“Mum, maybe we should just let Gran go and get lost? It’d be better for everyone,” Lily said defiantly.
“Lily, don’t forget to lock the door,” her mum sighed, pushing back from the kitchen table.
“Mum, how many times? Are you going to remind me for the rest of my life?” the fifteen-year-old snapped.
“Not the rest of your life—just while Gran’s living with us. If she wanders out, she’ll get lost and—”
“And die under a hedge, and we’ll feel guilty forever… Mum, maybe that’s not so bad?” Lily challenged.
“What do you mean?” her mum asked, confused.
“Just let her go. You’re the one who said you’re sick of dealing with her.”
“How can you say that? She’s my mother-in-law—not blood, but she’s still your gran.”
“Gran?” Lily narrowed her eyes the way she always did when angry. “Where was she when her precious son walked out on us? When she refused to babysit her own granddaughter? She never spared you a thought when you were working yourself to the bone. And she blamed *you* when Dad left—”
“Enough!” her mum cut in sharply. “I shouldn’t have told you any of this.” She exhaled. “I’ve failed as a mother if you’ve no kindness left for family. It frightens me. Will you treat me the same when I’m old? What’s happened to you? You were always such a caring girl—bringing home every stray cat or dog. But Gran’s not a puppy…” Her mum shook her head wearily. “She’s suffered enough. Your father abandoned her too.”
“Just go to work, Mum, or you’ll be late. I promise I’ll lock the door.” Lily looked up, guilty.
“Alright. We’ll only say things we regret…” But her mum didn’t move.
“Mum, I’m sorry, but it hurts to look at you. Skin and bones. You’re only forty, but you shuffle like an old woman, always exhausted. Why are you staring at me like that? Who else is going to tell you the truth?” Lily didn’t realise her voice had risen again.
“Thanks for that. Just make sure she doesn’t leave the gas on or flood the bathroom.”
“See? This is what I mean—we’re chained to her. No life of our own. Mum, let’s put her in a care home. She’d be looked after properly. She doesn’t understand anything anymore—”
“Not this again,” her mum interrupted.
“It’d be better for everyone—her most of all,” Lily pressed, ignoring her mother’s frustration.
“I won’t listen to this. I’m not sending her away. However long she’s got left, she stays here.”
“She’ll outlive us both. Just go to work. I’m not going anywhere—I’ll lock up, I promise,” Lily repeated bitterly.
“Sorry. I’ve put too much on you… All your friends are out enjoying themselves, and you’re stuck watching Gran.”
They spoke without noticing Gran’s bedroom door ajar. She must’ve heard everything, though she likely didn’t understand—or would forget in minutes.
When her mum left, Lily went into what used to be her room, now Gran’s.
“Gran, do you need anything?” she asked.
Gran’s eyes were blank.
“Come on, I’ll give you a sweet.” Lily helped her up and led her to the kitchen.
“Who are you?” Gran stared at her vacantly.
“Drink your tea.” Lily sighed and set a wrapped toffee in front of her.
Gran loved sweets. She and her mum hid them, rationing one per tea. Lily watched as Gran fumbled with the wrapper. Through thinning grey hair, patches of pale scalp showed. Lily turned away.
Once, Gran had dyed and styled her hair, painted her lips scarlet, arched her brows. Lily remembered the powdery scent of her perfume. Men used to glance at her—before her mind began to slip.
Lily couldn’t untangle her feelings—pity, resentment, regret? A sharp knock at the door interrupted her.
“Mum must’ve forgotten something.” She went to answer.
But it was her mate, sixth-former James. Her mum disapproved of him, so he timed his visits.
“Hey. Why so early? Mum just left,” Lily whispered.
“I know. She didn’t see me.”
“Millie!” Gran’s voice carried from the kitchen.
“Who’s Millie?” James asked.
“That’s what she calls Mum—thinks she’s her daughter. I’ll take her back. Hide in the loo—she’s having a rare ‘clear’ day.” Lily nudged him toward the bathroom.
“No one’s there.” Lily returned to find an empty cup and wrapper on the table.
“I want tea,” Gran announced.
“But—” Lily gave up explaining.
Gran forgot quickly—especially recent things. Yet she remembered the distant past vividly, though she mixed up faces. Some days, she seemed sharper—briefly.
Lily couldn’t tell if Gran was scheming for another sweet or genuinely forgot she’d just had tea. She sighed, poured another cup, and slid over another toffee.
Gran struggled with the wrapper. Once the tea was gone, Lily guided her back to bed.
“Sleep now,” she murmured, shutting the door.
James peered out from the bathroom.
“Can I come out?”
“Yeah. Kitchen.” Lily checked the lock, then followed.
They sat close, sharing earbuds, music low. Lily swayed slightly, eyes shut—until she noticed Gran wasn’t in her room.
When she went to see James out, the front door stood open.
“The door… I didn’t lock it. She’s gone. Mum’ll think I did it on purpose,” Lily gasped, near tears.
“Why would she think that?” James asked.
“You don’t get it—I literally said today it’d be better if she got lost. Mum’ll think I let her out to spite her.”
“Right, grab your coat—we’ll find her. She can’t have gone far,” James said.
Lily checked the hook—Gran’s quilted coat hung there. Her boots too.
“Did she leave in slippers and a dressing gown?” Lily stared, stunned.
“Maybe she’s with neighbours? Went to the landing, got confused… I’ll check outside—you knock on doors,” James said, already rushing downstairs.
No one answered. Lily gave up and ran out. James was scanning the estate—under bushes, by the playground slide…
“Nothing. Let’s try nearby streets. You go right, I’ll go left. Whoever finds her first calls. Meet back here.” James sprinted off.
Lily even checked the bus stop. No sign. How long had Gran been gone? Half an hour? Where could she get in slippers?
“We should call the police,” Lily said.
“Wait. Think—where did she used to go? What did she talk about most?” James panted.
Lily strained to remember, then shook her head.
“Broaden the search. You check near the school, I’ll go the other way.”
Streetlights flickered unevenly. Lily hurried past dark patches, jumpy at every rustle. Then it hit her—Gran’s story about forgetting her exercise book once, climbing out a window to fetch it.
Though Gran hadn’t gone to this school, she always mentioned it passing by. Lily shoved the gate—unlocked. The building was a squat “U” shape. Rounding a corner, she spotted lads laughing at something. Gran stood in her pale blue dressing gown, centre of their circle. One dangled a sweet wrapper, yanking it back when she reached. They roared.
“Oi! Leave her alone!” Lily shouted.
The lads turned.
“Look, another one!”
“She yours, love?”
“Run off from the nut-house together?”
One swaggered toward her, grinning. “Want a sweet?”
The others fanned out, blocking Gran. They weren’t laughing now—eyes sharp, feeding off Lily’s fear. She backed into the fence. The gate was too far. Then they lunged.
Lily flailed—there were three of them. One pinned her arms; the others pressed close, hands grabbing—
“Get off her!” James’s voice cracked like a whip.
Two backed off. One still held Lily. A scuffle broke out. Lily kicked his shin—he yelped, freeing her. She grabbed a broken plank, swung at the nearest lad—too low, hitting his back.
He cursed, lunged—she bolted for the gate.
“Over here! We’ve called the police!” A couple stood beyond the fence.
At “police,” the lads scattered. Lily helped James up—his lip was split. They found Gran trembling.
“Gran, it’s me. Let’s go home.”
“Who’s you? I’m waiting for my Bobby—school’s out soon…”
They walked home in silence, the weight of the night settling over them, knowing some things could never be unsaid but also that love, however complicated, was still the truest thing they had.
