It's Really Not My Fault

Let’s get this straight from the start. This isn’t my fault. I’m not guilty, blameless, not responsible, clean-handed, above reproach. I have nothing to declare, nothing to confess, am stainless, and have clean hands. I am not the culprit.

All right, it is my fault. But only to the extent that Adam took a dirty great bite out of the apple after Eve shoved it in his face.

Yes, Suzanne, I did say that your relatives and friends were welcome to stay at my place if they visited London. They are welcome. All of them. Any time. Without exception. But I didn’t actually issue an invitation. They asked if they could come for New Year. They asked you, not me. You sorted it out. I didn’t even talk to them. You arranged that one of your nieces and her friend, both aged 20, would stay at my place for two nights while you are here for the festivities.

Yes, I have been making jokes with friends about having to share my one-bedroom flat over New Year with three French women. Ha ha. Tough work, but somebody’s got to do it. I can play Rene the café owner and everything else takes care of itself.

No, I didn’t arrange for airport workers to decide to go on strike. I’m aware that your niece and her friend, living in Lille, will come by train and have no problems. They are turning up. And that this time you were planning to fly to London from Lyon and may have problems which prevent you from coming. I didn’t plan it. It just happened.

Isn’t it enough that I no longer think of my distant cousin and West Brom with any affection? I don’t deserve flak for this. God works in mysterious ways, as they say.

There’s only one problem. I only bought two tickets for the New Year’s Day extravaganza that is Charlton v Colchester. I expected to take you to the match. If you can’t make it to London how can I decide which of the two that are now going to be here gets to go to the game? Well, I suppose we will have a couple of days together to decide. Maybe we can devise some competition to decide who wins the prize.

(As this is the festive season there will be no prizes for anyone suggesting that the winner will be the one who doesn’t have to go with me to the game.)