Open Writing

'For heaven's sake, let's go,' I said, getting up from the bench.

'But he wants us to stay with him,' she said.

'How do you know? Have you asked him?'

'No, I can just tell. . . Anyway, I don't think he can hear.'

'I don't suppose he can speak, either, can he?' I muttered.

'No ... he keeps trying to but he can't get the words out.'

'Well, somebody else will have to look after him. This was supposed to be our day out together, wasn't it?'

'But I can't just leave him ... he reminds me of my grandfather.'

'Your what?'

'You heard.'

'God, you never told me you had a grandfather.'

'Why should I? You haven't told me about your grandfather.'

‘Two, actually.'

'You mean they're both still alive? Lucky you.'

'You must be joking . . . Anyway, how come we've been saddled with him?'

'We're not saddled with him ... He just came and sat down with us, didn't he? . . . It's just that I feel I can't leave him here alone in this park . . . Nobody else seems to care about him.'

'I'm not surprised . . . look at the state he's in.'

'Don't say that about my grandfather.'

'He's not your bloody grandfather!'

'Well, he's near enough . . . he's so like him in many ways . . . kind and quiet and gentle ...’

'Come off it,' I said, 'you've no idea what he's bloody like. He might have been a violent thug, for all you know . . . Probably served time in gaol for rape and armed robbery . . . Now let's get going, for Christ's sake.'

'Yes,' said the man, 'why don't you just bugger off, the pair of you?'