My heart surgesas I see Gran’s cottage. For a time up in Scotland, I’d wondered whether I’d ever be back here.
I give a light knock before opening her door and immediately being enveloped in the smell of lavender. Before I go into the kitchen, where I know I’ll find her at this time of day, I steady myself against the wall. Relief floods into me as I rest a hand on the wallpaper that’s been in the house as long as I can remember.
‘Roman, is that you?’ Gran’s voice carries through the small cottage.
‘I’ve brought cake.’ I plaster a smile on my face, hoping that she can’t see how turbulent my thoughts are.
She stands to greet me as I walk into the kitchen, her eyes softening as she reaches up to pat my cheek.
‘Well,’ she says. ‘Look what the cat dragged in.’
‘Nice to see you too,’ I reply, putting the cake boxes on the table and hitting the switch on the kettle.
‘You overcompensating for something? she asks, tapping the two boxes with interest.
‘I missed you. And I missed a week, so I’ve doubled up. Francesca made a cinnamon crunch cake this week, and I couldn’t resist grabbing us some.’
‘A bribe for leaving your dear old Granny all alone,’ she says with a laugh. ‘The other is still chocolate, right?’
‘Of course.’
Gran opens the boxes and pinches a little of the crunchy cinnamon topping while I make a pot of tea and fill the milk jug, taking both to the table along with some china cups.
‘So fill me in on where you’ve been that was so interesting you bailed on me.’
‘We’ve not even poured the tea yet,’ I say, grinning at her.
‘Then pour the damned tea and get on with it. I’m getting older by the second.’
‘I popped up to Scotland. Just needed to get away for a few days.’ Gran’s eyes narrow as I stir the milk into the tea.
‘You’ve got a face like a smacked backside.’
‘That’s just my face.’
‘Roman, I’ve known you since you emerged from your mother. There’s no pulling one over on me. Now spill.’
‘I did go to Scotland.’
She takes a large slice of cake and flops it onto a plate, digging into it with a tiny fork.
I continue. ‘To a wedding.’
She chews a mouthful of cake and gestures with her fork for me to continue.
I blow out a breath. ‘I met a woman.’
Gran freezes with her fork midway to her mouth. Then she slowly sets it back on the plate.
‘…Oh?’ she says, in a tone that spells trouble.
‘Oh,’ I confirm.
She leans forward slightly. ‘Awoman.’
‘Yes.’
‘A friend?’
