At the age of ninety-something, Beryl Dusinbery is forgetting everything - including her own children. Her tongue, meanwhile, remains as sharp as ever. She spends her days stitching macabre messages into her needlework and tormenting her two long-suffering carers with tangled stories of her love affairs. Shimi Carmelli can do up his own buttons, get around without the aid of a walking frame, and speak without spitting. Among the widows of North London, he's whispered about as the last of the eligible bachelors. Unlike Beryl, he forgets nothing - especially not the shame of a childhood incident that has hung over him ever since. There's very little life remaining for either of them, but perhaps just enough to heal some of the hurt inflicted along the way and find new meaning in what's left. Could this be their chance to live a little?