Two Of A Kind

Nina’s grandad was so stubborn, it drove her mad. But wasn’t she just the same?

NINA stood in the doorway of the sitting-room. “Hi, Grandad.” He was sitting in an armchair watching television. He was still wearing his dressing-gown and there were several dirty cups on the coffee table.

“Are you OK?” she asked softly.

“Oh, hello, love.” He glanced up, blinking. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work? What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock. I’ve a patient up the road so I thought I’d pop in and see how you are.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not dressed.” “It’s only ten o’clock.” He tugged defensively at the cord of his dressing-gown.

They both knew that up till a few weeks ago he’d never have been still in his dressing-gown at ten. He’d been an early riser his entire life.

Nina knew the more she pressed him the more he would fight her. They were very similar, according to her mum. Stubborn as mules.

She smiled at him. “I’ve some news, actually.”

“What news?” There was a flicker of interest in his eyes.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s wrong. Are you in pain? The doctor said you should be exercising that new knee.”

“I’m not in pain. Don’t go all district nurse on me.” He frowned. “What’s the news? Have you found a decent man? About time.”

At least she had his interest.

“Tim’s moved back. He’s working at the pharmacy.”

“I bet he’s married with three kids.”

“He’s single and childless,” she said, feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction in contradicting him.

Grandad had liked Tim. When they’d split up he’d said she was off her head.

“Your turn,” she said. “Tell me the truth. Is your knee still playing you up? It’s not like you to be sitting around and not looking after yourself.”

“It plays up a bit.” He shifted in his chair. “I can’t see the point in getting up, if you want to know. It’s not like I’ve anywhere I need to be, is it?”

She took his hand. “What about the allotment?”

“I passed it back to the council when my knee got bad. There’s a waiting list – it wasn’t fair to keep it when I was never there.”

“I thought Bert was keeping an eye on it for you?”

That’s what he’d told her. Mum was right. They were so alike. Add pride and pig-headedness to the mix and you wouldn’t have been doing either of them a disservice.

Grandad would never have admitted he couldn’t cope. He’d just quietly withdrawn. As she’d done when Tim had left.

“Get yourself dressed and I’ll have a tidy up.”

“I thought you had somewhere to be,” he grumbled, but he stood up, muttering as he headed for the bedroom.

The first time Nina saw Tim behind the counter of the pharmacy it was a shock. She almost left but he’d caught her expression.

“Nina, can I have a word?”

They went into the back room.

“It’s going to be tricky avoiding each other. I hoped we could put the past behind us. Be civil, if not friends . . .” He tailed off.

“Civil would be good,” she agreed, meeting his dark gaze.

It had got better since then. It was hard to avoid each other and slowly Nina had thawed towards him, noting he was making a huge effort.

The other pharmacist, Angie, told her what had happened.

“She left him.” Disapproval was obvious in her voice. “Went off with her married boss. No surprise, given her track record of chasing after men who aren’t single!”

Nina didn’t comment. She had, with difficulty, put Tim Hawkins out of her mind 18 months ago. She didn’t want to get entangled again.

Nevertheless, she still found it very easy to talk to him. He’d always cared a great deal about his patients.

The subject of her grandfather came up when she was collecting his prescription for some new medication.

“How’s he doing? Is he completely retired or does he still have anything to do with the smithy?”

“Completely retired. Well, he is seventy-three. He didn’t stop shoeing horses until his knees got bad.”

“He must miss being around horses. That’s a vocation, not just a job.”

Later, as she was driving between patients, Nina thought about Tim’s words. He was right. Of course Grandad missed horses – he’d spent his life around them, outdoors. No wonder he was depressed, being stuck inside.

It couldn’t help that his house overlooked a field belonging to the riding stables which was home to two old grey mares. It must be hard, seeing them every day, almost in touching distance.

Was there any way she could get him involved with horses again? One day when she called round it was to find him up and dressed and whistling in the kitchen.

“Wow,” she said. “I’m guessing the new medication’s working?”

“Nothing to do with medication,” he told her smugly. “I had to go on a mercy mission.”

He gestured towards the window.

“One of the mares had colic. I spotted it this morning – couldn’t find the stable’s number so I had to nip up there smartish. Couldn’t hang around – they can die with colic.”

“Was she OK?” Nina looked out of the window. There was only one horse in the field today.

“Yep, they caught it in time.” He puffed out his chest. “Jess’ll be fine, thanks to me.”

The incident gave Nina an idea.

“I see what you mean,” the owner of the stables said when Nina had outlined her plan. “But I’m not sure what he could do to help us, really, although it was very good of him to let us know about Jess being ill.”

Nina left feeling deflated. Her next step was the pharmacy and she found herself pouring the story out to Angie and Tim.

“What was I thinking? They don’t want an old man hanging around the stables – they have health and safety to consider, don’t they?”

Tim frowned.

“True, but it’s a great idea, getting him involved with horses. I may be able to help.”

He broke off.

“If you don’t mind, Nina?” Part of her did mind. But this wasn’t about her – it was about Grandad. She nodded.

“Good,” Tim said. “I’ll call round and see you on the way back from work.”

She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when he didn’t turn up that night. Clearly he’d changed his mind.

But the following evening, as she was putting out the recycling, she saw his car draw up by the gate.

“Hi, sorry I didn’t come yesterday. I got caught up with deliveries. Is now a good time?”

It was odd having him in the house again. For a long time after they’d split up his ghost had been there, haunting every room.

“Before I tell you my idea,” he began, “I want to clear the air a bit between us. OK?”

She nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” he said over coffee. “About what happened between us. It’s the biggest regret of my life.”

Really? Swapping a dumpy district nurse for a glamorous legal secretary?

“Alison was a mistake. I knew it as soon as I left the village.”

“It took you a long time to come back.” It was hard to keep the hurt out of her voice.

He gave her a direct look. “You’d already made it clear how you felt.”

That was true. She’d told him childhood sweetheart relationships didn’t work. You should never marry the girl next door. It was too easy.

She’d wanted him to fight for her, not just take her at her word. Then they’d rowed about something she couldn’t even remember and she had virtually pushed him into the waiting Alison’s arms.

Pig-headed and awkward didn’t come close to covering it.

“I know me apologising doesn’t change anything,” Tim said quietly.

She nodded, feeling regret skitter around her heart.

“Tell me about your plan for Grandad.”

“A friend of Mum’s is involved with Riding for the Disabled. They have a stand at the country show and I wondering if your dad might like to help.

“It might just be handing out leaflets, but they’ll have a horse or two there. It would get his foot back in the door.

“To life” he added softly. “Not just horses.”

Ten days later Nina, Mum and Grandad stood by a roped-off arena watching a ploughing competition. The air smelled of horse and old leather.

“Look at those straight furrows,” Grandad breathed as a man and two Shires went by and for a moment they were caught up in the sounds of the past: the jingle of harness, the thud of the huge hooves and the squeaks and creaks of the plough.

“Do they still use horsedrawn ploughs?” Nina asked idly.

“Sometimes. In places you can’t get a tractor. Progress means not chucking the baby out with the bath water.” He winked. “Strikes me that lots of things we thought had gone for ever haven’t.”

He gave her a pointed look which she ignored.

“How are you getting on with the Riding for the Disabled people? Can you help them on a more permanent basis?”

“A man with my experience is always handy. That’s what they said. You might want to pop by the stall and meet Elizabeth – she’s the organiser. Come about six.”

There was no sign of Elizabeth when Nina reached the stall. But Tim was there – why wasn’t she surprised? Grandad, who’d been chatting to him, suddenly became busy.

They watched him carry a hay net over to the horse box and string it up, hardly limping at all.

Nina swallowed a lump in her throat.

“He looks much happier. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Do you feel we’ve been set up? I take it he asked you to come?” She nodded.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“I don’t want you to.” She paused. “Tim, about what happened between us. It wasn’t just you. I know I pushed you away.”

A muscle twitched in his face.

“I’m sorry things worked out as they did, too,” she said at last.

Something flickered in his eyes. Perhaps relief that Nina was finally accepting her part in their break up.

She’d been quick to take the moral high ground, pointing out that he was the one who’d left.

Well, he had left, but not until she’d told him there was no future for them.

For a moment they stood together, peaceful in the sunset-streaked evening. Beyond Tim’s head she could see Grandad. He was talking to a woman with streaked red and grey hair.

“That’s Elizabeth.” Tim smiled. “They seem to be getting on rather well, don’t they?”

Nina marvelled.

“And I thought it was just the horses that had perked him up. He’s always said his romancing days are behind him.”

“It’s never too late,” Tim said, and went a little pink.

She took his outstretched hand where her fingers linked comfortably with his. Just as they always had. n