My neighbors believed my wife was a minor and reported me to the police, claiming that an elderly man was living with a teenage girl…

Years ago, my wife and I took out a mortgage for a flat in London. We spent weeks doing up the place, repainting the walls and mending little things, before hauling our belongings across the city. After a month, we finally moved in, feeling rather proud of ourselves for making a cosy home.

Wanting to settle in and meet the locals, we invited the elderly couple from the flat opposite for tea one Friday evening. They drank their tea at a pace Id never seen before, and the moment they discovered my wife was indeed my wife and not my daughter, they found a hasty excuse to leave.

Saturday morning, there was a knock at the door. A policeman stood there, asking for our documentsboth mine and my wifes. It was odd enough, but he was accompanied by the local vicar, who asked to see our marriage certificate. We spent nearly ten minutes rifling through boxes to find it, as everything was still in disarray from the move.

The policeman glanced enviously at my wife and apologised for disturbing us so early. As he turned to leave, he revealed hed received a report that an adult man was living with a minor. Suddenly, it all made sense why the neighbours left so abruptly after learning we were married. I was 24 then, and my wife, 26, happens to look exceptionally youthful. Shes often mistaken for a schoolgirl.

In England, you cant buy alcohol without proper identification, and that Friday, she wore two plaits and washed off her makeup before teatime, making her look even younger. The whole situation was amusing, but I admit, I shaved my beard afterwardshoping Id not resemble a forty-year-old father living with his school-aged daughter.