when I visited my granny in England, people thought I was a burglar.
I loved visiting my granny, but – let’s be honest here – she was a few years older than me, so occasionally things felt a little slow for a young lad full of beans on toast.
One time I decided to see how many laps of the house I could do in ten minutes.
She lived at the end of a row of terraced houses, so I would start in the front garden, run inside, out through the kitchen door into the back garden, then onto the bin, over the wall, back through the alley and into the front garden again.
I reckoned I could do 15, maybe even 20 laps.
In fact, I did four before I bumped into a neighbour at the front door.
She had come around to warn my gran about a suspicious character she had seen hopping over my gran’s wall, again and again.
Although she ruined my chance to do 20 laps, I didn’t mind.
What are you supposed to think when you see the same young lad constantly diving over the wall of a house where you know an elderly woman lives alone?
Either it’s a gang of identical robbers…
or a plague of Morgans.
Neither of which you’d have to worry about in Hawkinge-By-Hythe.
There’s not much crime there.
On the other hand, they do have a family of identical scientific sisters…
and when a mysterious man from Luxembourg arrives in town, he seems to bring a plague of rats with him.
You can find out what happens when the locals are up against the wall in The Phoenix here now
Chat soon,
Morgan
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