Page 36 of The Winter We Met
Nik yawned again, looked at his watch and put on his anorak.
‘You did well to rope in Glenda,’ I said in a low voice.
‘Normally I wouldn’t push so hard but I didn’t want her to feel left out. Everyone seems to have children or grandchildren who’ll be attending – she doesn’t. Perhaps being forced into one-to-ones with everyone will make her feel more like part of this community.’
‘And well done for putting Pan at ease,’ I said. ‘She’s never said anything about her mum being alive before.’
‘All the time I spent with Grams… I know how stress can make memory problems worse and Pan – like everyone else – is having to cope with a lot of upheaval at the moment.’
‘Your gran… it was lovely what you shared with the residents. She sounds like an amazing person.’
‘She really was.’ He leant forwards and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Right, I’ll be in touch. Must go now otherwise I’ll fall asleep on the train. I want to have a look around Pollock’s Toy Museum tomorrow, and some quirky toy stores in Camden.’
Betty appeared by his side as I ran a finger over the skin his lips had touched. ‘Are we going home, Jim? My bag’s all ready. If we hurry no one will notice.’
He took her hand. ‘I want the house to look spick and span for you, Betty. I need a bit more time to tidy it.’
She stared for a while. Nik held her gaze. Eventually, she nodded and walked away. Nik left.
A shiver crossed my back as, once again, I thanked the heavens for sending this man into my life. Oliver must surely realise, now, that he was a great person through and through. I turned to face him, to suggest we get takeout tonight. Not cooking would give me more time to ring the hospital and find out how Gran was doing, and send her a cheery text explaining everything that had been discussed this afternoon. However, I was met with folded arms and the deepest frown as he gazed through the back window at Nik hurrying away in the darkness.
16
‘You’ve hardly spoken since we got home,’ I said. Oliver hadn’t turned on the Christmas tree lights like he normally did as soon as he got in. Not even when I told him the great news that I’d rung the hospital and the ward sister said Gran’s back pain had eased off a little and to ring at lunchtime tomorrow after the consultant’s rounds. I was hoping this might mean she was going to be discharged.
Oliver, Buddy and I were on the sofa, a cinnamon-scented candle lighting up the coffee table. I was in my pyjamas, Oliver in a jumper and jeans, and Buddy was wearing his widest puppy dog eyes, despite knowing he had very little chance of getting one of the sticky Chinese pork ribs. It was our Saturday night in. Takeout. A dance reality show on the telly. A cheap bottle of wine. We should have been in our element, arguing over who was the best contestant and which of the three of us had snuck the last prawn cracker.
‘I’m tired that’s all. Playing Alf at dominoes – it takes all my concentration to keep up. I’m hoping one day he reveals his secret.’ He took a glug of wine. ‘It reminds me of my nanny – our all-time favourite game was called Rummikub. She didn’t believe in letting people win, not even children, but she always encouraged me, taking time to explain the tactics she used. I’ll never forget my sixteenth birthday – I went out with my mates at the weekend, but on the actual day Mum and Dad were away on business so she and I had a games night. I beat her for the first time.’
‘That explains why you never let me win at Super Mario.’
‘We both know you could thrash me if you put the practice in. Your reflexes are the quickest I’ve ever seen with card games like Snap or Ming.’
That was one of the first things I’d ever noticed about Oliver – the way he built me up.
‘You never kept in touch with your nanny?’
‘There was an argument… Mum and Dad tried to blame her for me not wanting to go to university. She’d always told me to follow my dreams whereas my parents focused on the future being all about getting a high-paid job. She was devastated, having looked up to them all those years and left under a cloud of their making. But I still visited her on her birthday and would drop by at Christmas.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I never got used to calling her Julia. In the end she got cancer.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I was grateful to be there right at the end, in hospital. She didn’t have any relatives to speak of – said something about a fallout years before.’ He shrugged. ‘One thing I’ve realised, getting older – there’s no such thing as a normal family.’
We watched television for a while.
‘So tonight… you’re just tired?’ I ventured, in between dancing contestants.
‘Exhausted.’
Living with Gran had taught me never to dodge asking difficult questions. She would always answer mine. Like the time I caught her crying on Mum’s birthday. She said she felt sad – like she’d failed as a mother. I gave her a big hug. In return she’d ask straight out why I was irritable if I was having a bad day and we had open discussions about periods and boyfriends. Most of my friends hated it when their parents asked about things like that but I rarely complained. It was nice to have an adult take an interest. Mum had always evaded the truth. After her release from prison, it was weeks before she came around to see me. I’d been nine when she was charged and just turned eleven when she was released. I wanted to know why she hadn’t called straightaway and why wouldn’t she let me visit her in prison? Why she didn’t want to live me with again? She’d said it was hard to explain – that I’d understand when I was older, that we’d talk about it then, but she still kept her distance and now had a husband and stepdaughter.
I turned off the television.
‘Oi! I was enjoying that,’ he protested.
I took his glass of wine and placed it on the coffee table. I gave Buddy a gentle push and he jumped off the sofa and settled by my slippers.
‘What’s going on? Your face looked like thunder watching Nik leave Willow Court today. You’ve met him, had drinks together and shared jokes. Please, tell me you’re not still suspicious.’
