OLIVE

Blimey, I need this!

Olive was the name of my mother-in-law who lived with us for ten years. When she moved in there were C and me, two grown-up daughters, four cats and Olive in a fairly compact house - although the girls moved out the first chance possible when they were able to. I worked from home in an upstairs office, then as now, so I was her carer when she needed it. All strangers and new acquaintances thought she was a sweet and delightful little old lady when in fact she was a malevolent old bat who lived on spite, emotional blackmail and custard tarts wasn't. But she did make us laugh sometimes (in retrospect). I was checking proofs in my office with a customer once when the phone rang and Olive answered it. She told me that the caller had been some posh woman and she'd told her I was busy. When I dialled 1471 it was one of my sisters (whom Olive knew perfectly well) who said "I think you'd better have a word with Olive about how she answers the phone". Olive had told her that I'd just taken a man upstairs and I'd be finished in about ten minutes if she wanted to call back. I made sure I always answered the phone after that.