Cindy made all the arrangements. She managed to borrow a wheelchair from a friend of a friend, whose father had recently died. And her friend Sue was happy to lend Cindy her car for the day.

On the Saturday night, Cindy went clubbing with a group of her old friends, but she came home early. Somehow it didn't seem as much fun as before. In fact, the crowds, loud music and silly, shouted conversations made her feel a bit ill.

***

'Happy Birthday, Gran,' she said as she took Sarah her cup of tea the next morning.

'What? What are you talking about?' said Sarah.

'Today is your birthday, Gran,' said Cindy. 'You're eighty years old today.'

'Am I? Who told you that?'

'Gran, I'm taking you to Brighton for the day. We're going to the seaside. Do you remember Brighton?'

Sarah seemed confused, but at the word 'seaside' something seemed to connect. She began singing in a high, shaky voice,

'Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside

Oh! I do like to be beside the sea!

I do like to stroll along the prom, prom, prom

Where the brass bands play: "Tiddely-om-pom-pom!"'

Her voice faded away as her memory failed to find the words to complete the old music-hall song.

"That's right, Gran. The seaside. That's where we're going. I bet you know all sorts of other songs too.'

'I wouldn't be surprised,' said Sarah. 'But I'm not saying I do, and I'm not saying I don't. Because they'll ask me questions if I do.'

'Oh, will they?' said Cindy.

'But do I have to meet anyone special today?'

'No, Gran. No-one special. You're the special person for today. It's your birthday.'

'Where's my hat?' asked Sarah all of a sudden.

'What hat?'

'My hat. I can't go to the seaside without a hat, can I?'

'I suppose not. I'll look in the wardrobe,' said Cindy.

Eventually, she found an old straw hat with plastic fruit on it.

'Here you are, Gran,' she said, and put it gently on Sarah's head. Sarah reached up immediately and changed the angle of the hat. Now she looked like one of those silent film actors from the 1920s.

'What about that then, eh?' she asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. Again she broke into song in her strange, high voice,

'Where did you get that hat?

Where did you get that tile?

Isn't it a nobby one?

And just the proper style.

I should like to have one

Just the same as that.

Where'er I go, they shout "Hello"