Quiche of mind from dementia diagnosis

It’s not often we get to witness the early signs of dementia first-hand – especially when someone might not realise they’re succumbing to the disease – but this lunchtime was a sobering experience for me and staff in the local sandwich shop.

I do my best to bring a packed-lunch most days (I blame the Scottish genes inherited from my dad) but after a particularly lazy night, I thought I’d treat myself today to a good old panini from the deli in the centre of the village.

In between idle chit-chat with the waitress (Keira Knightley’s been in for the second time this week, I’m excitedly told …) an old man walks in, dressed in tweed and with a large green deer-stalker covering his greying hair. It’s cold outside and he looks blustered and weather-beaten. Well-known to the staff – it being a small Oxfordshire village – he asks if he’s been in today.

The staff look bemused.

Not only had he been in, he’d also purchased a quiche and salad barely five minutes before I appeared.

He looks bewildered; the staff concerned. They ask if he’s alright: “I’m fine,” he counters before walking off – oblivious to the confusion – and still holding the quiche and salad he’d bought previously.

There’s a moment of stunned silence. “He’s not alright, is he?” says one of the waitresses. Worried looks pass between them. Of course it could be just forgetfulness – but their concerned faces paint a very different picture.

Friendly banter melts into subdued silence, and I’m left with my own thoughts which, oddly, have nothing to do with a potential encounter with the lovely Miss Knightley.