The old woman had a face as wrinkled as a walnut and hair almost as wild as the Old Codger’s. She had thick round-rimmed glasses that made her eyes look as big as pomegranites. These eyes looked out on a blurry world like looking through the bottom of a gold-fish bowl, and through them the Old Codger appeared distinguished and handsome. “I have got a lovely room at the top of the house that will suit you perfectly”.


“As long it is a long way away from the noisy kids”, said the Old Codger. “Don’t worry it is as quiet as a Sunday on Mars”. The Old Codger did not have a clue what she meant but accepted the room anyway and signed the registration book which she held open for him.

The Old Codger went back to his room and looked out of the window. If he leant right out he could see part of the tower and beyond a flash of the blue sea. It was late afternoon with the sun shining bright and his stomach gave a deep grumbly rumble which meant tea time. He locked his treasured posessions in his room and went downstairs.

As he opened the front door the landlady poked her head out of the hatch and said “Are you going out Mr. Curmudgeon”. Before he could answer she continued, “In that case would you mind leaving your key here. Otherwise we will never know if you are in or out so we can clean the room”. The Old Codger had never seen a cleaner room and wondered why she would want to clean it again. Then he thought she might want to look through his belongings and decided to keep hold of the key, but the stern look she gave him, with her face creased like a wrinkly cabbage made him change his mind.

He walked down to the front where people were milling about having left the beach because the tide was in. He was looking around for somewhere to eat when his stomach gave a grumble like a thunderbolt that was heard by everyone nearby. Someone laughed, then someone else, then it caught on like wildfire and soon everyone was joining in, not laughing at the Old Codger but laughing because they were happy.