Page 72 of The Winter We Met
‘I thought Oliver was coming today,’ said Gran. ‘Couldn’t he change his shift? Not that I expect him to… He’s a good sort to even consider coming.’
‘He’s very fond of you – you know that. No, he… he decided Buddy needed a long walk.’
Gran leant forwards. ‘But it’s been raining all day.’
‘That’s never bothered either of them,’ I said brightly. Another teapot and cappuccino arrived.
Gran dropped sugar cubes into her refilled cup and her eyes narrowed. ‘What’s going on? You and Oliver… things have seemed strained between you these last few weeks. I know it’s no business of an old biddy like me, but I worry about the both of you. I’d hate to see a friendship like yours break.’
‘We’re fine! I just thought we might want to chat privately. Two girls together and all that,’ I said, giving her the excuse I’d given Oliver and trying to sound jokey.
‘What about?’
‘Nothing.’
Gran raised an eyebrow. ‘Jessica?’
‘Okay, okay…’ I mumbled. ‘I’d rather have told you somewhere more private, but as a result of that photo of you in theGazetteon Friday… I’ve received a lot of emails. The community has really been so generous. One party organiser company from Amblemarsh has offered to turn up early and decorate the lounge with snowflake shaped helium balloons and foil icicle chains. But there was one message a bit different from the rest…’ I took another mouthful of tea but my mouth still felt dry when I put the cup down. There was no easy way to say it. ‘I’ve heard from Mum.’
Gran stared. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Saturday night.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me immediately?’
‘I wasn’t sure what to do for the best.’
Gran’s cheeks coloured up. ‘I had a right to know.’
‘That woman has messed our lives up enough and we’ve got this move to deal with. I didn’t want—’
‘You didn’t think I could cope?’ Gran snorted. ‘I may be upset about Willow Court’s closure but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my backbone. Is that how you see me? As weak, some sort of pathetic pensioner you are duty-bound to help?’
‘No! Of course n—’
‘In case you’ve forgotten, it’s been me looking out for you all these years. Who sorted out those girls bullying you in Year 8 when the teachers did nothing? Who worked more than one job at a time to pay the bills? That’s saying nothing about how I kept bailing out your mum until I realised that was just making her easier to do what she wanted. I had to draw on strength I didn’t know I had to slowly let go. But now, years later, she finally gets in touch again and you decide it’s none of my business. Were you not going to tell me at all?’
‘I just needed to think about it, Gran, and find the right moment.’
‘What if that hadn’t arrived?’ Gran took her gloves out of her bag. ‘You know, I’m tired of feeling powerless – and now I realise that’s partly my own fault.’ She sat straighter. ‘I’ve been wallowing in self-pity. I’ve lost sight of who I am.’ She pushed back her chair. ‘I’ll be catching a taxi home.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
She gave me a sharp look. ‘Please forward that email to me immediately,’ she said stiffly. ‘And I’ll deal with Darkthorn House on my own, from this point forwards.’ Unsteadily, she stood up. Looking a little confused, the waitress hurried over with her coat and helped her into it. Banging into a chair as she went, Gran shuffled outside, into the rain.
33
Gran hadn’t spoken to me since Monday. I’d phoned but she didn’t reply, so I texted, asking how she was. A two-word message came back:Okay thanks.I didn’t look up when someone walked past me in the darkness outside Willow Court and their large bag banged against my leg. I hardly noticed the frosty air as I mulled over the chill between me and Gran. However as I approached the entrance loud voices jolted me back to the present. The door was held open by a man in overalls as two others carried the gorgeous welsh dresser that stood at the back of the dining room. Residents loved it, with its display of decorative plates.
‘But I’ve made it quite clear to head office that no more removals are to take place until all the residents have moved out,’ said Lynn. She was pacing to and fro. ‘You can’t take that. It’s not right.’
‘Sorry, love, we’re only following orders,’ said the man holding the door, in a gruff voice. He was texting with one hand into his phone.
‘This is people’s lives,’ she said and looked at her watch. ‘It’s half past six. Head office won’t be open now. They’ve done this on purpose.’
‘We got held up in traffic.’
I stepped aside as the Welsh dresser was carried past. I hadn’t even noticed the large van parked up outside.
