William Thornton, our neighbour at his countryside cottage in the Cotswolds, was renowned for his hospitality and his skill at grilling the perfect barbecue. His secret marinade, learned during his years stationed in Cyprus, made his dishes truly unforgettable. Yet his kindness backfired when some relatives began to take advantage of his generosity.
Every weekend, the moment they spotted smoke rising from William’s garden, his cousins and their families—living just down the lane—would arrive uninvited. They’d eagerly offer to help, but their contributions never went further than sampling the food and emptying the table. They never brought so much as a bottle of wine or a salad, relying entirely on their host’s good nature.
William, ever the gentleman, endured it for months, hoping they’d realize their rudeness. But when their visits grew relentless, he decided to teach them a lesson.
One Saturday, anticipating their arrival, he prepared a little “surprise.” He lit the barbecue using damp, rotting timber left over from tearing down his old shed. The wood belched thick, acrid smoke that hung heavy in the air.
Right on cue, his relatives appeared. But the moment they stepped onto the lawn, their faces twisted in disgust. The stench was overwhelming. They tried to tough it out—until the smoke grew thicker, stinging their eyes and clinging to their clothes.
“Will, something’s off with that smoke tonight,” one cousin muttered, pressing his handkerchief to his nose.
“Ah, just some damp wood. Should clear up soon,” William replied, deadpan, tossing another splintered plank onto the flames.
Within minutes, eyes watering and clothes reeking, they scrambled for excuses.
“Oh—blimey, I’ve got to pop to Tesco before it shuts!”
“And the boiler’s acting up—best check it,” his wife added hastily.
Soon, the whole lot had vanished. William exhaled, kicked the smouldering timber aside, and relit the barbecue with proper charcoal. For the first time in ages, he enjoyed a peaceful evening, savouring his meal in blissful solitude.
After that day, the uninvited guests never returned without an invitation. The lesson had stuck—and William finally reclaimed his quiet weekends in the countryside.
