, another dog had taken a fancy to the kitten. It popped the wee creature into its mouth and – before anyone had time to intervene –  munched on it as breakfast.

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American chain hotel escape room code-cracking (Rousse)

Admittedly wandering in and out of the bedrooms of other guests in the massive American hotel was not normal behaviour, especially when dressed in your pyjamas. However, I believed that I had special privileges. I was, after all, a long-term loyal customer of the hotel chain. I explained this to the appalled mother who shielded her toddler when I burst into their room.

From there, I ran along the corridor to catch the lift downstairs to the lobby to meet TPR. A waitress in her smart hotel uniform slipped in beside me. I pressed the button for the ground floor and the lift shunted downwards – and downwards, and downwards, suddenly very quickly. We were in freefall!

Fearing for my life, I scribbled a final message to TPR in the condensation on the steel lift door, with the instruction that he should marry again as soon as possible after my funeral. My words proved redundant when we landed gently at the bottom of the lift shaft, the doors opened, and we walked out into a large underground space laid out like an escape room. The staff who welcomed us there explained the challenge to crack the code. If successful, we would be released.

I knew that TPR would love this, and hoped that he would soon be welcomed to the escape room too. My only was concern was that his sister J had fed him ecstasy disguised as half a mint toffee humbug the previous day when we had been on the beach with our cycling friends WM and BM. He might not yet be in a fit state to take part in the game.

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A biker boy with a secret (Rousse)

I abandoned my friend for the company of a gang of bikers in the bar. They looked quite threatening in their leathers. However, once they had removed their helmets, they were recognisable as a set of old blokes. All were childhood classmates of mine.

PN was still incredibly shy, and super-successful ST was super-friendly.

I was most interested in talking to CC. I wanted to discover why he would regularly come up from Oxford to Birmingham in our student days supposedly to visit me, yet spend most of his time with NA instead.

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Northallerton joy riders (Rousse)

The last time that we visited Northallerton, we stayed one night in a hotel. Overnight joy riders stole our red Peugeot 205, then dumped it in a school playing field.

This time we left the car in a queue at a level crossing while we watched out for the passing train from the barrier. Once again the joy riders struck. However, in this case we saw them circle the vehicle round the playing field and then leap out of it when the school bell rang.

We followed the miscreants into the school building and – with the permission of reception staff – all the way into the classroom. The teacher agreed to help us find and punish the young criminals.

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A dirty career switch (Rousse)

The SEB had been sacked from her high-paying job in the oil industry and was now working as a laundry assistant in a gym.

‘Good enough for her!’ we all thought, somewhat uncharitably.

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Peter Rabbit, Harris Tweed, and a dodgy charity shop manager (Rousse)

TPR took my mother back to the car while I continued to root around the charity shop.

I paused over a Peter Rabbit china set. This would be a perfect present for my second cousin T’s wife S, but how would I transport it on my tandem? Then I unearthed a dozen mis-priced Harris Tweed ties amongst a load of old men’s suits, one of which would look great with TPR’s blue Harris Tweed jacket. These were transportable, but I rejected them because they looked a little worn.

The shop staff told me about the sister charity shop just a short walk away. There I might find a brown Harris Tweed hat. I reckoned that TPR would not mind waiting a little longer for me, so made my way through the shopping centre to this other shop.

At first I found the manager friendly and attentive, but then he started telling me details about my life and showing me unflattering photographs from my EdCM days. How had he found out so much information about me so quickly? It seemed that he had performed a reverse image search on a photograph of my face the minute that I had walked into the saleroom.

His interest in me was all the more irritating when he followed me to my hospital bed and hinted that he knew all sorts of sinister stories about my medic friend PM, who was caring for my poorly ankle. I couldn’t wait to discharge myself and escape from this vile person.

Meanwhile TPR had no idea where I was. I couldn’t contact him by phone to tell him because his mobile was next to mine, inside my handbag.

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Tram thief loses all her savings in North Yorkshire train scam (Rousse)

On the approach to Northallerton, I quickly responded to the questions of fellow rail travellers about my family by showing them the photographs that I kept in my holdall. I then packed the photos away under my three cashmere jumpers, left my seat, and readied to leave the train.

The plan was to meet the others at Preston Park Museum in Eaglescliffe. This was some distance away from Northerallerton, but I had packed a perfect mode of transport for the journey – an Edinburgh tram! I left GG almost at a standstill on his bike as I manoeuvred the tram out of Northallerton station and on to the open road.

It was only as I was trundling past lush North Yorkshire meadows that I considered the crime of stealing a tram and the practicalities of returning it to the depot in Edinburgh without being noticed.  This turned out to be the least of my worries, however, when I discovered that my holdall was no longer in my possession.

The questions about my family on the train had been part of an elaborate scam. Somewhere near Darlington someone was now masquerading as me and spending all my savings.

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Three in a bed shocker (Rousse)

Although DM had a great reputation for hospitality, and the accommodation that she presented to me was exactly as described, I was shocked when I realised that DM expected me to sleep three in a bed with my university friends JS and DS.

This was such a pity because DM had taken much care to make the room in her son’s house as welcoming as possible. The bed was so cosy with layers and layers of blankets. There was even a lovely warm hot water bottle nestled between the sheets.

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John Cleese car beater copycat (Rousse)

John Cleese must have heard similar stories hundreds of times before.

Nevertheless, he was still kind enough to smile when I explained that my father used to lose his temper Basil Fawlty style, and could easily be envisaged striking the bonnet of his car with the branches of a poor unsuspecting tree.

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