I nod. The police officer is my great-granddaughter’s age. I can’t reveal how I got the facial bruises or the awful marks on my legs.
Being my age and having dementia should mean I won’t have to explain how Fred ended up with a knife in his back.
It should be written off as a tragic accident. He tripped and, as he fell, knocked the knife off the worktop.
Hmm… even I’m not convinced. Best to say I can’t remember.
At least I don’t have to put up with Fred now.