21st September 2004 - How old is she?

I visit Dad today with Ellie and Mark. We are joined at our table with two other residents. One is called Cecily, she used to be a doctor, apparently. She's a birdy old woman, like the spinster chicken in a Foghorn Leghorn cartoon. The other is Lily - she's a foul mouthed old woman who's age varies between 34 and 94, depending how she's feeling.

They are both most taken with Ellie. She's clucked over and marvelled at. "How old is she?" asks Cecily. "8 months" I reply. "She's 8 months" she tells Lily "that's marvellous, my two couldn't hold their heads up like that for years, 'til they were 2 or 3. She's marvellous". Lily screeches "What's her name?" "Ellie" "Eh? What's that? Jelly?" "Ellie" "Nelly? That's nice. I was called Nelly in my last life". I talk to Dad for a bit, 2 or 3 minutes, when we are interrupted by Cecily asking "How old is she?" Mark looks at me. "8 months" I reply. "She's 8 months" she tells Lily "at 8 months my two couldn't sit up like that - she's a marvel" "She's already tellt ye that you stupid auld cunt" Lily shouts at Cecily. "Never mind her hen what's the bairn's name?" "Mark" "No, not him, the bairn" "Ellie" "Nelly? I used to know a Nelly". Mark's face is more and more puzzled.

We are brought tea and cake. The tea is beyond disgusting, but Dad drinks it at speed and with apparent relish. I ask him about his lunch, what he had and how it was and he tells me, quite happy with the food. He's still bothered about the key to his room and not being able to make it work. I've tried several times over the last few days and it always works for me, but I suggest we try it again on the way out.

"How old is she?" Cecily asks. "8 months" I say as we rise to the sound of "8 months? My boys couldn't sit up until they were well into their teens, she's a marvel that one". As we walk off to try Dad's key in his room lock again I hear Lily shouting after us "Whit's the bairn's name you ignorant bitch? Dinnae you walk away fae me! I'm only askin' wit the bairn's name is!".

Dad's key works fine. He rubs his head, baffled. He supposes it's just like when your toothache goes once you get to the dentist. But, he says, he noticed that I used that side of the door that was outermost, did I think it would work if he used the hidden one. Now I'm baffled, I ask if he means from the inside and show him how to lock from the inside. He gets cross with me. "No, no the hidden lock, the hidden one!" "Your no blinking use in these things, if your sister was here she'd get it sorted". I'm sure she would Dad, I'm sure she would. But she's not and you're stuck with me. And I'm stuck with you.

On the way out we bump into Cecily. "How old is she?"