Tuesday, 3 July 2012
I met the most wonderful couple from South Wales today.
When she claimed to be eighty he chastised her: "Get away," he said, "I'm eighty. You've got another 3 weeks to go yet."
"It's our diamond wedding later this year." she said.
I congratulated her but she told me not to be hasty, "I might dump him before we get there. He's a Midlander and I only married him cos no Welshman asked me."
All this was while we walked up to the Church. She, Mary Minty, is a historian. The Church wasn't on their agenda, just the Court. So when they had lunch with us I bullied them into going up there. She walked slowly on two sticks: "you'll never guess how I came to be on sticks," she said, "I did my back in in the gym." I asked if anything could be done? "Well," she said, "they've offered me an operation. But that would leave me doubly incontinent. And I want to keep that to look forward to for when I'm older."
We reached the Church and I opened the door.
Their mouths gaped. Properly.
Then she smiled.
Exactly like a child at Christmas.
And she hugged me.