the nice day

‘Well we had a nice day really. All this has come very much after the event as you might say. Yes, a nice day. We went up town and strolled around a bit. Agnes wanted a new pair of slippers, so we had a look at a few. Come lunch time we were a bit peckish so we went into that Prett Ah Mangger. And I tell you what – I had the nicest sandwich I ever had in my entire life. Guess what was in it?’

‘I don’t know. Gold?’

‘No. Crayfish and rocket. Crayfish and rocket. I tell you what. Once you had one of them you won’t want any of your old cheese and pickle no more.’

Agnes lies on the trolley between us, contentedly waggling her leopard print slippers from side to side. Every now and then she leans forward, squeezes her eyes shut, and gives a congested little gasp, like a cat stuck with a furball. But it passes as quickly as it comes, and she settles back happily enough. We haven’t been able to see anything. Her obs are normal. It’s all a bit of a mystery, so we’ve had to bring her in.

‘I hope they took the claws off’ I say to Agnes’ husband, Ron.

‘Oh, ye-es. It’s all proper stuff there. You ought to try it. Prett Ah Mangger. As I say, a very nice day, apart from all this business.’

He pats Agnes on the leg.

‘And we’d just settled down to watch our film, hadn’t we?’ he says.

‘Sorry, love,’ she says.

‘What film was that?’ I ask him.

‘Guess.’

‘I don’t know. Breakfast at Tiffany’s?’

‘Ratatouille?’ says Rae, taking the blood pressure cuff from Agnes’ arm.

‘Julie and Julia?’

‘The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and her Lobster?’

‘No. Full Metal Jacket.’