Dunlivin' Retirement Home

Bob sat alone and hungry, it was already 9 O’clock and still there was no sign of breakfast, though the empty bowl on the table next to him suggested that it had already been and gone. At 88, Bob was one of the youngest residents at the Dunlivin’ Retirement Home in Lincoln. Robert William Smith had only been here a few months but already felt very settled, but was wondering if he’d ever find love again since losing Ethel 2 years previously in a woefully ill advised charity bungee jump.

Old eyes shut in what felt like a blink, but when they opened again they opened to a vision. In the chair next to Bob was an absolute stunner, he couldn’t believe his luck. “Hello young lady,” Bob’s eager & loud opening gambit being heard by most of the staff in the building but no body else. “I say Hello young lady!” the shout accompanied by a prod on her shoulder did the trick. A shrill whistle sounded as a deft turn of a hearing aid switch kicked it into life.

“Hello?” She sounded unsure as to who had spoken first.
“Hello young lady – are you here to visit your Mum?” Bob still had it, he’d been quite smooth in his day, 15 years in the Navy had taught him a lot of good lines, but luckily he’d forgotten those and relied on the ones he’d learnt since he’d left nowadays instead.

“ Oh you are a one! I’m not here visiting, I live here – It’s really nice, they do a lovely breakfast, have you had the breakfast? I wonder what the breakfast is like? I’m Mavis there’s nothing wrong with me!”

“Oh Mavis – what a lovely name, I used to have a dog called Tinker you know, you look beautiful in that dressing gown, I wonder – would you like to join me for Bingo after lunch?”

“Smashing!”

With this Mavis fell asleep and dreamt of being swept off her feet by a debonair ex military bingo caller.

The rush of excitement was buzzing in Bob’s room as he put on his best blazer and gave his medal a final polish. He looked into the mirror and tried to remember the last time he’d felt like this, then he tried to remember when he’d last had a cup of tea. Once his teeth were nice and clean and fresh he put them back in and set off at full pace down the corridor, his Zimmer frame a blur.

He settled into some fine small talk as they waited for the game to start. The circle of chairs set around the edge of the room were worn and smelled of Detol but that didn’t matter. The sexual tension increased as Bob enthralled Mavis with his daring exploits as a Naval Diver and of the time he met the Queen. Mavis in return talked extensively about when she was a ‘Land Girl’ working on the farms Mostly they spoke at the same time as each other but this didn’t stop the interest levels rising.

Bob tried his hardest to look manly as he crossed off numbers on his sheet, he couldn’t really hear the numbers being shouted out and so had to keep having sneaky looks at Maureen’s sheet on his left and then copying hers. Meanwhile what was Mavis doing? Was that flirting? Mavis kept sucking her big fat marker pen between shouts, occasionally looking over and smiling. Bob has been out of the game for a long time but he felt sure he remembered what that body language meant! When Joan won the house ( as usual) they didn’t care – they barely even noticed, the only two people in the room who didn’t. Joan’s amazing ability to win every game had been quite a talking point. Most people still held the belief that Joan had been sleeping with young Derek the bingo caller.

The evening meal was a blur, Bob had said that it would be an honour if Mavis would join him for a roast and after he’d carefully re-worded the request she had agreed. During the meal they shouted sweet nothings to each other occasionally stopping to chew something. In no time at all Bob was walking Mavis to her room; her wheelchair easily replacing his walking frame. At the door there was an uncomfortable silence until Mavis finally in low sexy tones looked our man in the eye and made her move. “I suppose you’ll have to come in then?” she seductively asked.

The sex was passionate but quick, so quick in fact that technically only one of them had it, but this did not matter. In no time at all Mavis was pulling on that sexy dressing gown that had so caught Bob’s attention all those hours ago and telling him to leave. Mavis was way past the age where she needed to be losing good sleep to some man snoring in her bed. They both stood and smiled and said how they couldn’t wait for the next day to arrive so they could see each other again.

The next day Bob sat alone and hungry, it was already 9 O’clock and still there was no sign of breakfast, though the empty bowl on the table next to him suggested that it had already been and gone. At 88, Bob was one of the youngest residents at the Dunlivin’ Retirement Home in Lincoln. Robert William Smith had only been here a few months but already felt very settled, but was wondering if he’d ever find love again since losing Ethel 2 years previously in a woefully ill advised charity bungee jump…