Bert and Edna

As I stepped in through the back door I was transported back some 60 years. Bert and Edna lived in a mid terrace and probably had lived here all their lives. The back room was where they spent most of the time. A coal fire glowed with last nights embers, an airer warmed their under clothes and I listened as Bert told me his story. He called his wife "Mum" and she smiled as she called him "Dad". Sweet, must be a northern thing. He had a chest infection, anti biotics hadn't helped. I tried to get him seen by the local minor injuries unit but was fobbed off by both the doctor and a nurse because of his low 90's sats. It meant a 25 mile trip to the next hospital as getting  an OOH at this hour was like finding a pile of rocking horse shit. 

I arranged for a crew to transport as I nebbed him, completed the paperwork and caught them occasionally catching each other's eye giving an unspoken reassurance. 

I wanted to remember Bert and Edna because pretty soon couples and houses like this won't exist. They will become distant memories of a past replaced by a uncertain future.