You know how it is with old biddies talking.
Is it Wednesday?
No. Not her. She got married.
No that was the butcher’s shop.
Anyway I think it's Friday.
She was keeping goats, you know. In the bathroom.
And it rained every day for a month.
That Mrs.Berry. She wouldn’t use a walking stick.
It was his socks that did it in the end.
Going down like ninepins they were, her legs.
My son says it always rains on Fridays.
And of course his cat didn't like it.
And of course his cat didn't like it.
etc etc
But in my kitchen it goes like this ........
But in my kitchen it goes like this ........
Is the news on Channel 5?
Yes but I think you mean the tv. That’s the radio you’ve got there.
Because this is a daily event, the turning on of the radio to watch the telly at 5 o’clock.
Must be United, then. On a Wednesday. Manchester United?
Can I help?
She’s pressing each button in turn and swivelling knobs and muttering.
Realise I might as well be talking to myself.
Do you want me to put Radio 4 on at 5 o’clock?
Not really. Still pressing buttons.
YOU HAVEN’T SWITCHED IT ON.
Realise she’s taken out her hearing aids sometime in the last hour. And has forgotten she’s done it.
I was trying so hard to keep my mouth shut until required. While quietly walking around the wheelchair and switching on the radio for her and jumping out of my skin because it’s on FULL VOLUME. WAGNER.
God help us.
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