“When it comes to love, Ryan, time is irrelevant.”
Ryan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, silenced by his grandmother’s words. Seeing his expression, she let out a soft laugh.
“You don’t get to be my age without developing a spot of wisdom about life along the way, my boy,” Miriam said. “It’s been a privilege to see you and Grace together these past few days and see something lovely blossoming between the two ofyou. I’d hate for those buds to perish before they had a chance to fully bloom.”
She cocked her head, a determined expression now on her face.
“Which is why I’ve decided I’m leaving this evening, instead of staying here for another week as we originally planned.”
“What?” Ryan was stunned. “No, you can’t leave early! We’ve been looking forward to spending this time together, Grandma.”
“Yes, we have, but we can rearrange our plans and I can return some other time for the second portion of my stay. What I want most right now is for you to be with Grace and to tell her how you feel about her before she comes to the conclusion that perhaps you don’t feel anything at all. No matter whether she applies for this job in York, and no matter whether shegetsthis job in York, you must take a risk and tell her how you feel.”
Ryan sighed. “I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You won’t.”
“The other night, I started to tell her about that song I wrote, a song I wrote for her, but I couldn’t even pluck up the courage to share the lyrics with her because…”
When he trailed off, his grandmother stepped in.
“Because you bare your soul in your lyrics, and if she heard those lyrics and understood how you feel about her, she might… throw it back in your face? Just like that silly girl on that silly show threw it back in your face all those years ago?”
“Pathetic though it sounds, yes. That’s exactly what I’m scared of.”
“Which is exactly why I am leaving, so you can figure this out in your own space and in your own time, without your crusty old grandmother getting in the way.”
Seeing the resolve on her face, Ryan sighed. “I suppose you’ve already made your travel arrangements?”
“Naturally. That’s why I’ve been on the phone for the past half an hour. I was speaking to my cousin, Felicity, who lives in Bournemouth, and we’ve decided I’m going to stay with her for a week. We haven’t seen each other since your grandfather’s funeral, and it’s high time we had a proper catch up. A week by the seaside sounds perfect. She’s busy with other things this afternoon, but says if I catch an early evening train to Bournemouth later today, she’ll have a lovely supper planned for my arrival. I’ve booked my train ticket and I’m all set.”
Ryan gave his grandmother a hug. “I’m sorry you’re leaving early.”
“Don’t be. Just make good use of the free time you now have and tell Grace how you feel before it’s too late.”
His grandmother made it sound so simple.
“So, what shall we do in the meantime before you leave later?” he asked.
“I’ve already got a plan in place,” Miriam said, giving him a wink. “As this will be my last afternoon here, for a little while at least, I’ve decided I want to spend it with you andalsowith Grace, and so I sent her a message inviting her to join us for one final jaunt together before I leave.”
Ryan sighed, but he was smiling, too. He couldn’t help it. “You’re a meddler, Grandma.”
“Indeed I am,” she cackled. “I told Grace I wasn’t prepared to take no for an answer, and that we’d drive round to her house in the next half hour or so to pick her up. Naturally, little Stanley is coming along, too. I thought we’d keep things simple and enjoy exactly the same sort of time together we’ve been enjoying so far—a nice walk followed by a relaxed pub lunch somewhere. My treat.”
Miriam turned for the hallway at a fair clip. “I shall go and get myself ready, and I suggest you do the same. I think youshould change your shirt. That muddy green colour does you no favours.”
As his grandmother vanished upstairs, Ryan looked down at his shirt. Perhaps it wasn’t his best colour, now that he thought about it. If he was about to see Grace again unexpectedly—which, thanks to his grandmother, it turned out he was—then he wanted to look good.
Picking up his guitar, he carried it to his work room and hung it on the instrument rack. In his head, he rehearsed the melody he’d written for the songLost And Found. Ten minutes ago, it had felt melancholy to play the music on his guitar. But was that simply because he’d already started mentally distancing himself from Grace, just as his grandmother claimed?
As he climbed the stairs, he hummed the song.
And couldn’t help hearing the lyrics inside his head, too.
Lost and found, your heart is my home.
Was this really how he felt about Grace? And if it was, should he do what his grandmother was urging him to do, and tell her?
Staring at his reflection in his bedroom mirror as he swapped the green shirt for a navy blue one, he pondered the question and wondered how to answer it.
