NOSTALGIA UK
The head of the house (Summer 1994)
Our summer holiday was unusually short, thanks to the tightly packed programme that left us constantly scrambling to keep up with the syllabus. The house we moved into near the University of Glasgow was I believe one of the university’s student residences, usually buzzing with activity. But during the summer break, with most students away, it was lent to us—a temporary haven amidst our chaotic schedule.
Sharing the house with us was a Greek bloke whose name I can’t recall. Let’s just call him Costas. He was, if I remember right, a postgraduate student at the university. Costas had stayed behind during the break, likely to work on his research, and somehow ended up being the unofficial head of the house. This was no self-assigned role; I sensed our programme director, Mr. Munn, had appointed him to “look after us” during our stay.
Our first encounter with Costas was a meeting he called on our first evening. Standing before us in the kitchen with an air of authority, he laid out the house rules. Chief among them was the cleanliness of the kitchen, which he stressed with a level of seriousness that made it clear he wasn’t joking. “Clean up after yourselves,” he warned, his gaze sweeping over us like a headmaster addressing a group of unruly students.
Beyond that meeting, though, we hardly ever saw him. Costas was usually locked away in his room, presumably immersed in his studies, or out somewhere doing whatever postgraduates do in their spare time. His absence suited us fine—we didn’t need a babysitter, or so we thought.
Of course, rules are made to be bent, and there were times we strayed from his directives. Costas rarely commented, but when he did, his words were curt and to the point. The tension was always minor, though. Costas wasn’t overbearing, just firm, and his detached demeanour made it easy for us to go about our days with minimal interference. Looking back, he was a decent caretaker—strict where it counted, but not overly involved. Our interactions were few, our infractions occasional, but we managed to coexist in that quiet, peculiar house.
