‘Yes, she is a good daughter, mostly.’ Frank has a coughing fit. When he settles, I ask him more questions.
‘You thought she would be better with you then?’
‘That damned husband of hers got hisselph killed. She was just mopin’ back in the city. Needed to be back home where she could be more useful.’ His eyes harden.
‘But she was mourning him.’
‘So she said. She came back though. Talked to her brother, he suggested it really.’
‘But then she met David!’
‘Useless piece of crap. Caught ‘im, caught ‘im good.’ Franks eyes glisten. ‘Sleeping over, in her room. Can yer believe that?”
‘She is a grown woman,’ I tell him.
‘Huh! She may look grown, but she’s only seventeen. Now would I be a good father if I let that happen, and unde my own roof too.?’
The nurse comes into the room. ‘Now Frank, you telling tales again!’
She wheels him back to his own room.