ON THE DAY OF ATONEMENT

I’ve always found the senior citizens cinema show on Wednesday mornings to be an ideal venue for widow-shopping. It’s a cheap morning out for an elderly widower, £3.50 for a top feature film plus coffee and biscuits, and is generally patronised by that better class of widow who seems to be particularly susceptible to my old-fashioned charms. One needs to be alive to one’s opportunities, of course, and it was my quick thinking, watching a screening of ’Atonement’, that enabled me to pull Daphne Murgatroyd.

            The situation arose during that scene in which a lucky fellow was tangling steamily in the library with Keira Knightley. The audience was engaged in a tense bout of communal heavy breathing when the moment was shattered by a loud embarrassed giggle from the woman next to me which elicited much foot shuffling and self-righteous ‘shushing’ and ‘tutting’, causing my unfortunate neighbour to attempt to fold herself up inside her tip-up seat. I seized my opportunity and patted her arm comfortingly. “Please don’t distress yourself, my dear” I whispered, “you are obviously a lady of some refinement, so please don’t let the reactions of these uncultured people distress you.”

             Daphne, as she later introduced herself, smiled at me gratefully through the gloom, and I followed up my first advance at intervals throughout the film, so that afterwards she enthusiastically accepted my offer of a two-for-one pub lunch, a speculative investment on my part of £12.30, (plus tip) and afterwards she agreed to come back to my room at the Happy Haven Retirement Home for coffee and cake. I smuggled her in through the side door to avoid confrontation with my close friend, Miss Lashley, (room 10) who for reasons I do not understand,is under the misapprehension that she exercises proprietorial rights over me.

            I should explain that I have harboured unrequited fantasies regarding Veronica Lashley since she took up residence two years ago but, disappointingly, she sees herself as the Happy Haven’s Virgin Queen. with me as some sort of Walter Raleigh figure. Sadly, I have realised  that my ship has no chance of dropping anchor in Miss Lashley’s harbour which is why I occasionally indulge in a little buccaneering on my own account, hence lunch with Daphne. We reached my room undetected and I put the kettle on.

            My lack of progress with Miss Lashley has persuaded me that at eighty three I have neither the time nor the attention span to faff around with the niceties of wooing, or whatever they call it now. I also had my lunch investment of £12.30 (plus tip) to protect, plus the £3.50 outlay for the cinema, so I made my move even before the kettle had boiled, tentatively embracing Daphne as she stood gazing through my window.

            To my surprise, her response to my embrace was so positive that the passion of her kiss dislodged my upper denture at the very moment that I was gulping for air. The denture shot to the back of my throat, temporarily choking me, and Daphne, alarmed by the discovery of an unrestrained foreign body in my mouth, sprang away from me with a frightened cry and toppled backwards over my footstool.

            Our cries of distress attracted the attention of Polish Petra, one of the carers, who burst into my room followed by a furious Miss Lashley and a twittering gaggle of rubbernecking residents.

“Ohmygod, Granpa Georgie,” said Petra, as she surveyed the carnage, “you’ve really done it this time haven’t you?”

            I had

            The paramedics put Daphne in a surgical collar and carried her to the ambulance on a board. Although she had by now regained consciousness, she didn’t wish me goodbye, so I assumed that our brief relationship was at an end, as was my association with Miss Lashley. That’s another £15.80 (plus tip) down to experience, I suppose.

            Miss Starkey, the Happy Haven manager, now has me on 24 hour lockdown, only leaving my room for escorted toilet breaks.My case has been referred to the local council and social services, but they couldn't find anywhere else to take me after the last incident and I guess they won't have any better luck this time so Starkey is stuck with me, like it or not. I'll lay low for a while until the dust settles or at least until I get a better-fitting denture.