Page 16 of Right Place, Right Time
‘So what are you going to say about my grandfather’s things?’ Adam lifts another slice of pizza from the box.
‘It depends very much on what you tell me,’ I say when I’ve finished chewing. ‘What do you know about him and the rest of your family? Was he your paternal grandfather?’
‘No, my mum’s dad.’
‘Were you close?’
Adam shrugs. ‘Not really. Even though I came to live here with him when I was a child, he was always too busy to pay me much attention. He wasn’t really a hands-on grandfather, if you know what I mean?’
I didn’t. My grandparents and I had been very close.
‘How long did you live here for?’
Adam thinks. ‘About five years, maybe. I went to boarding school when I was quite young, so I only spent holidays here, really.’
‘Youwent to boarding school?’ I ask in surprise.
‘Yes, what’s so strange about that?’
‘Nothing, nothing at all. You just don’t seem the type.’
‘What type is that, then? Upper crust and snooty? That’s very judgemental of you.’ He gives me a reproving look.
I’m about to apologise when I realise he’s trying to wind me up as usual.
‘Ha ha,’ I say flatly, shaking my head. ‘You’re hilarious.’
‘Aren’t I?’ Adam grins. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Your face was a picture.’
‘Jokes aside,’ I say, trying to bring our conversation back on track. ‘Why did you come and live here with your grandfather?’
‘My mum passed away when I was seven, and my dad upped and left a few years later. I had no choice.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ I’m surprised, shocked even, to hear that Adam has gone through this sort of trauma in his younger years.
‘Yeah, well, it is what it is,’ Adam says, far too matter-of-factly. ‘Mum died of cancer and Dad couldn’t cope. He walked out one day and never came back. So my grandfather had to look after me. His idea of that was sending me away to boarding school.’
I just nod. Underneath his apparent bravado, I can see this is clearly not an easy topic for Adam to talk about. For once, something we both have in common.
‘So you can understand why I don’t have many happy memories of this house and I just want to sell it as quickly as possible.’ He takes a long sip of his drink and looks out of the kitchen window.
‘Of course,’ I say, then hesitate, debating whether I should say what I want to. ‘You must have had some good times here, though? Perhaps just one or two better memories when your mum was alive? It seems a shame to cast a dark cloud overallyour memories of living here.’
Adam looks at me and I wonder for a moment if he’s about to tell me to mind my own business. But instead he appears to consider my question.
‘I do have one good memory,’ he says, remembering. ‘When we’d come to visit my grandfather, my mum would take me into the library and read to me.’ He smiles wistfully. ‘They were happy times.’
I smile too. ‘There’s quite a collection in there. What sort of books did he have back then?’
‘Oh, all sorts. Similar to what’s there now, I suppose. There were encyclopaedias and classical fiction. But therewas also quite a big children’s section that my mother would always choose a book from to read to me.’
‘Did you have any brothers or sisters?’ I ask.
‘No, it was just me – only child.’
‘So your grandfather must have got those books in just for you?’ I say.
Adam considers this. ‘Yes, I suppose he must. I’d never really thought about it like that.’ He looks at me. ‘Thank you, Eve. You’ve given me a happy memory of this place. When before, all I had were tortured ones, of missing my parents and living with a grumpy old man.’
