22 JUNE 1985, Page 36

Home life

An uninvited guest

Alice Thomas Ellis

She walked idly under the overhanging branches of the weigela, pushed open the gate with a nonchalant hand and, humming a light air, stepped into the garden. Then she stood, suddenly still, aghast, for there before her astounded gaze . . . .

Enough of that. Anyway it wasn't her, it was me, and what lay before my astounded gaze was a filthy large stranger in a mac curled up on the mat outside the front door, fast asleep. I crept into the house through the laundry door and I said to Janet in a shocked whisper, 'There's a drunk in the garden,' and Janet said, 'So what's new?' I said that there was all the difference in the world between a drunken friend in the garden and a drunken stran- ger and added that I didn't at all care for the look of this one. The sons were all for picking him up and throwing him out, but when I had roughly described his dimen- sions and the overall cut of his jib they decided against it. Besides there is always something vulnerable about sleeping peo- ple and while I could see that it would not be appropriate to wake him with a cup of tea and a copy of the Times, I could see no reason for physical violence. He was only asleep after all.

Then as the afternoon wore on we realised that the daughter would soon be home and might not take too kindly to the unexpected presence, so we telephoned the police and put the problem to them.

An amiable officer said indulgently that it was probably only a wino and we said we knew that and we didn't want to make a fuss but we found him inconvenient, so he said he'd send someone round and we waited. While we waited the sleeper awoke in a confused and disoriented state and attempted to leave by climbing down the wall into the dug-out part of the garden, so we rang the police again and said he was clumping all over the morning glories now and we were getting a bit fed up, and the policeman assured us that an officer was on his way. So we hung up and waited.

While we waited the stranger finally located the gate and went out, but not far because he clearly regretted this move and kept coming back, opening the gate and peering round, whereupon all the inhabi- tants of the house would fling up their respective windows and screech at him to go away. This went on for some time.

There was still no sign of the police officer and I suggested that perhaps we should go out and double-park the car, at which they would be upon us in droves.

Eventually the stranger drifted away around the corner but I couldn't relax because a new worry had occurred to me.

Someone would shortly be returning from a convivial lunch at Bertorelli's. He had left wearing a mac so there was a ten per cent chance that he would return in it. (I put it no higher because he is careless about these things.) Should the police arrive in expectation of finding a merry person in a mac it was entirely possible that they would not be disappointed.

There is a great deal of drunkenness round here in one way and another. The most spectacular examples take place in the doorways in the market where men and women break their fast on sherry and cider and continue drinking all day, mostly in a spirit of comradeship, shaking hands when one of their number leaves and wishing him God speed but occasionally falling out and howling at each other.

When addressing other members of the public however they are usually polite, asking nicely if one would lend them 30 pence for a bag of chips, and while I know perfectly well that they have no intention of buying chips but are saving up for a bot- tle of VP wine, I can never see how a re-

fusal would be justified since there is al- ways the possibility that they really do in- tend to buy a packet of chips.

I have been told by high-minded people that this sort of hand-out is, on the part of the donor, evidence of a slimy desire to be good, to ingratiate oneself with God, or to look sweet in the eyes of one's fellows, and is also degrading to the recipient; but several of my friends and I have often muttered uneasily to each other, 'There but for the Grace of God,' and I know that if I wanted 30 pence for a bottle of wine or a bag of chips I wouldn't feel insulted if somebody gave it to me. And I know damn well that I wouldn't give a toss for his motives in doing so. Besides, if I really wanted to be conspicuously good I'd have rushed out and put a blanket over the stranger, and I didn't.