Gran Knows Best A story of family bonds

She was a lady of impeccable taste, and we were best shopping buddies… but for how long would it last?

Don’t say anything to your mum,” Gran said, catching my arm as we travelled up the escalator in the department store, “but I’m going to exchange that blouse she bought me for my birthday. It’s just not me, I’m afraid.”

“My lips are sealed,” I told her, stifling a smile.

It was something of a standing joke in the family that Gran nearly always exchanged her presents. Mum called her the most difficult woman in the world to buy for.

“I don’t know what your mother was thinking. When did you ever see me in anything flowery and frilly? And pink? I mean, do I look like a pink sort of person, Nat?”

“Not really,” I had to agree, surveying her slim figure which was attired in a tasteful shade of plum. “But it’s from their retro range – she thought it might appeal to you because it’s got a Seventies look.”

“Well, I’m in my seventies and it’s definitely not my look!” Gran chuckled.

We arrived at the third floor and Gran made her way over to the customer service desk while I just, well, sort of hung around.

Our Saturday afternoon jaunts into town began when I first passed my driving test, three years ago. I was eager to practise my newfound driving skills and Gran, recently widowed, was keen to get out of the house. Somehow it had turned into a weekly event.

Not that I minded. We’ve always got on really well, Gran and me.

I enjoy our lively chats. I can talk to her about almost anything – music, politics, fashion, personal stuff. We don’t always agree and our chats can get a bit – well – animated. But, like Gran, they are never dull.

After a few minutes she came back, waving a gift voucher.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. What a palaver. They wanted to know why I wanted to exchange it. Was it faulty? Was it the wrong size?” Gran sighed impatiently. “Just saying I didn’t like it didn’t seem to tick any of their boxes.

“Then they wanted to know my email address. I expect I’ll be bombarded with lots of marketing emails now.”

“I didn’t know you had an email address, Gran.”

“Ah, Nat, you don’t know everything about me,” Gran said mysteriously. “I have my secrets. Actually, I’ve bought a laptop and I’ve been taking computer lessons at the library – intending to amaze you all with my new skills.”

“Brilliant,” I said, giving her a hug. “Hey, soon we’ll be able to follow each other on Facebook.”

Gran pulled a face. “I’m not sure about Facebook – I think it might drive me crazy. Edna next door is always on it and whenever I go round I have to look at the latest photos of her grandchildren doing amazing things like shopping or eating in cafés.

“And now that two of them are pregnant I’ll soon be bombarded with endless photos of cute babies.”

“Well at least you don’t need to worry about that with me,” I told her.

Gran looked at me. “You never know,” she said, taking my arm again. “Let’s grab a bite to eat – there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Sounds serious. Don’t you want to spend your voucher first?”

“It can wait.”

We went to our usual café on the harbourside – our favourite place for people-watching. We ordered our toasted sandwiches and coffees then sat outside watching boats of various sizes chugging along the water – or rather, much more interesting, the people on board them.

“So,” I ventured, with a feeling of apprehension. Was Gran going to tell me she was ill? “What’s this serious thing you want to talk to me about?” “You,” she said. “Me?” I hadn’t expected that. “Yes.” Gran frowned. “I’m worried about you. I know you’ve been through a few rough months since you and Josh split up – his loss, if you ask me – but that doesn’t give you the excuse to languish in a job you don’t like and tread water for the rest of your life.

“You are a very good-looking and uniquely talented person, Nat –”

“Yeah, yeah. I think you might be slightly biased there, Gran,” I told her

“Let’s grab a BITE TO EAT. I need to TALK TO YOU about SOMETHING…”

with a smile. “Even if it is all true.”

“– And I can’t bear to think that you’re wasting your life,” she went on. “You need to quit your job at the call centre and do something you really want to do while you’re still young.”

“Interesting you should say that because you know that fashion course in London I told you about a while back?” “Eh, yes?” “Well, I applied – and I’ve got a place, starting in September.”

“How exciting! Why didn’t you mention it?” Gran asked.

“Ah, I have my secrets, too,” I told her. “Actually, I was worried you might

be upset because it means I’ll be moving away and we won’t be able to have our Saturday trips out any more.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m thrilled for you,” declared Gran. “I’m already looking forward to visiting you in London – if you’re not too embarrassed to be seen with an old lady.”

I blinked away tears. I hated it when she talked about being old. I couldn’t bear to think of a time when she wouldn’t be around.

“You’re not old,” I told her emphatically. “You’ll never be old. You’ve got a young soul – and I’d absolutely love for you to come and see me in London.”

I squeezed her hand and then we got up and fell into a hug.

“I’ve decided that I’m not going to have presents for my birthday or Christmas any more,” Gran announced. “Instead, I’m going to ask for donations for my favourite new charity – the Visit Nathan Webster In London Fund.

“I’ll need money for trains and hotels – though I’ll be staying with you till you find a new boyfriend.

“So many shops,” she added with a wicked grin and a wink.