It’s Monday morning, and I should be at work. Instead I’m in a draper’s shop on the high street in Hythe, Kent, helping my 86-year-old grandma buy elastic. “Elastic bands?” the assistant asks. “No, knicker elastic,” Grandma says firmly. She tuts. “Mine’s getting all worn out.”
Ten minutes later we leave with the elastic in a paper bag, along with some shoulder pads, which Grandma intends to sew into a jacket. She will do this with the same ease she exhibits when replacing her knicker elastic. There’s no question of her buying new ones, as I would. “Nearly lunchtime,” Grandma says (it’s 10.30am). “I’ve made a lovely quiche.”
