Sleep Walking: or Why One Should Avoid Wearing a Negligee

Sometimes when we are children we have stages of development that are eventually grown out of and in my case this was sleep walking. My second son also tried this a few times and I can remember being very concerned when we went to live briefly in a high block of flats. For myself I was known to tumble down the stairs and this without any damage, but also I did tread the back garden some times in the small hours and once in a new baby doll nightdress, when I was only thirteen, during a storm. No the rain did not stop me but I was rather upset to find that I was soaking wet when I did wake up.

My brother used to take advantage of my pastime when he came home late and my mother had locked up the house. (The theory being that if you did not get back in time then being outside was your punishment and the chicken house the only place of warmth.) He would climb a ladder to my bedroom window and tap on the glass. This caused me to get out of bed and go downstairs to unlock the back door. I did not realize what I was doing at the time but he had great pleasure in telling me when I was older. Perhaps I should mention here that at least seventeen years separated us and in many ways he was more like a father than a brother, but immense fun to be around.

As I started off we do seem to grow out of this odd practices, or so I had thought. (Which reminds me that I must ask number two son if he has!) A few years back in the wonderful dark ages after my marriage blew apart but I was still reasonably svelte. (And yes I can remember that far) I had some beautiful nightwear. Some I had made myself in silk and one particular negligee in heavy cream satin and lace, which was slit up to the bust on one side and held together with ties. Definitely a to die for bedtime statement! (A trifle wasted on the cats though thinking about it).

Perhaps at this point I should tell you about my house. It was my family home and where I ended up after the disaster marriage. There is an old garage at the back of the house and when I moved back in people had been dumping rubbish in it so I had it cleared and boarded up the doors. The local druggies then came along and kicked the doors in as they had been using it to take their drugs. I told the police. They were not interested unless the druggies were in situ, (As if they would stay there once they heard police sirens.) Anyway I boarded, they kicked in until I gave up. Shouting seemed to scare them off more than the threat of policemen anyway.

So here I am living in a house with a broken into garage filled yet again with other people’s unwanted furniture. Meanwhile on the outside heavy brambles and nettles are forging strategic pathways in an attempt to annihilate the more civilized aspects of the garden. The garden is some 125 feet in length and has taken me much time and effort to clear most of it. The far end with the garage we left partly to bushes and trees in an effort to stop the infiltration of burglars and other parasites. To gain access from the road to the garage it is necessary to drive around the corner bend of our road and into an un tarmaced area of alleyway that runs for some one hundred yards over mud, glass, stones, etc.

To set the scene further middle daughter was working for the BBC and as some of you must realize they do work reasonably late at times to accommodate the programme schedules. She was on a late shift and not due in until around 2am.

It is early spring and still frosty. I wake up to find myself in my full negligee, (Thank god I stopped to put on the robe) without slippers upon my feet, and facing the front door, which is definitely shut. I froze (in more ways than one) against the door and took stock of my surroundings. The world seemed to be peacefully asleep. I could not ascertain the time, as I had not applied a wristwatch before existing my house. (Not that it would have worked, as clocks tend to stop if in close contact with me.) My neighbour is elderly and will not wake up if I ring her doorbell. Other neighbours are foreign and may not understand what is happening. I have two choices. Stand where I am and freeze in the hope of middle daughter’s possible, imminent return or brave the rest of the street and the alley way. I just realized that this is the perfect point to interject a cliffhanger but no it would just mean more work.

I ran wrapping my flimsy coverings around me and ran down the street and past the bend. Then I entered the darkened alleyway and raced over the stones et al towards the brambles and home. Yes I made it though the chaotic debris and broken glass down to the house where I attempted break and entering with gusto. (Obviously a tendency I was born with as well as I made it back in doors). My feet took sometime to recover. I also took a few days before appearing in public (Mostly in black, just in case).

As a codicil, I took all my finery and put it away in plastic storage bags. Then I had a trip into Ethel Austin and bought many cotton nightdresses that were definitely not see through. No one locally has suggested that they saw me but I still ponder if they did. To my knowledge I have not tried sleep walking again but these days I have chains on the door!