Come Inside You Silly Beggar, Come Inside

If any Wench Venus's Girdle wear,
Though she be never so ugly;
Lilies and Roses will quickly appear,
And her Face look wond'rously smugly.The Beggar’s Opera, John Gay

Before starting my PGCE I worked for a year in a mental health unit for people with challenging behaviours. The residents had a considerable amount of freedom, although they mostly stayed in bed or sat in the smoke room.

I remember one day the senior manager storming in and shouting that in future, no resident should be still in bed after eleven am, and that she would be back the following day to check.

The following morning, from eight o’clock all of the staff were frantically trying to get the residents up early, but to no avail. I knocked on one door and shouted to Eileen, “come on, get up, the boss will be here soon.”

Quick as a flash, Eileen replied, “There’s plenty of time, she said we could stay in bed till eleven.”

Residents had little money beyond some meagre benefits and most of this went on cigarettes. Several of the women had another source.

Mabel was in her late fifties. She was mostly ungroomed and unwashed and usually smelled pretty awful. She was a long term resident who seemed to be always talking, using many profanities, to her voices. She had only two or three nicotine stained teeth and for all the world looked like the wicked witch from the Wizard of Oz film.

Years of medication had left here with tremors and a condition called tardive dyskinesia, which caused her to grimace, roll her tongue and make other bizarre facial and body movements.

Despite all these disadvantages, whenever Mabel was out of cigarettes she would make her way to the corner of the street and loiter there.

Without fail, she would be back twenty minutes or so later with money, cigarettes and a family sized fruit pie.