CASTING OFF

When the residents of a Highland care home receive letters informing them that the new owners are about to substantially increase fees, their quiet days of knitting, chatting and trips to the local garden centre are threatened. Three friends decide to band together to take action, but what can a group of elderly people do against a big organisation? SunshineonLeithmeetsThe Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, P.I. Paris’s Casting Off is a hilarious and poignant tale of friendship, loyalty and sacrifice… and saucy chat lines! Mr Ferguson was dead. Miss Ross could tell by the feet. They were sticking out of his bedroom door into the corridor alongwhichshehad been walking. One foot, partly covered by a thin, brown sock, was only slightly less repulsive than the other, which was bare and purple, with badly trimmed and not very clean toenails.

She acknowledged her diagnosis was hardly s c i e n t i f i c . Ev e n the pathologist in Lewis would have made a brief examination of the body before announcing the victim had been dead for so many hours and minutes. However, the feet looked so lifeless that, well, onereaches an age when you simply know these things.

With no desire to risk seeing o t h e r nake d , potentially purple bits of the old man, Miss Ross turned around and set off to find a memberof staff. Thiswasthe second resident to die in the last few weeks. Soon there would be two new faces in the dining room, staring around in surprise. (Wasn’t it only the other month that they were young?)

The deceased was removed discreetly by Mr Dunn, the local undertaker. Itwasa sad reflection of their lives that he visited more often than many families, a point not lost on Dorothy, who hadn’t seen her son for ever such a long time. The thing was, she never wanted to appear interfering and increasingly waited for Andrew to make contact, while he , in turn , increasingly did not. Everyone seemed so busy these days. Everyone, that is, except those living at We Care For You.

Dorothy felt they shouldn’t complain. You got on with the task ahead, regardless of what fate put in the way. They had had their lives. One had to make room for new generations and as people got older they needed less and less room until... there was Mr Dunn.

Of course, this latest departure was the main topic of conversation over lunch. Being the third Tuesday in the month, this was boeuf bourguignon, a description that initially put off several people until they realised it meant meat stew. The cook, broughtin recently by the new owners, knew a great deal more about food than she did about elderly folk.

‘Poor Mr Ferguson,’ said Dorothy. ‘Coming upon his body like that must have been a terrible shock, Miss Ross.’

‘I knew he was dead as soon as I saw his sole.’

‘My goodness, you saw his soul! What did it look like?’

‘Not very pleasant... purple and a bit fluffy.’ ‘Purple?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, I never. And a fluffy?’

‘Someone needs to show thatnewcleanerhowto usea Hoover properly.’ ‘The cleaner...?’ ‘She’s from Poland.’ ‘ Oh... don’t they have Hoovers?’

‘You would hope so, but she needs to be shown how we u s e one in Great Britain.’ ‘Mmm... I see.’ I t was obvious that Dorothy didn’t see. She could beexasperatinglyslowonthe uptake on occasions. There was no hint of dementia or that sort of thing, not like some in the care home who displayed significantly more than a hint. No, what lay bit... behind those large NHS glasses with their red-tinged frames was more of an . . . innocence.

She could have been an exhibit, plucked straight out of one of the museums of ‘bygone days’ that seem to have sprung up in even the smallest towns. Magically brought to life in her long Aline skirt, blouse and handknitted cardigan, Dorothy was a living reminder of an era long gone when things were so much simpler and wholesome.

It was partly why there was something so very appealing about her.

YL has five copies of the book to give away to the first readers who e-mail yourlife@ajl.co.uk P. I. Paris is an author, playwright and journalist who lives in Tain. He is perhaps best known for the historical fiction and non-fiction books he has written about the Italian Chapel, built during WWII by Italian POWs in Orkney. Casting Off began as a theatre production, playing to sell-out audiences in the autumn of 2015. The hilarious storyline is taken to new heights in this latest novel by the same name. The p l a y was performed in the Highlands as part o f Luminate: Scotland’s creative ageing festival in 2015. We meet 10-year-old Phiona Mutesi (Madina Nalwanga) in Kampala’s streets in 2007, where she sells maize with her brother Brian (Martin Kabanza). They keep a roof over the heads of their single mother Nakku Harriet (Lupita Nyong’o), sister Night (Taryn Kay Kyaze) and younger brother Richard (Ivan Jacobo). Robert Katende (David Oyelowo) heads a missionary program which supplies porridge to children as they learn to play chess. Phiona has a natural aptitude for the game and outmanoeuvres everyone. At the annual Trollstice, ogres called Bergens feast on shiny trolls. King Gristle Sr (voiced by John Cleese) and his head Chef (Christine Baranski) lead the festivities but the trolls manage to escape. Twenty years later the chef discovers their village and captures several of them, including zen master Creek (Russell Brand) and Biggie (James Corden). Joiner Daniel Blake has to spend 35 hours a week applying for jobs he can’t take because he suffered a heart attack. He meets single mother Katie (Hayley Squires) and her children, Dylan (Dylan McKiernan) and Daisy (Briana Shann), who have been moved from London into council accommodation in Newcastle. Daniel becomes a fatherly figure to Katie, but cruel fate intervenes and they are forced to make terrible choices to keep their heads above water.