“Dad has a girlfriend,” Mum told me over the phone, then said her name with venom. “Gerri Jones.”
Grand Jack has always been a good-looking man, and for the entirety of their marriage, his late wife (Momo) had to whack other women away like bugs in a Super Mario game.
As a 90-year-old man with dementia, Mum thought that she wouldn’t have anything to worry about, but just last week Gerri was found in Grand Jack’s bed, and now the care home are having to keep the two on separate floors.
Last week I went to visit Grand Jack with Mum. As usual, he was in his tie, sweat vest and suit trousers. He’s the kind of generation who still believes that he should dress smart when women are about and will stand if a woman leaves the room. The care home is made up of around 95% of women, and so Grand Jack is in his Sunday best every day. His hip has also taken a battering from all the standing and sitting he’s been attempting since moving in.
“Are you married?” was the first question he asked me when we sat down for our cup of tea. This is normal, and will often be asked a few times per visit. It’s usually fine, but can feel particularly harsh after a break up.
“Sorry Grand Jack, still a no.”
He pulled a troubled face and said, “EEK.” Along with his traditional gentlemen ways, he also believes that if you’re a woman who is not married by 25 then you’re on the shelf. As I’m 32, I’m the equivalent to Wheezy the Penguin in Toy Story 2, who was covered in dust when found by Woody.
After talking about how he transported the atomic bomb (he didn’t), it was time for the afternoon entertainment. We walked him to the lift and on the way an old woman in a yellow cardigan gave a shakey waved. She had a broken up jigsaw puzzle on the table, and an empty arm chair in front of her.
“Jack,” she said in a trembling voice.
Grand Jack waved back sheepishly and muttered to us, “I was supposed to sit with her today…I think…hmmm…”
He stepped into the lift and the lady in the yellow cardigan slowly lowered her arm and looked down at the broken jigsaw.
The sound of a bagpipe filled the hallway of the second floor.
“What’s that noise?” Grand Jack asked, forgetting what we were doing. As we made our way towards the room, a woman came up the other way. She was a petite lady with a neat white bob and wearing a bright pink jumper.
“Oh, look who it is,” Mum said. From her tone, I knew that this was the infamous Gerri.
She danced up to Grand Jack. Then, like dropping off a child at nursery, Mum stepped away as Gerri took her dad’s hand and pulled him into the room.
We watched from the hallway as they settled down on the sofa and listened to the bagpipes together.
And that’s when I realised, my Grandad has a more successful dating life than me.
THE QUACK 