the lady of the wigs

Today's feature: character out of my past, namely the awe-inspiring  Saga.

Wig-selling lady of a certain age, of a certain wealth. Owned a city-centre flat that I and two friends wanted to rent when we first arrived in the beautiful city of Turku to study at the university. Suspiciously told us she did not approve of renting out to students and that her husband would be very upset if she did. Agreed at last, after having my friend's mother sign a personal guarantee that we wouldn't wreck the flat.

Abandoned her doubts about us after a while, possibly after we sent her flowers for Christmas. Gave us hair products in return. Took us out in her silver BMW to a second-hand furniture store when we told her we wanted to buy a sofa. Firmly disapproved of the sofa we picked out, so we returned empty-handed. Chewed out the building manager on our behalf when he dared to voice a complaint about us.

Gently refused, after three harmonious years as our landlady, to renew our contract when we told her one of us was moving out and someone else was coming instead. Instead, went flat-hunting on our behalf as the remaining two of us were out of town for the summer. Picked out a flat, which we rented without ever having seen. (When rental agency showed unwillingness to take on us students, she threatened to remove her own business from them, and they caved.) Proved to us that we were right to trust her.

Is fondly remembered still, many years later. Possibly still selling wigs in her dusty backstreet shop.