Chapter 36 Stephanie
Stephanie
Present day
When I arrived at Nan’s room, the doctor was just leaving.
‘Hello there,’ she called as I came along the corridor.
I hurried over. ‘Is she all right?’
‘She’s fine now. She was a bit flustered earlier. Confused. Go on in – I’m sure she’ll like to see you.’
Nan was asleep in her chair. I sat next to her and waited for her to wake up. I put the book on the floor next to me, then I took out my phone and typed a message to my dad.
“I’m with Nan,” I wrote. “She’s fine but she won’t always be fine.” No point in beating around the bush when it came to my dad. “You should call her.”
I pressed send and put the phone back in my pocket. And when I looked back at Nan, she was awake. She looked right at me.
‘Max is in prison,’ she said.
Her words hit me like a hammer blow and made me gasp. How did she know? ‘He is, Nan.’
‘Can’t say it’s a surprise. He attracts trouble like honey attracts bees.’
I laughed.
‘He wrote to me.’
Startled, I looked at her closely, wondering if she was getting confused again. ‘Really? Are you sure? Where’s the letter, Nan?’
She blinked at me, and I scanned the room. On the bedside table was an envelope. I picked it up and waved it at her.
‘Can I look?’
‘What is it?’
‘A letter.’
‘I don’t get letters now,’ Nan said. ‘No one writes letters anymore.’
I slid the paper out of the envelope. There was one page addressed to Nan.
It was typical Max. Full of bravado and charm and perfect for Nan, I thought.
And then, tucked inside the envelope was another page.
This one was folded into quarters and had my name on the front.
I breathed in sharply and for a bewildering moment I thought Max had already replied to the letter I’d only just sent him but that was impossible.
‘I wrote to Max today,’ I told my grandmother, who was watching me. ‘Our letters must have crossed.’
‘Right pair of Charlies,’ she said.
Feeling my heart thump, I unfolded the note.
Inside, Max had drawn his version of my television.
Beneath it, he’d written: “Sorry.” And beneath that, he’d drawn the volume dial turned up to max.
I turned the page over but it was blank on the other side.
That was it. He was a man of few words, my brother.
But it turned out that one word was all I needed.
I smiled at Nan.
‘Max said sorry,’ I said.
‘He likes cheese on toast for his tea.’
I shook my head. ‘That’s dad, Nan. That is Geoff, your son Geoff.’
‘Geoff.’
I reached out and took her hand. Her skin was like soft paper, like the pages of a well-loved book, and the veins on the back of her hand stuck out. I thought how lucky I was to have her.
‘Nan,’ I said. ‘I wanted to say thank you for looking after me and Max. I don’t know what we’d have done without you when Mum left.
’ I paused, trying to gather my thoughts.
‘You’d done it all, hadn’t you? You’d already brought up your kids.
And then you got landed with us. It can’t have been easy.
But you did it and we love you so much, Nan. ’
She turned her head slowly and watched me as I spoke.
‘My son Geoff is a waste of space,’ she said. I stifled a laugh. That wasn’t something I would write in the book for her. ‘But oh, he’s a charmer.’
I laughed out loud this time. ‘He is, Nan.’
‘Could sell snow to the Eskimos that one.’
‘Like your mum,’ I said.
She looked right at me. ‘He’s just like my mum. Gift of the gab.’
I smiled but she wasn’t finished.
‘He’s got twins, you know? Twins. Stephanie and Max. Always together. Thick as thieves. Always off whispering together. A right pair of Charlies, I call them.’
‘That’s right, Nan,’ I said, enjoying her being so talkative for once. ‘Remember when we swapped clothes and you pretended you didn’t know which of us was which?’
She gazed at me from watery eyes.
‘I love those kids with all my heart,’ she said firmly. ‘Proud as punch of them I am.’
I swallowed a sob. She’d never said anything like that before.
‘I’m proud of you too, Nan.’
She nodded. ‘Max is in prison.’
‘He is.’
‘He’ll come and see me when he gets out.’
‘He will.’
On my lap, my phone beeped with a message from my dad.
“FaceTime me, please.”
He’d never been one for long gushy messages.
I pressed call on his number and when he answered and the call connected, I saw he was on the beach.
‘Working hard,’ I said with a grin, using his own catchphrase. ‘Or hardly working? I can’t believe you’re on the beach.’
‘I’m not on the beach, I’m having a beer next to the beach,’ he said, holding up his glass so I could see it. ‘Can you speak up? It’s hard to hear you.’
‘I’m in Nan’s room, so I don’t want to disturb her.’
‘She’s deaf as a post; she won’t be bothered.’
‘Dad,’ I chided. I got up and went outside the door so Nan wouldn’t hear. ‘Listen, I’ve been doing this art thing, about saying stuff you want to say before it’s too late.’ I paused. ‘I wrote to Max.’
Dad was quiet for a minute. Then he said: ‘I hope you didn’t apologise.’
Surprised, I said: ‘Well, I did a bit.’
‘The only person to blame for Max being in prison is Max,’ Dad said firmly.
‘You’re right,’ I agreed. ‘But I still felt bad. I thought everyone blamed me.’
‘Not at all,’ Dad said. ‘Though I do blame your mother a bit.’ I laughed. ‘Did he reply to your letter?’
‘He won’t have got it yet,’ I said. ‘But the funny thing is, he wrote to me, here at the same time. He wrote to Nan and me.’
Dad rolled his eyes. ‘And did he apologise to you?’
‘He did.’
He nodded. ‘Good lad.’
Feeling calmer than I had since Max went, I said: ‘Do you want to speak to Nan? I know you’ve not always had the best relationship, but I’m learning how important it is to say what you want to say. Before it’s too late.’
‘You’re right,’ Dad said. He sounded surprisingly choked up. ‘I suppose I should have a quick word.’
‘She might not know you,’ I warned.
Dad nodded. ‘I understand.’
I went back into Nan’s room and held the phone up so she could see. She looked at the screen, but she didn’t react, until Dad spoke.
‘Hello, Mum,’ he said.
Nan frowned. ‘My Geoff’s got himself a girlfriend. Proper sort, she is. Legs up to her armpits. Flaky as a bloody steak pie. Don’t trust her as far as I can throw her.’
‘Nan!’ I exclaimed, shocked at her description of my mother. But Dad laughed.
‘I should have listened to you, Mum. Saved myself the bother.’
‘He’s a good boy, my Geoff,’ said Nan. She squinted at the screen. ‘He looks like you. But younger.’
Dad chuckled. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll call again next week, eh?’
‘Waste of bloody space,’ Nan muttered.
‘Stevie, can we speak outside again?’ Dad said. I took the phone away from Nan’s face and went back to the doorway. Dad sighed. ‘You’re a good girl, looking out for her like you do. She loves you to pieces – you know that. You and your brother.’
‘Yes,’ I said, honestly. ‘I do know that.’ I ended the call, feeling teary, and went back inside to sit with Nan.
*
‘Oh, honey, I’m so pleased Max wrote to you,’ Tara said the next day.
I smiled. ‘I owe Elsie one,’ I said. ‘I wrote to Max, and he wrote to me – though that was coincidence I suppose, I can’t really give Elsie credit for that.
And Dad spoke to Nan, and she said some funny stuff about my mum, and she said she loved us.
And my dad even said I was good for looking out for Nan and he was grateful. ’
‘Well, who’d have thunk it,’ Tara said. ‘Everyone’s saying things they should have said years ago.’
‘Thanks to Elsie.’
‘Talking of Elsie, how’s that gorgeous Finn?’
‘Ah.’
‘Ah?’ She looked at me through narrowed eyes. ‘What does “ah” mean? I don’t like the sound of that “ah”.’
I put my head into my hands. ‘We broke up.’
‘What? You’d barely gotten started.’
‘I know.’
‘What did you do?’
I thought about lying and saying it wasn’t me, but Tara was looking at me in the way she had that made me admit everything I’d ever done wrong, so I said: ‘He was in an accident and I couldn’t handle it. Not after all the stuff with Max. I know I’m pathetic but it just felt like it was too soon.’
‘Is he okay?’
‘Yes.’ I groaned. ‘I think so.’
‘I don’t get it, Stevie. Why did you break up with him?’
I looked up at the ceiling. ‘Because I like him too much,’ I muttered. ‘And I was scared it was all going to go wrong.’
‘Oh, honey.’ Tara gave me a friendly and slightly despairing nudge.
‘I know. I’m an idiot. But I was so scared, Tara. The police came to my flat and it was just like …’
‘Like when Max stole your stuff?’ She sounded sympathetic and that made me want to cry. I pinched my lips together and nodded.
‘What happened with Max was terrible,’ Tara said carefully. ‘But you can’t live your life worrying things are always going to go wrong, Stevie. That’s no life at all.’
‘It’s too scary,’ I whispered.
‘I know.’ She smoothed a strand of my hair off my face. ‘But all the good stuff is a little bit scary. I was terrified when I first came to London. More so when I opened this place.’ She looked round. ‘I’m still a bit scared about it actually.’
I gave a little laugh. ‘God, Tara. How are you so wise?’
‘Because I’ve been a bartender my whole adult life and I’ve heard a lot of people’s problems,’ she said with a grin. ‘How was Finn when you saw him?’
‘I’ve not seen him.’ I winced. ‘He cleared his stuff out of Tall Trees.’
‘All of it?’
‘Pretty much. Except for Elsie’s book. I was going to give it back but he’d left already.’
‘So you have it still?’
‘I do.’
Tara gave a knowing nod. ‘Because Finn is a good guy and he knows you need it for your project.’
‘Ah,’ I said.
‘No, not another “ah”. What now?’
‘I’m thinking of pulling out of the project.’
‘No way,’ said Tara firmly. ‘What’s going on with that?’