‘How can it be that here I am, a doddery old man of eighty-six,’ Grandad says, looking at both Lucas and me. ‘Growing old isn’t a right. Age is an honour.’
‘Let’s change the subject,’ Lucas suggests, firmly snapping the photograph album shut, as if he’s done enough looking back to the past.
‘Yes!’ claps Isla. ‘Chocolate cake!’ Before long she is marching into the sitting room with the birthday cake she baked with Ruki. Spud follows close behind, sniffing the air with hope, since luckily for him Isla often falls or trips. But not this time as the cake makes it safely on to Grandad’s lap.
He claps his hands before we sing Happy Birthday, Isla taking a photograph.
In between mouthfuls of chocolate cake, Lucas says, ‘So come on, Jan, what’s the new boss like?’
Grandad roars with laughter as I recall the catalogue of disasters, ending in Spud peeing against his desk. Soon we’re all laughing, Grandad saying it would make a great scene in a film. If only Ward could hear us.
‘You came,’ I say quietly to Lucas as we head upstairs to bed.
‘You were right.’
‘What did you say? I was right?’
‘Don’t push it J.’ He is almost smiling back.
‘I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.’
‘I don’t. Am I in my old room?’ he asks. Clearly he doesn’t want to elaborate on his love life.
I nod.
‘Night then.’ He kisses me on the cheek.
‘It means the world to him, you being here.’ I hesitate. ‘And to me.’
The following afternoon Grandad takes me into his arms as we say goodbye. Lucas had to leave soon after breakfast, but even a glimpse of him improved Grandad’s spirits. I can feel how thin he is, even under his many layers of jumpers. ‘Don’t you worry, Jan. I have my new toy and chocolate cake. Now go. You don’t want to hit rush hour.’ I hug him even more tightly.
As I drive off, Isla is excited about the photographs she has taken over the weekend, whereas I am fighting hard not to cry. I hate leaving him. For a moment I see myself nearly seventeen years ago, smoking a cigarette out of my bedroom window, my bags and suitcases packed. Lizzie was picking me up that afternoon to drive us to our new flat in west London. I was nervous, unlike Lizzie who saw adventure in everything. ‘We’re going to set the Thames on fire!’ she’d say. Lizzie was used to change because her parents could never settle in one place. By the time I met her in Cornwall she was fourteen and attending her sixth school. It was lucky for me that her parents fell in love with Fowey enough to stay put for a few years. I remember many children in our class saying Lizzie was a ‘weirdo and a thickie’. ‘Two for the price of one,’ Lizzie would reply, appearing unaffected on the surface but I know it hurt deep down. ‘Everyone bullied me except for you, Jan,’ she once said. ‘Even the teachers thought I was stupid, but I didn’t get the time to learn anything because we were always moving on.’ Lizzie became part of our family. She loved my grandparents because they were kind and welcoming, always inviting her for sleepovers and picnics on the beach. Our family provided stability. Granny adored Lizzie because she knew she looked out for me just as I did for her.
Lizzie was headstrong, wild, confident and ambitious. She used to tell my grandparents that she was going to be a famous chef and travel across the world. ‘She will too,’ Grandad said, loving her spirit. During those last few hours, waiting to go, thoughts were racing through my mind. Maybe I should stay? I wasn’t like Lucas, who couldn’t wait to get away to earn his fortune and prove that he didn’t need anyone, least of all our grandparents and me. Nor was I like Lizzie. I heard Granny’s footsteps approaching and threw the cigarette butt out of the window.
As I drive on, I can see her now, so vividly.
‘I’d be nervous too,’ she said, standing at my door. She looked around the bare room with my wardrobe doors swinging open, nothing inside except for hangers and an old coat, along with a stripy hexagonal hatbox on the top shelf. ‘It’s going to be strange without you,’ she said, perching on the bed.
‘I’ll miss the sound of the sea.’
‘But it’s always here for you. The sea, me, your grandad.’ She stared ahead. ‘My first flat, January, was in Wilton Street, smart location but grotty. There was no plumbing in the kitchen so when you let the water out you had to catch it in a bucket, then throw it down the loo.’ She chuckled. ‘But the thing is, I loved being independent. There’s a whole world out there, waiting for you, so you grab it.’
Our goodbye was brief. Granny hated them as much as me. So Lizzie and I set off in her old Mini. Ten minutes later she was flicking through radio stations when I realised I had to go back. ‘I forgot something.’
Lizzie looked at me suspiciously. ‘We can’t get anything else in the car, Jan.’
‘Please,’I urged.
I left Lizzie in the car as I raced into the hallway. I wasabout to call out for them, maybe Granny was in the kitchen garden, but I stopped when I heard their voices in the sitting room.
‘We knew this day would come,’ Grandad said.
‘But it… it… makes it… it makes it… no easier.’ Granny was choking on the words.
‘Come here. Those children are a credit to us, to you.’
‘When we lost our little girl we had no time to grieve, didn’t have that luxury with a baby and Lucas. I had to learn to be a mother again. But now…’ She gasped, trying to catch her breath. ‘We don’t haveanyone,only an empty house.’
