Blue Spanish Lies...

As the more observant of you might notice, this isn't Edinburgh - it's Spain, where my father lives with his current partner, Marisa.

Marisa is much younger than my dad - and she's determined to make him younger too. Five times a week, she makes him go to the gym for 3 hours; she's got him on a dairy free, meat free, alcohol free, gluten free (and as far as I can tell, fun free) regime and since I saw him last, he's dyed his hair a curious shade of caramel, had his teeth whitened, and (I'm almost sure) had botox...

The thing is, he doesn't look younger, he just looks plasticky and fake.....like an ancient action man doll with a hair weave.

Marisa, who's a personal trainer, doesn't approve of my job. "What ees the point of cake? " she asked me this morning. "Ees notheen but soogar an' fatty theengs. Djoo would look so much nicer eef djoo eat proper. Before I meet djoor papa, 'e was fat an' flab. Now, ees honk!"

I looked sideways at the 'hunk' and wondered how he was going to hide the cream horns, Kit-kats and Mars Bars he'd asked me to bring over for him.

It's going to be an interesting week....