'Lucy Letby made my blood boil - if I was a mum in court I'd have gone for her'
The news can sometimes be so bleak there is the temptation to turn it off – but I always keep up with it in this newspaper, on the telly and wireless, just as my parents did.
The story of Lucy Letby depriving tiny, helpless babies of their lives in a hospital just 12 miles from me sent my blood pressure soaring and hot tears running. And refusing to attend court to receive her life sentence was her final despicable act. I don’t believe in capital punishment and despise the very thought of violence. But had I been one of the bereaved parents as she stood before me in court, I would have gone for her.
If someone hurts your child, the pain cuts deeper than any other. It’s unbearable, unimaginable. So when it comes to anyone harming the people you love more than life, I believe it’s an eye for an eye. Letby’s mum said, ‘I did it. Take me instead’, when her daughter was arrested for the final time. That’s how deep the love for a child runs.
But if a child of mine had ever committed such horrendous crimes, my love for them would reach its limit. And I would say: “You deserve this life sentence.” My mum attended Chester Races in April 1966 when Moors Murderer Myra Hindley was tried at Chester crown court, just across the road.
Moment Letby was finally nailed (Cheshire Police)She saw Hindley being driven in to court and women outside hammering their fists on the side of the police van. She never forgot it because she had never seen such raw anger. I thought of those women as I cried over Letby’s crimes and I shared their boiling fury.
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After the hip op, it just got worse
You will never guess what? I need a new knee. Years of over-using my left leg to ease the pain of the right hip has smashed it up. The physiotherapist checking on my hip knew by the way I leaned heavily on her arm that something was up. And as I was at the hospital, my hip surgeon Mr Philips was nearby to confirm that my knee was so damaged I was walking bone on bone.
Another op is on the cards but you won’t hear me complain. I know I’m lucky to have legs and the soldiers who came back from Afghanistan without theirs would gladly swap with me. Janet took me to the hospital armed with giant tubs of sweets for the fantastic NHS staff who looked after me so well. There was nurse Struthie, who radiated warmth, and her colleague who I nicknamed Cocker because she greeted all with, ‘Hello Cocker’.
Funnily enough, each one we saw said how quiet the wards had been since I was discharged. Just as we were leaving, a little train carrying all the plates from lunch trundled down the corridor and who was driving it? Only Chris May, the porter who used his own car to save us getting soaked in the rain. It was great to tell him how much it had meant to me. Seeing those kind people to thank them properly left me, even with a crumbled old knee, walking on air.
Getting shirty over Mary
I have to admit something shameful: it has taken me far too long to watch and love women’s football. I can’t explain why I’m a late adopter. Maybe it’s because I watch so much of the men’s game and know it so well, I felt like an outsider watching women. But England’s Lionesses have changed all that. Each player was exceptional in Sunday’s World Cup final and I’m a new, but true fan.
Mary saves penalty (Getty Images)Now I need to buy a Mary Earps’ goalie top. I want to teach naughty Nike a lesson because, unlike Mary, they were too slow off the mark to make her replica kits. They deserve a backlash for underestimating the talent she has and the passion of those who support FIFA’s Golden Glove Award winner, not least after her superb penalty save. I’m a funny shape – I have a shelf at the back and thin but short, uneven legs. Yet I am determined to squeeze into a Mary Earps kit. One question: Will the shorts accommodate my TENA Ladies? If not, I’ll be writing to Nike.
Card machines are not so smart
In this new age when everyone is talking about inclusion and diversity, why doesn’t anyone realise – or care – that we oldies don’t take to technology? Out for tea with my granddaughter Caitlin, the waiter shoved a card machine in my face as we finished. When I said, “I’ll pay cash, thanks very much”, you would think I had just told him I wanted to strip naked and table dance. I’m of the age when I still get a paper bank statement and check it each month so I know where I am.
New tech not for us oldies (PA)I’m not ready to give up the old-fashioned honesty of cash – online banking is not for me. So if you stick a ‘QPR’ code on my menu or ask me to check stock online when I’m standing there in a shop, I’m far less likely to spend my cash with you.
Penguins will be special for our p-p-picnic
I’m as excited as a child about a trip to Chester Zoo with my friends Sheila and Sue. I’m genuinely giddy about bringing a picnic and, though my friends insist on organising it, I’ll bring extra sausage rolls and sandwiches in case they forget I’m greedy and eat four butties rather than just one.
Chester Zoo stars (Julian Hamilton/Daily Mirror)I cannot wait to see the penguins waddling and giraffes fluttering their long eyelashes. My favourites are the elephants. I’ll probably cry when I see them. There is a lot of ground to cover so we’re hiring a motorised scooter for Sue but everyone agreed I should stick to a wheelchair. I don’t drive, I don’t know how to brake or reverse – but I do know I would press the wrong button and end up in the lions’ pen…
* My new hip means I’m gradually crossing things off the long wishlist I made while stuck indoors for so long. This week, Janet and I had a pub lunch of fish, chips and mushy peas. It is these small things that keep me happy.
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