at the word saucer. If Evelyn weren’t wishing to fool her, she would say it was a common noun, of course. That would stump her. She probably doesn’t know the difference between common and proper nouns. She probably wants her to say crockery or china, but instead, Evelyn says, ‘Are we going to have tea soon?’
The woman doesn’t smile. She points again: ‘And this one?’ The word dominoes is indicated. Evelyn shakes her head. Then the woman moves on to the other words and with each one, Evelyn gives a confusing answer. Then the assessor says, ‘I’ll give you a clue. Which one of these is a game?’
Evelyn wants to laugh, but takes a breath to help her keep a straight face. But this is the game. This is a wonderful game. I’ve been playing it for weeks and it seems that I might be winning. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she says. And so it continues with all four words. Evelyn guesses that the word postcard is a fence and the word school is where to see the doctor, and pretends she has no idea what to do with the saucer.
Then the woman says she is going to ask Evelyn to remember these words in a few minutes and turns the cards face down on the table. Evelyn strains to prevent her laughter. She often plays patience and pairs in her room with an entire pack of playing cards, so four is hardly challenging.
She is then asked to spell world backwards. Evelyn’s spelling has always been excellent and is sharpened with her daily crosswords, but she manages to stumble and mutter, ‘D-O-L?’
‘And could you count backwards from twenty for me, please?’
Again, Evelyn bites her lip and maintains her composure, then jumps from twenty to twelve to ten and five. This is going rather well. They must be convinced by now that her mental powers are diminished.
So when the woman asks her to recall the words that were printed on the cards, she enjoys staring blankly and saying, ‘What cards?’ She can hear Pat sighing in the background, which is rather irritating. I’d like to see what her memory is like at ninety-five. Pathetic, I bet, with the amount of alcohol she drinks all the time at home. I know she does, I can see it in her mottled complexion; nothing like as good as mine at her age.
And she takes note of the look that is shared between all three members of her audience and knows that she has given an award-winning performance. She must have got the part by now: the Demented Duchess, the Mad Marchioness. The assessor is scribbling on her forms and the doctor is nodding at Pat, who is shaking her head with a weary expression. Evelyn studies their faces. They should be applauding and asking me to take a bow. It isn’t easy pretending to be something you aren’t.
And then she decides to give them all something to liven up their morning. She stands up, levering herself into a standing position by pushing her hands down on the table, then sweeps away the cards, scattering them all over the dark patterned carpet. ‘I can’t stay here all day, I’m going home now,’ she says. ‘I’ve got a bus to catch.’
She turns, supporting herself with the back of the chair, and is about to sweep the water jug off the table as well when Pat catches her arm, rather too firmly, Evelyn thinks. ‘We’re not finished here yet,’ she says in a grim voice. ‘Sit down again.’
‘But you’re making me late for the coffee morning. I promised I’d be there to organise the beetle drive, I have to go now.’
‘No, Aunt, we’re staying here.’ Pat manoeuvres her back into her seat. ‘The doctor hasn’t finished talking to you.’
Evelyn decides her newly acquired role merits one last flourish. ‘You’re all dismissed,’ she says with an imperious wave of her hand, a gesture she had seen from Mama on many occasions when she was dissatisfied with the work of a cleaner or gardener. ‘I’m dismissing the lot of you. You’re wasting my time. I’m a very busy woman, you know.’
Pat glances apologetically at the two professionals, who are trying to complete their notes. ‘Maybe I’ll just pop outside and see if someone can bring in a tray of coffee and biscuits. That usually keeps her quiet for a bit.’
‘I want fig rolls!’ shouts Evelyn. ‘You know how I like fig rolls. Don’t let them fob you off with