1 She is made up of however many bones there are in a human skeleton & a badly crushed waxpaper mouth & skin as thin and baggy as an old T-shirt. She has two blue eyes. One is flesh&blood, the other handblown glass. 2 Names mean nothing to her anymore. She keeps her hands in her lap like two bald veinous animals. She is knackered through&through to her bone marrow from all the godawful hours of waiting. 3 I take her right hand and hold it. Your hands are cold, she says. I have bad circulation , I say. Her smile droops between its pegs. Cold hands, warm heart , she says. She peers at me with her live eye. Who are you? she says. 4 I am your granddaughter , I say. Hah , she says. What are you doing here? She waits. Her skin drags from her bones. I’ve come to visit you , I say. I’ve come all the way from South Africa to see you here. She frowns. She bloats her cheeks, blows. If you’ve come from South Afr...