Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Tuesday, 4 July 2017
The last laugh
I've been put in mind of grandparents this morning, what with Milly Dowler's sister and mother talking of theirs and Joanne wondering where an entire month went.
I never knew my grandparents, or at least I have only one memory of one grandmother. They were all genuine Victorians, which is a sobering thought.
I was pushed to the front of the small gaggle of relatives toward what must have been my father's mother, lying on a bed from which she was obviously not expected to rise.
"Give your grandmother a kiss", someone - probably my mother - said.
I looked at the long hairs sprouting from moles on the old woman's face and hesitated.
I was also expected to say something, and having heard everyone else say 'Get well soon', after I had planted a reluctant kiss on the wrinkled skin I stepped back and said, "I hope you DO get better, Nana".