(One good deed deserves another)

There was an old lady who lived alone for thirty years. She collected all sorts of bric-à-brac, ornaments, antique books and other things she fancied, mostly from the charity shops in the high street where she lived.

She was so mean; she threw nothing away and gave nothing back to charity. Over the years her house was turned into a cross between Alladin’s cave and a refuse dump. She accumulated so much stuff, she could hardly move around. Some of it was valuable, most of it was not.

When her husband died, he left her a fortune. But the old lady didn’t trust anyone, especially the banks. So she took all the money out in ten-pound notes, sorted them into bundles of a hundred and wrapped each bundle carefully in a plastic freezer bag. Then she hid the bundles in safe places all over the house.

The old lady even bought a second-hand PC for ten pounds. She heard all about the social media craze and thought it would be good for her to communicate with the world, now she stayed indoors and met no-one. But she had no idea how to make it work. So, it lay under a pile of other stuff, gathering dust, until one day she mentioned it to the young man who lived next door.

“I’ll have a look at it for you if you like,” he said.

“That’s very good of you Harry. Please come in.”

She showed Harry into the room where the PC was and left him alone to fish it out. He had to move a pile of books to find a power point, before he could get to work. He got the PC connected to the internet and it was up and running in thirty minutes. Then he signed her up on Facebook, became her first friend and taught her how to use it. That took a lot longer, but she was so thrilled, she made him a cup of tea and gave him a plate of stale biscuits.

“Do I owe you anything, Harry,” she whispered as he walked out the front door. “I’m a bit short of cash right now.”

“That’s alright, thank you. There’s no charge.”

“You’re so kind, Harry. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s been a pleasure. Bye, bye.”

A week later, the old lady looked out of her lounge window, for the last time, and saw Harry driving a brand-new red BMW 325i up his driveway. He’s a clever lad, she thought, I always knew he’d do well for himself one day.

She died the next day, just as the last light bulb went out.

His father always said ‘Mark my words, Harry. There’s money in computers.’