There are surely times, especially these days, when "care assistants" and even nursing staff wonder where they are - we kind of know that care of our elderly is in a bit of a mess, and vaguely wonder what awaits us if we eventually break a bone, become increasingly frail or begin to forget not merely what we came into the kitchen for, but whether we're in the right house or street.

Pressed for time, overburdened with the difficult, dying or downright devious, underpaid and all too frequently downright exploited, it's little wonder "the caring professions" have become an object of scorn among those too well paid, too smart or too alert ever to grow old. Eleanor Bennet arrives cheerfully with an incongruous shopping trolley and with a few handy props propels us through the daily lives of those we pay (pretty badly) to do our caring for us.

Bennet's characterisations, especially of a young recruit commenting shrewdly on the inanity of SVQ methodology, are delightfully shrewd observations of life in geriatric wards and homes. Bennet's sense of comedy and timing are very good, though at times one wonders if it couldn't be darker, although the cheerfulness which keeps breaking in is certainly needed. Old age is an oncoming reality most of us manage to ignore till our bus passes and pension book loom before us. Which is part of Bennet's point - that old people are still people; their fragility, rigidity or forgetfulness simply aspects of the person they continue to be. The diffident agonising of the caring relative will, in its time reveal itself in another way as she herself grows old.

Although lightly drawn, Bennet's main point is an important one, which she gets across as neatly and skilfully as one imagines she does in life.

Times: Aug 4-25, 16.15 (no show Aug 11 or 18)

Copyright Bill Dunlop August 2008

Published on EdinburghGuide.com August 2008