My first visit to my boyfriend's family

The Easter holidays in 2012 were memorable in a number of ways. It was the first time that I had been invited to stay at my boyfriend’s house and the first time I had met his parents and his brother. I drove over on a horrible wet Easter Saturday morning in time for lunch. They live in a newish 2 story barn conversion with fields on three sides. I was taken on the guided tour by his mum and saw the massive master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom and the smallest balcony I've ever seen. It was about three feet from back to front. The other three bedrooms were in the other part of the upstairs of the house but you needed to go down stairs to go up a different flight of stairs to get to them. There were 3 bedrooms in a row, his younger brother's room then Stewart's room then the guest room that I was going to use. His mum managed to say with a straight face that if I ever wanted "private time with Stewart" it was probably best not to have it next door to his brother. I just smiled sweetly (blush)! In the afternoon we went off (all 5 of us) to see some Roman remains run by English Heritage. I didn't know if I should offer to pay my own entrance charge but decided I didn’t need to as I was their guest.

I had packed some smart clothes in case the family went to church on Easter Sunday. But they are not religious, just very nice and easy to get on with. They were the type of person you somehow feel that you have known for ages even when you have only known them a few hours. We had our first go in the hot-tub - outside but under cover if that makes sense. My second blush of the visit was when I realised that 4 of us were going to be sharing the tub, not just Stewart and me. I think if I had known this I would have packed my one-piece swim suit rather than my bikini. Stewart's mum gave me a knowing smile as I came down from the bedroom where I had changed. I knew I was going to like her!

We went out all day on Monday to see the local sites and to pubs for meals. At one point all the men mysteriously disappeared and Stewart's mum and I had a little chat. It seems as if I was very strongly approved of (smug emoticon) and she just mentioned in passing that she knew that my Mum and Dad had been killed in an accident but the kind way she did meant it didn't stress me at all. We had a little joke about Stewart's brother acting as a chaperone. Stewart had wanted him banned from the house except for sleeping. We had a haggis for supper which I've never had before. It was rather like meatballs in taste and texture.

Tuesday was a horrid, horrid day!! I was supposed to be going home in the morning but when I was getting dressed I noticed a web cam on the bookshelves in my bedroom. It turned out Stewart's silly younger brother thought it would be funny to record everything that happened in my room onto his laptop just two rooms away. I suppose it was a silly prank that got out of hand, although he hid the camera very carefully so only the lens was visible when the camera was pointed at the bed. I told Stewart, he told his Dad, his Dad told his wife and all hell kicked off. His brother was dragged out of bed and, verbally, beaten to death. He didn't really have a defense or an explanation. He has admitted watching all the recordings, fast-forwarding though the boring bits. I don't understand how ANY decent person would want to spy on me like he did! I thought at the time that he was being very evasive and I wondered if he has told the whole story about what and when he recorded.

What happened to his brother? Well he wasn't buried under the patio but he probably wishes he had been. Practically everything he owned was taken away for a month and he was grounded indefinitely.

Even now, 18 months later, I find it difficult to forgive and forget!