As I was walking along the beachfront this evening, I spotted Agnes (who names a little baby Agnes?) setting up for the night. It was freezing, and I was acutely aware that I have that big spare room downstairs that’s warm, dry and contains a toilet cubicle and a double bed.
As I was agonising about what to do, feeling guilty, it started to rain, so I made a snap decision and approached her and asked her if she’d like to sleep at my place for a few nights, as I had a spare room.
Surprisingly, to me, she didn’t jump at the chance, but after a bit of persuasion on my part we loaded all her stuff into my car and I took her home and installed her. The room is downstairs off my garage and has a separate entrance, so I told her she could come and go as she liked for the rest of the week, but not to invite anyone else in, not to disturb the neighbours, not to drink, not to smoke inside and not to come upstairs. From the look on her face, I could sort of see why she preferred to be homeless.
Then I came back upstairs, locked the door to the stairwell, and now I’m wondering if that was a good thing to do or not.