Curiouser and curiouser

Last weekend we saw an elderly friend of ours (another one from James but the same age) on Saturday afternoon. She had been away staying with cousins who had mentioned that she might be going into a residential home as she’s in her late 80s and it’s a hike into the shops and she can’t really manage, poor thing.

Anyway, we dropped by on Saturday and she made no mention of this and we fixed up to see her on Monday early evening. She said hello to Mollie, gave me a pat on the shoulder (unheard of) and waved us off with a big grin.

The next morning, being Sunday, we came back from walking Moll to find a message on the answerphone. It was very abrupt – she’s evidently one of those people who hate leaving messages on a machine – but said that she “wouldn’t be available for visitors on Monday as she was moving”.

And slightly more curiously, she said the message was for me when it’s Himself that always goes to see her. I played the message again and we both listened to it. And again.

Finally I said, “Why didn’t she say something yesterday when we saw her?’

Himself shook his head. “I’ve no idea,” he said, unhelpfully. “That’s her for you.”

And we’re still none the wiser. He didn’t want to go down there as she had said not to, and presumably she’s not there anyway. But we have no forwarding address so no way of contacting her.

What would you do?

By the way, Shelagh, the new washing machine is arriving today - I hope!