The Dagger

The Dagger

The Inspiration for The Dagger

Who knows best? How things change as we age; first we are children, then become adults often with children of our own, our parents often still feel responsible for us. Then our parents age and gradually the tables turn and we begin to feel the need to look after our parents’ well-being. But is that what they want? Don’t they still feel the same as they always did, but maybe a little slower, or sometimes a little more confused as the the world seems to progress without them?

The Dagger explores these issues from the point of view of the widow, Mrs Garrett who is about to experience the most dis-empowering moment of her life..

“I couldn’t help shedding a tear when I got to the end of The Dagger.

I really enjoyed it.” MP

Extract from The Dagger

‘Where are we going?’ she asked as he wheeled her up the ramp into the big white van. She was sure he had said, but couldn’t remember. In fact she had a nasty, niggling thought at the back of her mind that she shouldn’t have opened the door at all to this stranger. But he was such a pleasant man. The people her daughter Deirdre had warned her about weren’t kind and helpful like this man. She would know if he had bad intentions. Thoughts of Deirdre continued long after the nice man had pushed Mrs Garrett up the ramp and strapped her safely in the back. As the vehicle manoeuvred into the morning traffic, she struggled to remember the last big disagreement she had had with her daughter. It hadn’t been long ago, she was sure, but all she could remember was that Deirdre had no faith in her mother’s ability to look after herself any more. Mrs Garrett knew that she wasn’t as fit as she used to be, but was perfectly capable of making her own breakfast and a sandwich for tea. Perhaps she hadn’t explained to Deirdre about the smiley lady who came with a hot meal for her each lunchtime. Yes, that was it; she must phone her later and explain. It was insulting to say the least when the very person you had spent the best years of your life bringing up, then makes you feel like a worthless pile of dirty laundry just because your legs aren’t what they used to be.

But Mrs Garrett was proud of her daughter. Not only did Deirdre raise three children of her own, but also ran her own company – and very successfully too; although what exactly the business was, she couldn’t remember now. Yes, Deirdre was a good girl, just slightly intimidating these days. And Peter, well, she couldn’t even remember the last time she had seen her son. Lovely, bright and funny Peter – everybody loved him. Mrs Garrett tried to imagine his face, but it wouldn’t quite come, but she knew he lived in Spain. Or was it Portugal? Somewhere nice and warm anyway, but sadly it was so far away that she hardly ever saw him anymore. . Perhaps she could arrange a holiday and go and visit him – she’d ask Deirdre next time she visited to arrange it for her......