Rules of Life

Author's Name: Richard Templar

For many complex reasons that would take too long to explain, I was forced to live with my grandparents for a few years when I was very young. They, like the entire generation to which they belonged, were hardworking, contented individuals. My grandfather had been forced into early retirement following an industrial accident (a truckload of bricks fell on his foot), while my grandmother worked in a large London department store. My sudden intrusion into their lives seemed to cause them problems. I was still too young to start school, and my grandfather didn't have the capacity to look after me at home (men didn't do such things in those days... God, how things have changed!), so my solution was for my grandmother to take me under her wing—a phrase that was true both literally and figuratively, as she always managed to keep me hidden from the eyes of the managers and supervisors—and so we went to work together. Going to work with my grandmother became a pleasure for me. I was always supposed to remain silent and quiet for long periods, and since I wasn't used to anything else, I assumed this was normal. I discovered then that watching customers from my hiding place under the huge desk was a great way to pass the time, and so a compulsive tendency to observe people was born within me.