16th November 2006 - Cecilys head revisited.

Colin went to visit Dad this morning. He sent me a text to let me know Dad had seen the Dr today as they thought he had a chest infection, but the doctor said his chest was clear. He also had his 'flu jab. I decided to visit anyway in the afternoon with Ellie. Ellie was wearing her new hat - a trendy wee knitted baker boy style hat with crocheted flowers.

Everyone was in shouting form today. Bertha was shouting and shouting and swearing like you couldn't imagine, for such a sweet looking tiny little woman she's refreshingly coarse and foul-mouthed. Terry was cursing back at her in his usual yafukinbassayecunye way.

We sat at a table and Cecily joined us. Zimmered her way over to us - quite deliberately - and joined us, but then she just sat and grinned, in that way they have where you don't know if she's actually smiling or if it's some kind of rigor in her facial muscles. She picked up Ellie's hat and put it on. Ellie wanted to know why the smiling lady had her hat on. I told her not to worry that she was just trying it out and she wouldn't keep it. I was glad it was this Cecily, not the other Cecily who brushed her own hair - and anyone else who gets near - with the toilet brush. The shitty, foul smelling, bleach cover toilet brush. But it's this Cecily, this Cecily - the one who used to be a doctor. Her face is almost challenging - say something she seems to be saying - go on I dare you, tell me to take it off, and I'll thump you.

Throughout our visit Cecily sits, grinning, be-hatted. Occasionally Ellie will ask - with ascending politeness - if she can please have her hat back. "Excuse me lady, but that's my hat. Can I please have it back?". No response. Dad doesn't seem to notice or register she's even there. She's hard to ignore though. It's difficult to ignore someone sitting a few inches away from you grinning like a gaping wound, wearing your daughter's new hat and with defiance sparking in her eyes goading you to say something, to give her an excuse, any excuse to hit out.

At the table beside us Bruce and Stella are calling each other names. He's much more able than Stella so he's 'winning'. All she can muster is a few "Is that right? Well you're a bastard!" in response to being told she has a smelly auld cunt, that she'd be dead soon and then he'd piss on her grave.

When we rise to leave I ask Cecily several times if I can have Ellie's hat back. Eventually I pluck it from her head, apologetically saying we need to go and we do need to go because I can't listen to Bruce any more, listen to him destroying the now weeping Stella. When I do rise to go, Bruce wanders off in the other direction and Stella shouts after him "Where are you going? don't leave me here on my own" and hauls herself to her feet to chase after him - if you can chase with a zimmer.