Unexpected Visitor

There are fairies at the bottom of my garden.

It is impossible to capture fairies on camera, but sometimes I have a fleeting glimpse of them.
They are on the path through the wood to my neighbours' homes - Richard the Artist, and next to him the Gamekeeper,, from henceforth known as Mellors - not for the reason you may be thinking - see yesterday's blip - but simply because as Petehis suggested, all gamekeepers should be known as Mellors.

My cottage is freezing. In the summer it's merely cool. I tend to live with the door and windows wide open to invite a little heat in.

One Saturday evening in late summer last year, I was relaxing in front of the TV when I heard footsteps. Someone walked straight into the sitting room.
I jumped up to see a man, just standing there.
"I need sanctuary for the night." He said.
"What?"
"I need to stay the night. I'll go in the morning."
My mind raced, what the heck? " You can't stay here."
"I only need to stay the night." he insisted
"I don't think so."
"Call yourself a Samaritan...."
I needed to keep calm, of that I was sure. "What's the problem?"
"My car's not working properly."
"Let's go and look at it." I knew I had to get him out of the house. He was maybe sixty five, slight build, and becoming agitated.
I ushered him outside and shut the door behind us.

His car, an old grey Ford, was parked close behind mine. Now, I don't live on a street, a road, or even a lane. He had turned off the lane, up the farm track and right into my drive.

"Is there a problem with your car?" I asked "Does the engine work?"
"Yes, the engine is fine, but the lights aren't very good."
"You can't stay here. You need to go now before it gets dark. Come on now, it's time to go."
"Call yourself a Christian, I'm only asking to stay one night."
"No, you can't stay. Now please go."

I turned and ran back into the house, locking the door behind me.
I watched from the window as he opened the boot of the car and rummaged around. After a couple of minutes, he was still there.
I went out, locked the door from the outsides, having assessed that I could probably run out into the lane faster than him if necessary, but I kept my distance.
"I've asked you to go, now please, you need to get home before it gets dark."
"Call yourself a bloody Christian... " He started.
"I am asking you to go. Now. If you don't then I will call the police."

I went back into the house, thinking if I ignored him he would drive off.
Five minutes later, he had the bonnet of the car open and was checking the oil.
"What are you doing now? Just go. Right I'm phoning the police."

I made the call, and explained the situation.
"Is your life in danger?" The voice on the phone asked
"Not immediately, but it could become so at any time. I am on my own in an isolated cottage, with a male stranger refusing to leave"
They said they'd send someone.
"Let me give you directions, they won't find it from the post code or sat nav."
"No it's OK they won't need directions."

I waited and waited..... After 20 minutes, with no sign of the police and the man still tinkering with his car I called Mellors from my mobile in the garden.
"Mellors, can you come round, I've got a bit of a problem here"
He must have known something was amiss from the tone of my voice, and drove round immediately in his Land Rover.
"You alright, darlin'?" He asked.
I explained the situation, and he went and talked to the chap.
What surprised me was his tone, I thought he would be all guns blazing, but no, it was: "Alright mate, what's the problem?"
They chatted for a couple of minutes, then Mellors came to me and said
"He's forking bonkers, I think you should phone the police again, just so they know there's a nutter here"
"Shame, I haven't got my shot gun in the Land Rover" Said Mellors. "That would sort him out"

I left Mellors chatting away to him and called the police again.
" Let me give you directions, they won't find the place from just the post code."
" No it's fine."
"Tell them they will need to go past the pub"

Mellors stayed with me, taking turns talking to the man, and then me.
After another half hour my phone rang.
" Hi it's the police here, were by the pub, we can't find you. Where are you?"
"I told the control room you wouldn't find me."
I gave directions. They arrived five minutes later.

A police woman and a police boy.
The boy spoke to the man and Mellors, the WPC took me into my cottage, their arrival made me realise that I was actually quite stressed by now.
She took a statement from me.
The police boy came in having interviewed the man.
"He is very religious you know."
"What?" I said in disbelief.
"Hang on, that doesn't give him the right to walk into my home and ask for sanctuary. I think you need to go back and tell him that. And then get rid of him."
They spoke to him again and started his car. He couldn't reverse out of the drive, so the P boy got the car back onto the lane and watched him drive off.
The police woman and boy spoke to me again. I complained about the time it had taken and their lack of concern for my safety.
I guess they have more important things to deal with on Saturday nights round here.

Mellors stayed until the police had gone.
"You alright darlin'?" He asked as he put his arm round my shoulder.
"I'll be fine."

"Forking nutter and bloody useless cops have made me late for the pub."

Thanks for being the best sort of friend, Mellors.