Down in the guest room. The woman in the flat above has a television on loud enough for it to be intrusive. I am noting this as this morning she asked me to make sure I close the door to the guest room quietly as she hears it in her flat. Fair enough, and I know that I let it shut behind me with a bang when I arrived yesterday afternoon. After which I made sure to hold onto it and control the closure.
However, she went on to tell me that I had disturbed her several times between nine and nine thirty last night. I frowned at her. She misunderstood. “You'll know now,” she said with a forgiving smile.
“I wasn't in the guest room at that time,” I explained. “I was still with my aunt.” Aunt, who was looking equally bemused by the accusation, corroborated that I had been with her. I don't mind being blamed for noise I am making, but it is a different thing if I am going to get a reputation for inconsideration when I have been nothing of the sort, especially by a woman who listens to her television at full volume, and claimed today that she goes to bed about eight.