They talked about The Hydrangeas on TV because of the anonymous caller. On the France 3 regional news bulletin. The one Gramps never misses, watching it every evening with the volume as high as it can go.
A film crew turned up yesterday morning.
All the nurses had put make-up on, Jo and Maria had been to the hairdresser, and Madame Le Camus was wearing a fuchsia dress. But for our smocks, it could have been the Cannes film festival. Even the residents were looking their best. Madame Le Camus had asked us to “pay attention to their grooming.”
The female journalist selected two residents to interview, a man and a woman, Monsieur Vaillant and Madame Diondet. Which prompted some jealousy among the others: Why them and not us? Unlike Madame Diondet, Monsieur Vaillant isn’t a “victim.”
Before selecting them, the journalist checked they hadn’t lost too many of their marbles. Surname, first name, date and place of birth, number of children, and employment prior to retirement. Then she powdered their faces, necks and hands. Monsieur Vaillant couldn’t get over it. And all the others made gentle fun of him.
Next, the sound engineer hid a mike inside their clothing. They didn’t dare to move anymore; it was very funny.
The journalist began to ask them some questions. She asked them in a very loud voice and over-articulated.
I loathe people who speak to the elderly as if they were half-wits.
Then she “attempted to ascertain the psychological suffering inflicted on the residents by this anonymous caller.”
Monsieur Vaillant replied that he couldn’t care less, and that he wasn’t deaf.
Next, the journalist “tried to understand the harmful impact of the trauma on the families implicated.”
Madame Diondet, as a victim, replied that she felt pretty well, apart from a few pains in her legs.
Finally, all the residents were filmed side by side, and the film crew departed.
Monsieur Vaillant immediately asked me to get rid of his make-up. He let out horrified shrieks when I wiped cleanser over his face.
This evening, when it was time for the news bulletin, all the residents were in the TV room and had a good laugh when they saw themselves. Madame Diondet confided in me that she thought the TV had really aged her, that it was even crueler than the mirror in her bathroom.