"Who are you and how did you get in?" She asked, the questions sounding stupid seconds after they were past her lips. "I'm your best friend, silly. I'... Michael, and I got in using my key." He held up his key ring then put it in his pocket and sat down in an overstuffed chair beside the couch. "Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" She shook her head. "No, someone woke up in the wrong bed." Where to even start? A lot depended on who it was in that body. "I know who you are, it's who. ..” she smiled, then corrected herself as he flourished a pair of knickers from under his pillow. Glenis buttoned on a smart crisp yellow cotton shirt, no brassiere, and completed her ensemble with a pair of navy blue shorts and trainers. Then she packed a bag with her Bookers Cash and Carry uniform for later. She patted Cyril on the head and went through to Sybil, his seventy year old stricken wife’s room.Sybil Windebank had a bad case of Alzheimers. Sometimes she recognised her. More

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