Grandma Margot let out a long sigh, shook her head. "Principles," she breathed.

She pulled herself forward a little, but the wheelchair was caught on part of the tarp. "Help me here, will you?"

I went behind her, pushed the chair over the ruffled canvas. She hauled open the offside rear door and looked into the dull interior. A smell of musty leather wafted out, reminding me of my childhood and the time when there was still magic in the world.

The last time I had sex was on that back seat," she said wistfully. She looked up at me. "Don't look so shocked, Prentice."

"I wasn't — " I started to protest.

"It's all right; it was your grandfather." She patted the wing of the car with one thin hand. "After a dance," she said quietly, smiling. She looked up at me again, her lined, delicate face amused, eyes glittering. "Prentice," she laughed. "You're blushing!"

"Sorry, gran," I said. "It's just… well, you don't… well, when you're young and somebody's…»

"Past it," she said, and slammed the door shut; dust duly danced. "Well, we're all young once, Prentice, and those that are lucky get to be old." She pushed the wheelchair back, over the toe of my new trainers. I lifted the chair clear and helped complete the manoeuvre, then pushed her to the door. I left her there while I put the tarpaulin back over the car.

"In fact some of us get to be young twice," she said from the doorway. "When we go senile: toothless, incontinent, babbling like a baby… " Her voice trailed off.

"Grandma, please."

"Och, stop being so sensitive, Prentice; it isn't much fun getting old. One of the few pleasures that do come your way is to speak your mind… Certainly annoying your relatives is enjoyable too, but I expected better of you."