“I think your mother’s house is on fire,” announced the housemate’s grandson as I walked back into their house after picking up a take-away.

“What?” I shouted in a panic.

“She’s just had a phone call and now she’s talking about fire engines and explosions,” said the excited teenager.

“I don’t think it’s too bad because she looks happy enough,” he added by way of comfort.

Following the The Mother’s voice into the kitchen I tried to work out what drama had befallen in the few hours we’d been away from Abergavenny.

“Well,” she exclaimed as she finally put the phone down.

“Is the house still standing?” I asked, slightly panicked that she’d be moving in with us for as long as we moved in with her during our house renovation.

“Oh yes, the house is fine,”she said. “But the two cars which were parked outside aren’t in such as good state,” she added.

“Apparently one of them caught fire and parked too close to another one which went up as well,” she explained.

“How come I miss all the drama,” she muttered dishing up a healthy helping of Chinese take-away.

“There’s been fire engines, explosions and the road was closed and I missed it all,” she said. “My friend up the road couldn’t even get to her house.”

When we arrived for dinner the next day she had been slightly modified by a visit from two police officers.

“I told them I hadn’t done it,” she laughed as she recounted her ‘interview’ about the dramatic fire.

“I said that I was in the Midlands and had plenty of witnesses who could provide me with an alibi!”

“I don’t think you’ll actually need an alibi,” said my sister.

“The neighbours were all very worried because they couldn’t get me on the phone,” continued The Mother. “They thought it was my car.”

“I still don’t know why you felt the need to tell them you didn’t set the car on fire,” said my sister.

“I told them that sometimes when people park over my drive and block me in, I feel like doing something,” she added.

“Well done for confessing to any future car vandalism in the Abergavenny area,” said my sister rolling her eyes in despair,.

“It’s no wonder I’m a blurter who can’t keep a secret,” she added. “It’s in my genes.”

“The police said that if I’m blocked in again I should ring them and they’ll tow the car,” she said.

“Good luck with that,” I grinned.”There’s one just down the road that burnt to a crisp two days ago and they still haven’t managed to tow that!”

“What amazes me,” said The Mother, “Is that even with a burnt out car on the road, people are still parking their cars there and heading off to the railway station. If I saw a  street that looked like a war zone it would be the last place I’d park my car!”