Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘You look tired, Rachel.’ Grandpa took a sip from his morning tea. ‘Are you sure you’re well enough to drive to Surrey?’
‘I’m fine,’ I lied, avoiding his stare, and inspecting my piece of brioche bun. It had been difficult to sleep in Olivia’s room. I’d spent the night scrolling through my phone in the dark and looking at pics of Olivia on my Instagram.
Shortly before she died, she’d started dating a new guy who worked in a pizza restaurant, and I don’t think I’d seen her happier. One night after she’d returned from his flat, she’d summoned me into her room and asked me to be bridesmaid at her future wedding. We’d then cracked open a bottle of cheap wine from the fridge and spent hours sitting on her bed scrolling through bridal and bridesmaid dresses.
My last Instagram post of her was of us on this bed, with a giant bag of crisps between us, holding up mugs of wine and pulling funny deep-in-thought expressions. I’d added the caption – Engaged in a lengthy debate about whether I would look better in sage green or purple orchid as a bridesmaid at a future wedding.
Olivia spent the following day at work adding comments to my post on how tired she was, how her post-wine headache wasn’t going away and how the woman at who sat opposite her thought I would look great in a dreadful light peach colour.
I fell asleep against a damp pillow, clutching my phone.
Grandpa was an early riser, and he liked his breakfast cooked for him too. This meant my alarm had to be set for six thirty to make us both one of the breakfasts he enjoyed: a brioche bun filled with eggs and salmon. I also wanted to ensure we got to Harp Brook on time so that Maddie and Frank could head off to the airport.
After only three hours of sleep my eyes were puffy and sore.
‘You know, Rachel,’ said Grandpa, ‘you have always been bad at lying. I don’t know who taught you to lie because they did a terrible job.’
I laughed and he smiled. ‘You and Maddie would squabble and fight like sisters do. Maddie would come rushing into the kitchen in tears saying that you’d stolen her little box of Smarties and eaten them behind the sofa. I would summon you into the kitchen. You’d stand in front of us, with Smarties juice around your mouth, and I would ask you whether it was true what Maddie had told us about you stealing and eating her box of Smarties. You’d avoid all eye contact with us and then you’d say in a squeaky voice, “I didn’t eat her Smarties.” Your nan used to whisper in my ear, “She’s a terrible liar – isn’t she?”’
With a sigh, I sank back into my chair. ‘Am I that easy to read?’
Grandpa nodded. ‘Like a book, Rachel. The trick to good lying is to maintain eye contact and not let your voice get high pitched.’ He winked at me. ‘Also, check that your box of Smarties is not still sticking out of your back pocket, and check it doesn’t rattle as you walk away.’
We both began to giggle at my childhood Smartie theft crimes. ‘You’re right, I’m tired, Grandpa. I’m a rubbish liar. Sleeping in Olivia’s bedroom wasn’t a great idea.’
‘Do you need forty winks?’ Grandpa smiled. ‘A forty-wink nap always makes me feel better.’
‘I’ll be okay, Grandpa.’
After clearing away the plates, washing up and dragging our cases and bags downstairs into the hallway, I went for one final look around my flat to see whether I’d forgotten to pack vital things like a phone charger, my toothbrush, my favourite eyebrow pencil, or my paints, brushes, and spare canvases. Grandpa made his way down to wait by the cases.
I don’t know what made me enter Olivia’s bedroom, but I found myself in there. Wandering over to the dressing table I stared at the pink notebook. In the night I had thought about reading it, but I’d resisted. Now, it stared back at me. In a flash, I grabbed it and shoved it inside my handbag before racing out of my flat and closing the door behind me.
Dragging the cases and my bags to my car was like my own form of cardio workout. My paintbrushes had a mind of their own and flew out of the plastic bag, scattering all over the floor. By the time I had picked them up and heaved both cases into the boot, Grandpa was in the passenger side with his seat belt on. I got in beside him bathed in a light sweat.
He pointed out of the windscreen. ‘First snowflakes.’
‘Oh no.’ I stared at the fluttery flakes landing on the glass and groaned. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t start laying.’
Grandpa chuckled.
Taking a deep breath, I started the car. ‘Harp Brook here we come, Grandpa,’ I said, as we pulled away from my flat. Reaching for the radio I went to turn it on. It was time to listen to some Christmas tunes, ignore the weather and enjoy a peaceful car journey. Grandpa cleared his throat as my hand travelled towards the radio button. ‘I’ve never liked Frank, Rachel.’
I gasped, taking back my hand. ‘What? Really?’
He nodded. ‘I told Karen about how I feel, and she thought I was going senile. Our family has become blinded by Frank’s money. Maddie should never have married him.’
After blowing the air out of my cheeks I stole a glance at Grandpa. He was trembling and chewing on his thumb. ‘She’s not our Maddie anymore.’ His voice was crackly and tinged with sadness. Instinctively, I reached across and squeezed his hand. The knot in my tummy returned.
‘She used to be bubbly and full of laughter,’ he croaked. ‘Always talking about her friends and her busy life. Maddie was the life and soul of the party. When I talk to her now on the phone, I hear her subdued voice and I listen to how they both sit in that gigantic house as the dust gathers on Frank’s art collection. It breaks my old heart.’
The shock of hearing Grandpa confirm what I’d been thinking about Maddie made beads of sweat gather on my forehead. I wasn’t the only one who was concerned for Maddie.
‘Sorry, Grandpa,’ I said, fighting the urge to pull the car over and hug him.
‘Money isn’t everything, Rachel. Though your mother and your aunty Karen would disagree.’
‘I’ve also been worried about Maddie. When she came over to my flat the other day to ask me to dog sit. I saw something in her eyes. A sadness. I have this awful feeling something’s going on with her.’
Grandpa patted his knee. ‘I knew I wasn’t the only one. The rest of them have lost all their common sense but you and I have kept ours, Rachel.’
He was quiet for a while. I drove and he gazed out of the window. At the motorway services, I stopped so Grandpa could go to the toilet, and I could buy myself a coffee. Once back in the car Grandpa smiled at me. ‘We’re similar souls, you and me, Rachel.’
‘Really, Grandpa?’
He nodded. ‘When your aunty Karen explained that the family wanted me to go spend Christmas with you, I was excited.’
Guilt wrapped itself around me as I drove out of the service station. Excitement had not been my first reaction. I had been more concerned about not being able to have a proper rest.
‘We’re the Christmas Dog Sitters and we are going to have a Christmas adventure,’ he beamed, raising his fist in celebration. ‘It’s going to be great. As Nadine says, “Let’s go large.”’
He was worrying me with all this talk of an adventure and references to ‘going large’. I needed to bring him down to Earth. This was supposed to be a relaxing break. ‘Grandpa, I promised the family I would look after you in Harp Brook so we can’t do too much adventuring.’
‘This could be my last Christmas, Rachel.’
I turned to him. ‘Don’t say that, Grandpa.’
He shrugged. ‘I am in my eighties now. I’m no spring chicken. We need to make the most of the time I have left. Please can we have a Christmas adventure?’
I was curious as to what his definition of a Christmas adventure included. For all I knew he could be referring to nipping down the local pub for a shandy, the odd game of darts which I knew he loved, watching the endless rotation of Christmas films on TV and stuffing his face with a Christmas dinner and all the trimmings. ‘Okay, what would your ideal Christmas adventure include, Grandpa?’
‘I would like to save someone’s life, go on a dangerous expedition, dance with a beautiful lady under the stars, and do something amazing.’
I don’t think I have ever gripped the steering wheel so tightly and struggled to remain calm on a motorway before. Aunty Karen’s list of dos and don’ts when caring for Grandpa flashed across my mind. ‘Make sure he has a blanket over his legs, has regular cups of tea brought to him, is fed three good meals and make sure all excitement is kept to a minimum.’
She wanted me to wrap him up in cotton wool and stick him in a chair next to a Christmas tree for three weeks.
He, on the other hand, wanted to spend Christmas living like an action hero from the films Frank used to star in.
A nervous laugh escaped from my lips. ‘Oh, Grandpa, I don’t think Harp Brook is going to be that exciting.’
‘Rachel, I didn’t want to tell you but…’ He paused and I gulped.
‘Tell me what, Grandpa?’ My heart pounded against my ribcage.
‘I’m lonely, Rachel, and it’s making me very sad.’
His words hung in the air between us for a few seconds. ‘Lonely?’ I repeated and glanced at him.
‘Your nan has been dead for ten years. I miss her every day but she’s not coming back. I spend my days alone in my shed, listening to the radio and wishing I had someone to talk to, someone to laugh with and hold my hand. When I look out of the window in my living room, I see couples walking by chatting and laughing. Some days I even open the window just so that I can hear people again. The world is going on without me. It makes me very sad.’
The gloom in his voice brought tears to my eyes. I had to blink them away and stay focused on the stretch of the motorway. ‘Why don’t you go to the community centre? They have lots of events for seniors.’
He shook his head. ‘Not that kind of lonely, Rachel. I would like to fall in love again.’
I gasped and imagined Mum’s face hearing that her father wanted to have some romance over Christmas. That was not on Aunty Karen’s list. ‘Really?’
He let out a heavy sigh. ‘I want to experience life again. Live dangerously for a few weeks and make Harp Brook a Christmas to remember.’
His words made every part of me clench. With the back of my hand, I wiped my forehead. It was glazed with sweat. All this car drama had sent my bladder into a tailspin. I was desperate for the loo, and I sensed Christmas at Harp Brook was not going to give me the relaxing break I needed.