In Her Own Way

What was right for one person was not necessarily right for another . . .

MANDY dropped her school bag in the hall and took off her shoes without undoing them. With a big sigh, she headed into the kitchen.

Diane gave Mandy a hug but her granddaughter felt like a cardboard cut-out, stiff arms by her sides.

Mandy took a seat at the table and wriggled out of her blazer. She hung it on the back of the chair.

“You’re in luck,” Diane said, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, neatening her stylish cut. “I’ve got your favourite – chocolate digestives.”

“The calorie-free ones?” Mandy joked, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Diane placed the plate on the pine table and poured them a glass of home-made lemonade each.

She loved the orange hues in the wood. Like the yellow walls, they were so cheerful.

Her late husband, John, hadn’t been a fan, insisting the room reminded him of his least favourite weeds, dandelions.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was thinking about your grandad. We were so different in lots of ways. I’m amazed we were married for forty years.”

“Like me and Megan.” Mandy sighed. “She’s at university making Mum and Dad proud by becoming a doctor.

“And here’s me, approaching my A-levels, without a clue what I’m going to do after.”

“But the world’s your oyster,” Diane said.

“One that’s tightly shut.” Mandy caught her gran’s eye.

“Ignore me.” She sighed again. “I didn’t mean to be such a downer. I’m just having a bad day.” “Lots of schoolwork?” “No more than usual.” On closer inspection, Diane noticed Mandy’s puffy red eyes. “How’s Krunal?” Mandy’s cheeks pinked up. They’d been dating for almost a year.

“He told me to say hello. We’re going to the cinema at the weekend. I don’t see much of him during the week, since he’s always studying.”

“That must be difficult.” “Not really. I’d never tell him this, but if I’m honest, he’s a good influence!”

“You’ll miss him when he goes to university,” Diane said, gently probing.

Mandy’s chair scraped the floor as she stood up.

“Sorry, Gran. I . . . I have to go. I’ve got loads of homework, and Patch to walk. I’ll visit again tomorrow after netball.”

Then she was gone.

****

Despite her evening swim, Diane hardly slept that night. Thoughts of the past kept tugging at her.

When she was a little younger than Mandy, around 50 years ago, she could never keep up with her clever friends in class.

Eventually, she’d given up.

Mum and Dad hadn’t understood why she’d messed up that last year, being suspended for smoking and bunking off to go into town and hang around the record store.

She’d loved listening to the Beatles.

The world outside school seemed like a big, psychedelic, exciting place. Man had even landed on the moon.

Diane left school with only one O-level.

But when she’d failed her exams, Diane had felt her life was over; as if school had, after all, been the ticket to getting out of the rut she felt stuck in.

Diane turned over in bed. Should she ring Mandy’s parents and tell them what had happened?

She decided to wait and see if her granddaughter did visit tomorrow.

****

The next afternoon Diane was in the back garden, and just as the doorbell rang she dropped the shovel on her foot. She cried out.

“Gran?” Mandy appeared on the patio, still in her PE kit. She hurried over and helped Diane to a chair.

“Clumsy me! I was hurrying to finish tidying this border before you arrived.

“My painting lesson ran late this morning, and I still haven’t caught up.”

Mandy sat in a chair next to her. She talked about the new thriller show about a mysterious artist she was watching.

“So, did you get that homework done?” Diane asked eventually. Mandy looked sheepish. “Sorry I left in a flap yesterday.

“It’s all the university talk – everyone is going on about the amazing cities they’ll be living in.” Mandy sighed.

Now we’re getting to the crux of it, Diane thought.

“University is right for Megan – she always wanted to be a doctor – and Krunal is a whizz at chemistry. But I’m not passionate about . . . well, any one subject.

“I’d love to work for myself. Building my own business sounds like it would be so rewarding. But . . .” Her voice wavered.

“I haven’t got much more of an idea than that. So I’m going to be stuck in this little village whilst they all move on.”

Diane’s eyes pricked. Mandy was scared about the future.

Looking back to that age of having no responsibilities, the freedom to do what you wanted . . . It seemed so exciting to her now.

But Diane knew it could feel different at the time, with adulthood looming.

The future seemed a frighteningly empty void if you had no plans.

After her poor O-levels, Diane’s dad had caught her sobbing. She’d braced herself for sharp words. Instead, he’d

sat down and stroked her hair.

“Life likes to throw challenges at us, Di,” he’d said gruffly. “Otherwise what’s the point?

“I’m no Einstein but I love animals. That’s why I’ve done OK with my job at the stables. Work with what you’ve got – that’s my advice.”

Diane studied Mandy’s drooping shoulders, the eyes that lacked their usual mischievous twinkle.

She had breathed a sigh of relief when her daughter grew up and she’d thought herself free of the heartaches of bringing up a child – the tears after grazed knees or friendship fallouts.

No-one warned you the heartache cut just as deep with grandchildren.

“I haven’t even started my life, and already I feel like I’m being left behind,” Mandy said.

“Everyone keeps asking me what I’m going to do.”

Diane could relate to that. When she retired, not long after John passed away, people wanted to know her plans.

Would she travel? Take up new hobbies? Diane didn’t know.

But then she’d recalled her father’s words – work with what you’ve got.

Diane had always loved plants and the outdoors so set herself the challenge of redesigning the garden.

She listened whilst Mandy talked about her friends and the careers they hoped would follow.

“Most people don’t have one job for life these days – even if they’ve been to university,” Diane cut in gently.

“You could just take any position to start with, and see where it leads.”

“What was your very first job?” Mandy asked.

“As you know, I didn’t do so well at school. But Mrs Green next door was assistant manager at the local Woolworths and kindly got me a job in the office, counting cash.

“It was a job everyone else disliked, but it gave me such a sense of satisfaction to see all the money neatly lined up.

“That led to me wanting to work in a bank – I would never have dreamed of that when I was your age!

“I re-sat my O-levels, and that was when my dyslexia was picked up for the first time.” Diane gave a wry smile.

“Still, you’d be surprised what you can do if you set your mind to it. What would you say your strengths were?”

“You know that expression Dad uses? ‘A jack of all trades and master of none’. That’s me.

“I like cooking, cleaning, organising; I can build shelves and wire a plug.”

Mandy had always loved helping her parents build flat-pack furniture.

“My teachers have always told me I’m a natural with computers. I love social media. And sport.”

Diane bent down to help a ladybird roll off its back whilst Mandy scrolled down her phone.

Her granddaughter was being too modest. Mandy had initiative. She was good with people – to say nothing of her selfconfidence.

Last year, when the two of them had done a charity hike together, she’d proved she had buckets of perseverance. Mandy’s feet were bleeding by the end, but the blisters hadn’t stopped her.

Diane knew her granddaughter really would be excellent at running her own business.

“My dad had an expression, too,” Diane said. “‘You have to work with what you’ve got’.” She paused. “I used to have a thing for Paul Mccartney.”

Mandy couldn’t help smiling as she put down her mobile.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Dad pointed out that even Paul Mccartney simply worked with what he’d got. Just in his case, he’d got a brilliant singing voice!” Diane watched the ladybird fly away.

“You know, I took a break from my career once. “I was in my early forties, just after your mum left home, around 1996. I wanted to look for a more challenging position.

“It didn’t turn out to be much of a break, though.” Mandy sat more upright. “How come?”

“I visited John’s dad at his care home several afternoons a week, instead of just at the weekends. I cancelled our cleaner. Did all the gardening.

“I’d look after a friend’s young son if her childminder let her down.

“And my next-door neighbour broke her leg. I walked her dog twice a day for a few months.”

“Quite a change from your swanky city life!”

“Yet, in many ways, it was no less rewarding, even though it wasn’t glamorous.

“Actually, it felt good, helping people and making their lives easier.”

Mandy looked at her, pressing her lips tightly together. Worried that she’d said something to upset her again, Diane changed the subject to the weather.

Mandy didn’t really seem to be listening.

****

Mandy draped her blazer neatly over the back of one of the pine chairs.

“I’ve made today’s bake. Your favourite.” “Chocolate brownies?” Mandy nodded and gave Diane a big hug.

“Can I see the hanging baskets you’ve planted? Mum told me about them.”

Diane beamed and they headed into the garden.

She loved this time of year, when the air filled with the sound of birds.

“You’re so clever,” Mandy said, admiring the trailing ivy and perfect balance of leaves and blooms.

“Sorry I haven’t been around for a bit.”

Diane sat down beside her, heart singing as loudly as the birds to see her granddaughter looking much happier.

“So, what’s new, Gran?” “You first. What have I missed?”

“Well . . . I told Mum and Dad not to mention it to you, but . . . I’ve decided to set up my own business.

“After my exams I’ll design the website myself and I’ve already looked into where to advertise.

“When I start getting customers, I’m hoping word of mouth will spread around the village and . . .”

“Mandy!” Diane said, laughing. “Slow down. You haven’t even told me what this business is called.”

“‘Handy Mandy’. I’ll be a freelance personal assistant, doing the jobs working people haven’t got time for.” She fiddled with her friendship bracelet. “What do you think?” “Sweetheart . . . it’s perfect.”

Mandy’s brow relaxed. “I’ll do dog walking, childminding, I’ll visit people’s relatives in care homes.

“I can clean, do ironing, even cooking. I’ll do gardening or DIY jobs.

“Mum is going to help me research pricing, and I’ll fix an hourly rate.

“I’ll get DBS checked so that parents employing me as a childminder know I haven’t got a criminal record.”

“I am so impressed! It sounds as if you’ve done thorough ground work.” Mandy’s eyes shone. “Who knows, after a while I might be able to employ someone to help me!

“Krunal’s aunt has already shown interest in having me as a cleaner when she goes back to work.

“And Mum mentioned it to her hairdresser, who said she could do with some help developing her business online . . .” Mandy chattered on for a good 20 minutes.

“Well, I hope you aren’t going to charge me when you help decorate or do the weeding,” Diane said, pretending to be offended.

“Never, Gran!” Mandy got to her feet and held out a hand.

“After all, you’ve always been there for me, offering help in your own subtle way . . .”

They smiled at each other, before leaving the sunshine to enjoy some brownies. ■