When the Old Man and I were leaving his house one Saturday to go shopping at MegaGroce, he spent a few minutes chatting to an acquaintance who was passing. Neither the Old Man nor I know his name, but I should think he is aged 70 plus. He and the Old Man had not seen each other for a while.
When we returned from MegaGroce and Bert’s, we did not have the key-ring with the key to the Old Man’s front door.
I went to fetch the spare key from Mrs PM.
After lunch that Saturday, the Old Man and I went out again, to Cheerful Market, and we had three front-door keys cut.
On the Sunday, I gave one of the spare keys to Mr & Mrs CJ, who did not previously have a key to the Old Man’s house.
Mrs CJ told me that Mr CJ is 60, and she is 61.
On the Sunday, when I returned the spare front-door key to Mrs PM, she told me that she had recently had an operation to fit her second pacemaker.
Her son S has moved to Middletown. It takes him an hour and a half to drive from there to Peakville.
When I was about to drive off on the Sunday, the Old Man rushed out to stop me. He told me that he could not find his front-door key.
The key was in the lock, on the inside, but he had not seen it there. The key and the lock are of the same colour.
This false alarm gave me the opportunity to do something I had forgotten to do: to pour out some Lactulose for the Old Man, and get him to drink it.
[Original postings 17, 19, 20 & 23 November 2009]