Mum loved Andrew Lloyd-Webber. To me, that was always disappointing. But then, Mum read The Daily Mail, so it wasn’t really a surprise.
‘You watch X-Factor,’ she’d said.
‘Completely different - that’s ironic.’
‘Everything is,’ she said. ‘With you.’
I think of Mum a lot here. When they play Puccini on the radio, O Mio Bambino Caro (Mum only knew it as a song from a film) I listen on the plastic headsets they give out on the ward. I try not to think about hospital-acquired infections.