Page 11 of One Moment in Time
If you’re reading this, then I’ve popped my clogs. I hope I was dancing when it happened and that my kicks were high and my shimmies ferocious.
You know that you girls are, and always will be, two of the greatest loves of my life. Anything that’s mine, is now yours – but the food blender under the sink is on its last legs, so you might want to ditch that.
I have a few requests, because you know, I always like to have the last word. My posh frock. The one I wore to meet Queenie. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned, so please keep it, use it if you can, but even if it hangs in your wardrobe forever, you’ll know I’m there with you.
I don’t have much in the way of jewellery, just my wedding ring and my pearl earrings and necklace. Those are all for your mum, but they’ll come to you next and I hope you’ll treasure them.
And finally, my loves, there’s a few grand in the bank. Not much to show for a lifetime of work, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, because money is for spending, not saving. All of it is yours, but you need to know that I will be so disappointed in you if you don’t use it in a way that honours me. So let me be clear – do not dare use it for anything sensible! Use it for fun. For adventure. For memories that you will cherish.
And, my angels, take care of your mum. My darling girl. I’ve a feeling she’s going to need you both and I know that you’ll be there for her. Just as I, wherever I am, will be there for you all.
Love you, angels,
Gran xxxx
Just thinking about the letter made Zara smile. They were doing exactly what Gran had asked. They were spending the whole inheritance on five days in Vegas for their parents. Their wild, hilarious, outrageous Ada would be loving every second of this. Especially now that her dress was coming along for the ride.
Zara moved the ‘dress for Mum’ task from the TO-DO list to the DONE column. ‘I hate it when you’re right,’ she groaned, but they both knew she was delighted that another issue was solved. ‘Since you’re so smart, any ideas on my other problem? Gary Greggs hasn’t replied to my Facebook message so I’ve hit a roadblock on that one.’
No answer from the other side of the table.
‘Millie? Millie?’
Just the soft murmurs of a sleeping sister, head on the table, out for the count.
Zara consulted the ticking clock on the wall. Half an hour before it was time to open the shop.
Another check confirmed there was still no response from Gary Gregg and, unsurprisingly, staring at his Facebook page wasn’t magically stirring up any action.
Okay, another plan needed.
A thought began to form. Gary’s Facebook page only had two posts but… Her fingers flew over her mousepad. His friends list. She clicked on it, hoping that it wasn’t private.
Yes! There it was. Aware that it bordered on stalking, but telling herself it was for the greater good, she scrolled through the list of strangers hoping for something, anything she could use. His friends list was short, so she’d only gone through about twenty names when something jarred with her. She rolled it back.
Aiden Gregg.
Specs down off her forehead and on to her face, she peered at the guy who filled her screen. About thirty. Handsome. Sharp jaw. Green eyes. Dark hair. Suit. She clicked on his profile and saw that he was a lawyer. Figured. She’d binge watchedSuitswith Kev a couple of years back and this bloke could have come straight from that show.
His profile was private so she couldn’t see most of his posts, but she saw enough to spot the very definite similarity between him and Gary. Had to be father and son.
Okay, one last stab at this. Gary Gregg had been a dead end but maybe she’d have more luck withSuitsman.
Nothing to lose. Zara started typing.
Dear Aiden…
6
BRENDA
Brenda was absent-mindedly staring out of the kitchen window, watching while Colin cut the grass. Since his imminent early retirement from the finance department at the council had first appeared on the horizon, he’d become garden obsessed. Just her luck. Wasn’t the male midlife crisis stereotype a motorbike, a sports car or an affair? Apparently not. Colin had shunned all those options for a new lawnmower and a garden that had perfectly symmetrical stripes.
Desperately seeking a diversion from watching the banality of her life play out right in front of her, Brenda picked up the phone and called her daughter. She always tried Zara’s mobile first because there was far more chance of her answering than Millie, who was haphazard at best and almost unfailingly forgot to return calls.
They’d always been the same. Even when they were kids, Zara was the one with the good grades, who hated being in trouble and made sure she did everything that was asked of her. Millie, on the other hand, was the ten-year-old who punched Charlie Benson in the face for taking her friend’s lunch money. She was the twelve-year-old who refused to do homework because she claimed it was a breach of her human rights. And the fifteen-year-old who was climbing out of her bedroom window at midnight to go meet a boyfriend.
‘Mum! Hello there. I was just thinking about you.’
