In a World Gone Mad: Tuesday 26 May 2020...2

The Ellie Saga. Yesterday we had a celebrity in town—a racist bigot with hero status.  Tommy Robinson heard about Ellie’s case and arranged a Rally to incite hatred—as if the town needs it— against the Asian restaurant owners. Word flew around the dark web that he was coming—and I think it was well publicised on the light one as well.

 It said on social media that the police were waiting for him outside town and got him—but he still made the rally. How? Another question that I don’t have the answer to.

The town rallied for the rally—the rendezvous was Hollywood Park where a lot of the big stores are. Literally hundreds of people turned up on the carpark. The main road through town was bumper to bumper with all the cars beeping their horns. I’ve seen the photos of people standing shoulder to shoulder, hugging and partying. They were chanting their hatred and some hastily prepared slogans and songs have been made up for the occasion—none of them that any decent human being would want their children singing.

 And He, The Great White Guru was shaking hands with his people.

What the fuck’s it got to do with him?

He came in support of Ellie—like hell. He came to spread hatred and vitriol and to shine the spotlight on him. It was a shameless self-promotion stunt.

To Ellie’s relative’s credit they put out a statement distancing themselves. They said they wanted no part of it. That they don’t hate any race of people and that Tommy Robinson coming was nothing to do with them. They urged people to stay home and stay safe. Which goes to show how much support the town really gives, because their plea was ignored by hundreds.

You can’t quarantine stupid. Oh well, natural selection, in two weeks there’ll be a few less racists and thick people in the town.

Ellie’s story is horrific. The people that hurt her need to be caught, prosecuted, and punished—properly. Give the bastards life and let it be life.

But in the meantime, the police need to do something, and they need to do it now.  People are angry. Some of them don’t want justice, they want revenge. They are already gathering and mobbing. I think by the end of this week people are going to get hurt.  That’s wrong, these people need to be dealt with properly.

Would I feel that way if it was my daughter?—Would I hell. I’d be leading the mob. So, all power to Ellie’s family, for their dignity and calming attitude. For their request for a none violent end to the situation, and for their belief in a system that is rotten.

On a lighter and happier note, Scott and Kila came to see us on Sunday. I was surprised because they are solid and sensible and by far the most stable members of the family. They sat in the garden for about an hour. Scott kept nudging Kila, I saw him do it four times. I was a tiny bit offended, not much but a little because although I understood it, I thought he couldn’t wait to get away fast enough and the nudging happened within five minutes of them sitting down.

They always go away with four friends to a rented cottage for Christmas, they are a gang of six and call themselves The Fire-siders. We were talking about Christmas—what already, what the hell.

Kila said, ‘Well I don’t know if it’ll come off this year.’ She was so matter of fact.

Max said that it would be great if they could come to us.

‘I don’t know we’re going to be busy on or around Boxing Day.’

Kila’s always busy. The fire-siders are inseparable. They socialise and go on holiday about six times a year. She’s a career woman and eats, sleeps, and breathes work. And she’s involved in local panto which takes up several of her evenings a week. She runs every night. They entertain a lot. She’s always on the go.

Her busy schedule has been a bone of contention for Scott for a few years, even he doesn’t get to see her enough. Max and Kila used to be very close and he classed Scott as his best friend for a long time. Max moved in with them for a couple of months when his marriage broke down—and we know first-hand what it’s like having Dad living with you—it soured the relationship and they don’t have a lot of time for him. I don’t think they’re very fond of me, though nothing has been said and they are always lovely to me, so that could well be paranoia on my part.

‘Yeah, there’s going to be more of us this year.’

She was so deadpan that we still didn’t get it. It came out of nowhere and floored us.

‘I’m nine weeks pregnant.’

We didn’t congratulate them. We sat stunned and said nothing.

Kila is career to the hilt. She’s thirty-five and Max gave up on her having children when she turned thirty and nothing happened. She’s Head of Sales for one of the major car dealerships and her work is her world.

We were all waiting for the punchline and I think I was the first one to get it.

‘Max, put that cigarette out.’

I’m going to be a nana again. This is grandchild number eight. I have six of my own and two of Max’s.

We are absolutely delighted and couldn’t be happier for them. I think they’ll make excellent parents and six months from now, I bet Kila won’t give a damn about her career. Scott has wanted children for years—but Kila has always held back. This is the best news and could be just the bridge Max needs to get close to his eldest daughter and son-in-law again. Scott owns a print and design business that does very well. They have more money than they know what to do with and the baby will have parents that dote on it. It’s fantastic news. She’s due on Boxing Day and they have a girl’s name picked but won’t tell yet.

We had a wonderful ‘Lassie’ moment the other night. We were in bed and Teagan ran in and put her freezing cold nose on my bare bum. She was crying and nudging me. She was too distressed for it to be as simple as needing the toilet. I tried to calm her, but she wouldn’t settle and kept wining and pawing at me. I told her to go to her bed. She did but grunted her displeasure. Two minutes later she got up and went to the door crying and pawing at it. Me, drama queen, thought there was something awful wrong with her. She wouldn’t come away from the door and scratched at it still crying. I thought she was either about to die, throw up everywhere or have the wilde shites all over the bedroom.

I got my dressing gown and the second I opened the door, she shot down the stairs and came straight back up  to put her nose in my hand. I followed her into the kitchen  to find the cat’s window closed and him on the sill crying to come in. The dog and cat are best mates and Teagan was upset because her buddy was locked out.

How clever is she? She’s cleverer than Skippy, the bush kangaroo.