14th June 2007 - That man Barrymore again

When I first saw him, he was sleeping at a table after his morning tea, sat with Lily who was awake and chatty, despite her 92 years. When I woke Dad he smiled and laughed with pleasure at seeing me and I was glad I had come.

I hadn't been going to go. I was tired, there was loads of stuff to do in the house and I was vaguely hungover. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to see Amy who'd been depressing me. She'd been very trying, she'd taken a downturn lately and she was driving everyone round the bend. She can be so vicious and so tragic. She was crying all over me yesterday because she was frightened, literally scared rigid of Bruce when he approached her. She turned to me, her eyes filled with tears that burst the floodgates and flowed saltily down her freckled wrinkles. She was so small, so fragile and said "He scares me so. He's a bad man. He comes in to the toilet and does things. Make him go away". This is Amy who thought the day room was the toilet the previous day to that and had pulled down her trousers and pants in the corner of the room just before Tweedledum shouted her to "Don't be dirty this is the day room, no the bog Amy. Put it away, ye willnae get a lumber showing these guys that! I say, ye'll no get a lumber that wey, girl, I should ken, I've dun enuff in my time tae try tae get ma Nat King - zat no right Moira? Eh? Ye'll dae onythin' sumtimes tae git a lumber?".

But Amy was scared, so I put my arm round her shoulders and told her not to worry, she was safe, no-one would hurt her. She stared me in the eye, kicked my ankle and said very low but very clearly "Git yer fuckin' hauns aff me. I'm no a fuckin' nutcase - there's many of them in here thit are but no me. Yer fuckin daft auld cunt of a faither - he's one of them. Bastard is fuckin' mental. And stinking. Stinks of shite. Yer faither stinks o' shite. So you away an' fuck off".

So I didn't want to go, didn't want to even more than usual, but I was glad I did. And Dad was glad I did.

I mentioned Michael Barrymore's arrest to Dad. He'd been arrested in connection with the death of Stuart Lubbock at his house in 2001. The news came on a bulletin that was on while I was in the home visiting - I hadn't seen the news that morning or a paper - so I was very surprised and exclaimed some sort of "Oh". Dad couldn't remember who Michael Barrymore was. He and Mum used to sit and roar with laughter at "My kind of People". The mirth always escaped me - but then I am a humourless drone as my Mum once pointed out. I always felt it was cruel. But, the point was, he watched his programmes for years and yet couldn't remember him at all. I shouldn't be surprised, I know I shouldn't - a few weeks ago he couldn't remember his own name. I was surprised though, and saddened once again. But he'd been gad to see me, so it was a good visit.