Friends of Friends Arrived for a Holiday: I Regret Not Saying “No.

Friends of friends turned up for a holiday at my place: I regret not saying no.

Last summer my old schoolmate, Emily, rang me in a panic, begging me to host her best mates for a week. Theyd decided to soak up the sun on the south coast, so Brighton it was. It felt rude to decline, so I agreed but I warned her:

The high season is in full swing, so I cant hand out a free room. And it would make me uncomfortable to charge your friends for a place Im already paying for.

Emily laughed, Darling, theyll pay. Money isnt the issue; theyre just scared of scammers who take deposits and then either lock the guests out or boot them halfway through the stay.

I fell for it. Had I known how much the week would cost me, Id have bolted.

Feeling a bit uneasy, I gave them a generous discount roughly half the normal rate, which in pounds was about £150 a night instead of £300.

The day arrived. Instead of the promised family with a tenyearold boy, they rolled in a teenage girl as well. No bother, I thought, theyre just acquaintances. The problem was the threeperson room suddenly felt cramped.

The welcome dinner went off without a hitch; I cooked a proper fishandchips supper and gave them a quick tour of the pier and the old Royal Pavilion. After the good wishes, I slipped back to my own duties.

On day two, Oliver, the little guest, managed to fire a waterpistol at the TV and shattered the screen. His parents were in the room, but that didnt stop the mischief. The couple apologised profusely and promised to foot the repair bill, yet the set remains in a shop waiting for a fix. I handed them a spare TV from the next door, asking, What will you be watching tonight?

Later, the teenage girl, Poppy, boiled a kettle and forgot to add water, leaving the whole thing scorched. The next disaster involved a bit of DIY: they started rearranging the tiny room, tripped over a nightstand and a table leg, and both pieces snapped. Poppy giggled, Look at all these spare bits! Well tape the table leg and stuff the nightstand nothing major.

The climax was a raucous party that roared on until the small hours, complete with slurred singing and shouty cheers. At 11p.m., I asked them to turn the music down. Their response? Were on holiday, we paid for it. After a second reminder the volume finally fell.

I didnt want to argue with drunken revelers, so I waited until morning. Then I sat the couple down and told them bluntly that their behaviour was unacceptable they werent the only guests here, and they needed to treat the appliances with care.

They shrugged, We paid the money. I snapped, You should be grateful youre even staying as a friend of a friend, otherwise youd be out on the road!

My words seemed to have an effect: they behaved more modestly, and no more appliances gave out. The friendship, however, did not survive.

We stopped speaking altogether, but that didnt stop them from absconding with the little gifts and souvenirs Id prepared for them and for Emily. They also vanished with two large bath towels and a fluffy fitted sheet from the room.

Emily and I had been inseparable throughout secondary school, right up until she married and moved to Manchester. Shed always described her friends as polite and wellbehaved. If that were true, they could have been our summer guests every year.

In the end, Emily kept quiet for a long while, then finally hinted that the holiday had been a disaster for them: They kept saying I was nagging and ruining the mood, even though they paid a lot of money!

Im sorry, but the cash they handed over didnt even cover a new TV, kettle, table, nightstand, bedding or towels. Add to that my frayed nerves and the irritation of other guests, and you have a reputation taking a hit next year the holidaymakers might just pick another seaside B&B.

Still, I learned a massive lesson: sometimes the best answer is a simple no.