Page 72 of Big Nick Energy
‘He’s kind. He’s generous. He’s sorted in life, good job, a flat. He’s handsome. It’s different to last time. Last time, we were at university and we didn’t know what we wanted out of life. We were so young. Now we’re older and I’m thinking about the future.’
Nana looks at me, a little horrified. ‘Who are you again?’
I pause for a moment, thinking this might be her dementia talking, that all my words have just disappeared into the ether. ‘I’m Kay, your granddaughter.’
‘Yeah, I knowthat. What I mean is that it doesn’t sound like you, thinking about the future and serious things. The Kay I know is creative and kind and you’ve never been obsessed by money and what may or may not happen in the future.’
‘But isn’t it time to start, Nana? To start saving some money? Be sensible?’
‘Why?’ Deep down, I think I know it’s because I need a better plan when it comes to looking after Nana in this place. I live in her flat, I don’t earn a lot from the library work and sometimes even less from my book royalties but maybe it’s time to be an adult, to think seriously about the shape of my future. Being with Old Nick would help mould that shape into place. ‘Sweetie, whenI eventually leave this planet, I won’t be lying here thinking about that ISA I once put into place or how sensible I was to have paid off my mortgage. Oh yes, those saving bonds will do me good now.’ I smile reluctantly to hear her mocking me. ‘You’ll think about words, people, deeds, memories of those who made your heart glow. Does he make your heart glow?’
‘If my heart glowed, it’d be radioactive.’
‘She’s avoiding the question.’
‘He makes me feel safe; he cares about me. He makes me think that maybe after all this time, life brought us back together for a reason.’
Nana looks up for a moment to take that in. ‘But then life also brought you the tall glass of water, also called Nick, doesn’t that mean something?’
‘No.’
‘It does. Life sometimes asks you to make choices too. I loved your grandad but there were other men I could have gone with. There was a postman called Alf who was sweet on me.’
‘Why didn’t you go with him?’
‘Big chest like a pigeon,’ she says, scrunching up her nose and laughing. ‘You get thrown in the path of a lot of men in your life, lovely. And they are all sent to test you, you work out if they fit into the puzzle of your life.’ I nod as I take in her pearls of wisdom. ‘Your grandad made everything good, he was the first person I wanted to tell everything to, and he was one of these people in life that just raised you up. I always knew my happiness was the most important thing to him.’
‘That’s very romantic, Nana.’
‘It is, for me. Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty wrong with the bugger. He had wind strong enough to power a turbine, he hated Christmas – grumpy bastard at the best of times – but when it came to me…’ She shrugs her shoulders, smiling broadly at bringing Grandad to mind.
I go over to the bed and put an arm round her and rest my head on her shoulder. Do any of those words help? I have no idea. I came here because I knew this was a safe place to be, to talk, to be under the wing of someone who well and truly loved me for me, so this was the place to get answers. I still feel none the wiser though. I feel confused. I know I hurt Santa Nick, that I led him on and I have no idea how to fix that. Maybe that’s just the end of that? Maybe there’s no redemption there.
‘You still look very stressed, lovely,’ Nana says. She takes a hand in mine and looks at my manicure, slightly chipped and grown out. ‘Go out and treat yourself, get your nails done. Look after you.’
‘I would. I’ve just got a lot of books to still give out. I’ve got writing deadlines. I’ve got to get gifts for Old Nick’s family now I’m going round there. For Christmas Day as well, we’re breaking you out of here, yeah? Shall I cook?’ Nana pulls a face and I push her playfully. ‘I’ll get some bits from M&S and stuff them in the oven.’
‘Then I am there. Can you get some nice cheese in?’
‘Of course.’
She grabs both of my cheeks and holds my face up. I love how she takes in every inch of my face when she’s looking at me, so she can put it into a part of her memory where it may stick. ‘Katherine Redman, birthday the twenty-first of July, you find someone who sees all that light in you, you hear me? All of it.’
‘I’ll try,’ I say, smiling sadly. I just have no idea who that person is. Because that person is usually you, Nana.
‘You better. Now open your bag and show me what nice treats you have for me. You got them nice Lebkuchen from Aldi?’
‘Of course I have. I’m not a bloody amateur.’
I leave Nana’s before dinner that night and head over to the train station where they have a special bookshelf where people can leave books. I knew this was the case so had five wrapped in my bag especially. Maybe this is what I can do in the run up to Christmas, I can travel around London and find these bookshelves and stock them. I can hope those books go to good homes, that they entertain someone for a long train ride and then get passed on again. That’s what should happen with books. I hope that’s what happens with mine at least. Someone reads about my bears and then they pass that story on to someone else. The legacy is the joy, the words, it’s how we should treat all stories. I look at the shelf, picking up a well-thumbed version ofPride and Prejudicewith passages highlighted, and Iput it in my bag. To my left, I see a couple standing there, waiting for a train, holding hands.
‘I really need a better coat,’ she moans.
The familiarity of the conversation makes me eavesdrop.
‘And finally, I have an idea of what to buy you for Christmas.’
‘Christ, please don’t buy me a coat.’
