Boxing Day arrived and Gerry thought he'd be spending it and all eternity in a box. A quick phone call later and he was on his way back into hospital with his ticking ticker ticking like a time-bomb.
I saw him the next day.
Strange, I thought, most of his pills are girly pink.
Stranger still were these books that he was, apparently, reading. Rather a girly selection I thought to myself.
Then I saw the name over his bed; the penny dropped, the person in the bed looked like Gerry, talked like Gerry, but all the evidence said MILDRED!
I wasn't worried about him before, but I'm truly scared for her now.
: )
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