My new wallet:
Is an old wallet and belongs to my friend Cad’s Nana. Nana looked like Rembrandt and like my grandmother was paranoid that tinkers were stealing the stones in her Waterford garden. Nana did other funny things that can be attributed to her being Irish: she called Thomas her grandson Toss, she wrote cheques for thousands of pounds and forgot to sign them- when questioned she would unzip her wallet and say ‘Here have a pound.’
Nana hated any kind of boozing and even on Christmas Eve stared at me as I quaffed a modest glass of sherry. No swearing unless it was blasphemy. Loathed the Pope, loved the Father. Mistrusted everyone apart from her daughter.
I keep finding new compartments: Greenshield stamps gummed to the inner wall and in the credit card space a Co-op voucher expiration date 1989.
A revolting piece of string that dangles from the zip-sticky with Nana. I cannot cut it off. The sherry eyes would look at me.
