William Thompson, our neighbour at the cottage in the Cotswolds, was always known for his hospitality and skill at grilling the perfect barbecue. His secret recipe, picked up during his years stationed in Cyprus, made his dishes truly unforgettable. But his kindness backfired when certain relatives began taking advantage of his generosity.
Every weekend, the moment they spotted smoke rising from William’s garden, his cousins and their families—who lived nearby—would turn up uninvited. They eagerly offered to help with the cooking, though their contribution never stretched beyond tasting the food and emptying the table. They never brought so much as a sausage roll or a bottle of cider, relying entirely on William’s good nature.
A polite and patient man, William endured it for a while, hoping they’d take the hint. But when their visits became a tiresome routine, he decided to teach them a lesson.
One Saturday, knowing full well they’d appear again, William prepared a little surprise. He lit the barbecue using old, damp wood left over from tearing down the garden shed. The smoke was thick and carried a foul, acrid stench.
As expected, the relatives didn’t disappoint. But the moment they stepped onto the lawn and caught a whiff of the choking fumes, they began wrinkling their noses and exchanging uneasy glances. Their attempts to pretend nothing was wrong quickly crumbled as the smoke thickened and the smell grew unbearable.
“Bill, that smoke’s a bit… off today, isn’t it?” one cousin ventured, covering his nose with a handkerchief.
“Ah, must be the damp wood,” William replied calmly, tossing another rotten plank onto the flames.
A few minutes later, with eyes watering and clothes reeking, the excuses started flowing.
“Blimey, nearly forgot—I’ve got to pop to Tesco before it shuts!” one blurted.
“Oh, the boiler’s acting up again—best check it before it floods!” his wife added.
Soon, the whole lot had vanished, leaving William in blissful solitude. With relief, he cleared away the smouldering timber and restarted the barbecue with proper charcoal. That evening, for the first time in ages, he enjoyed his grilled sausages in perfect peace.
After that day, the uninvited guests never returned without an invitation. The lesson had stuck—and William finally got his quiet countryside evenings back.
