“Look after your Grandad, he’s getting on you know”, was the parting shot,
from our fiercesome Grandmother as we boarded the bus to Doncaster races.
So we did, we took him to the Wagon and Horses first,
for a glass or two of breakfast.
He won over eighty pounds playing nine-card don.
Back on the bus, he didn’t have to lift a finger,
or stand up to get to the beer crate.
In Doncaster his treble came up without him ever seeing a race , it was warm and cozy in the beer tent.
573 pounds, a years pay, in those days.
We celebrated with a curry, after the Wagon and Horses threw us out.
Later with the Taxi revving up, ready for a quick getaway,
the old man sitting comfortably on the step,
we rang the door bell and ran.
The last we saw, as the car turned the corner,
was the door opening and Grandad falling inside.
It was several weeks before he was allowed to play-out again!