Fish on Fridays

Nora once told me that Friday's lunch was the her favourite part of the week. I hadn't thought of it that way, but I guess it was like a party - my kids loved Fridays because dinner was leftover Fish and Chips - Nora, Marlene, and the others, loved it because there was wine.

Marlene is well... how to describe Marlene... she is unfailingly polite, as if eternally grateful that we're working here. Like Nora, she is a chainsmoker, and she doesn't always seem to be "all there". She almost looks like a caricature of herself: round circles of red rouge on either cheek, bright red lipstick, lashings of blue eyeshadow and permed hair. Marlene is up and out of the village every morning after breakfast. Where, I hadn't a clue, but it was her daily routine, and she was never present for lunch - except on Fridays. Every Friday was Fish and Chips. There was only one resident who turned it down. (It was Dawn, the round lady with her chin permanently on her chest, and she always had a slice of Thursday's left-over meatloaf instead. Shudder.)

It was one glass per resident, which we poured in advance and took in trays to the dining rooms. It wasn't usually my job to serve Marlene's dining room, but one day there was a new girl and I grudgingly agreed not to send the poor lamb to the slaughter make her job difficult by subjecting her to Barrett and the Royale. So we swapped.

I had only just given out the wine in the Barrett dining room when Marlene asked for another. This was new to me... but why not, so I went back to the kitchen to get more. It was only after finishing dessert that I overheard another resident also giving her glass of wine to Marlene. Oh, dear. This was not going to be good - she sometimes reminds me of a miniature Hunchback of Notre Dame who shuffles along unsteadily, grinning from clown makeup.

I spoke to Maria about it, who agreed that while they were adults, we kinda had a responsibility not to get them sloshed on a Friday afternoon. Maria, in turn, asked the residents not to hand their wine around to each other. Problem solved, right? Wrong.

The following Friday I turned down Marlene's request for more wine, using the porky pie that we'd been told we weren't allowed. She looked utterly crestfallen. But it turned out she had planned in advance anyway! Sweet Bette, who wasn't a drinker, had today asked for a glass - which she handed to Marlene later. (It's not like she'd have remembered not to, anyway.) Several other residents were only too happy to also give theirs to Marlene. As far as we can guess, she managed to get four glasses down in less than half an hour.

Maria found her sprawled in a Barrett hallway, with her skirt hiked all the way up, wearing red high heels and stockings with suspenders, and giggling non stop.

Bette's selections

Bette is an absolute dear. When I first saw her, I kinda inwardly stepped back. She has a funny look about her that makes you think she is perpetually annoyed. But the second she begins to speak, she is just a beautiful person. Very easygoing and a real mouse, she sits with the loudmouth of Barrett. (Another great person, but I'll save Pearl for another day.)

One lunchtime I was wandering around with the order sheet and pencil, ticking off what they each wanted for dinner. I asked Bette if she would like spaghetti bolognese or a toasted sandwich. I expected her to simply choose a toasted sandwich, as she has one almost every night. But she looked at Pearl beside her in confusion, and asked, "What do I usually have?"

Pearl rolled her eyes. "Bette, you always have the sandwich, but if you want the spaghetti, have the spaghetti."

Poor Bette looked absolutely stumped, as if the decision were just too much for her to deal with. She looked as though I'd asked her to construct a dodecahedron using only popsicle sticks and string. I was wondering why she just couldn't work out whether she liked spaghetti. Finally, I suggested she have the spaghetti as a bit of a change. She smiled at me as if I were Santa Claus.

I put the list away, finished handing out the lunchtime dessert, and came around with the tea and coffee pots. When I got to Bette, I asked her if she would prefer tea or coffee.

She paused thoughtfully, then turned to Pearl and asked, "What do I usually have?"