“Mum, maybe we should just let Gran wander off and get lost? It’d be better for everyone,” Molly said defiantly.
“Lock the door when you leave, love,” her mum sighed, getting up from the table.
“Mum, how many times? Are you gonna remind me for the rest of my life?” Molly shot back, annoyed.
“Not the rest of your life—just while Gran’s with us. If she gets outside, she’ll wander off and—”
“—and die in a ditch somewhere while we live with the guilt. So what if she does?” Molly challenged.
“What do you mean, *so what*?” Her mum frowned.
“Let her go. You’re the one who said you can’t stand dealing with her anymore.”
“How can you say that? She might be my mother-in-law, no blood of mine, but she’s still *your* gran!”
“Gran?” Molly narrowed her eyes, like she always did when she was angry. “Where was she when *her son* walked out on us? When she refused to look after me—her own granddaughter? She never cared how hard you worked just to scrape by—she even blamed *you* for Dad leaving—”
“Stop it!” Her mum’s voice cracked. “I shouldn’t have told you any of this.” She rubbed her temples. “I’ve failed you if you’ve got no kindness left, not even for family. It terrifies me—is this how you’ll treat *me* when I’m old? What’s happened to you? You used to be so soft-hearted—you’d bring home every stray kitten you found. Gran’s not a stray, Molly.” Her mum shook her head. “She’s already suffering enough. Your dad walked out on her too.”
“Just go to work, you’ll be late. I’ll lock the door—promise,” Molly muttered, guilty now.
“Right. Before we say things we’ll regret.” But her mum didn’t move.
“Mum… I’m sorry, but it hurts to look at you. You’re skin and bone. You’re only forty, but you walk like an old woman, shuffling like you can barely lift your feet. You’re exhausted *all the time*—why are you looking at me like that? Who else will tell you the truth but your own daughter?” Molly hadn’t meant to raise her voice again.
“Thanks for that. Just make sure she doesn’t leave the gas on or flood the bathroom.”
“See? That’s what I mean! We’re stuck here because of her—no life of our own. Mum, let’s put her in a home. At least she’d be looked after properly. She doesn’t even know what’s going on—”
“Not *again*.”
“It’d be better for everyone—*especially* her.” Molly didn’t notice her mum’s rising anger.
“I don’t want to hear another word. I’m *not* sending her away. How long does she even have left? Let her stay here.”
“She’ll probably outlive *you*. Just go to work. I’ll stay, I’ll lock the door—I *promise*,” Molly snapped.
Her mum sighed. “Sorry. I’ve dumped too much on you. All your friends are out having fun, and here you are, playing carer.”
They hadn’t noticed Gran’s door was open. She’d heard everything—not that she’d remember any of it.
When her mum left, Molly peeked into her old bedroom, now Gran’s.
“Gran, need anything?”
Gran’s vacant stare gave no answer.
“Come on, I’ll give you a sweet.” Molly helped her up and led her to the kitchen.
“Who are you?” Gran blinked at her, confused.
“Drink your tea.” Molly sighed, placing a wrapped toffee on the table.
Gran loved sweets. She and her mum hid them, rationing one per cup of tea now. Molly watched as Gran fumbled with the wrapper. Beneath thinning grey hair, her scalp showed pale. Molly looked away.
Gran used to dye her hair, tease it into big curls, paint her lips bright red. Men had always noticed her—until her mind started slipping.
Molly couldn’t tell what she felt anymore—pity, resentment? A knock at the door cut her thoughts short.
“Mum forget something?” She went to answer.
But it was Jake, her boyfriend. Her mum didn’t approve, so he only came over when she was gone.
“Hey. Why so early? Mum just left,” Molly whispered.
“I know. She didn’t see me.”
“*Milly!*” Gran’s voice carried from the kitchen.
“Who’s Milly?” Jake asked.
“That’s what she calls Mum—thinks she’s her daughter. Take her back to bed. She’s having a ‘good day.’” Molly nudged Jake toward the bathroom.
“No one’s here.” Molly returned to the kitchen to find an empty cup and a sweet wrapper.
“I want tea,” Gran announced.
“But—” Molly swallowed her frustration.
Gran forgot fast—especially the last few minutes. But her distant past? Crystal clear. Mostly, she just mixed everything up.
Now, was she angling for another sweet or genuinely forgetting she’d just had tea? Molly gave up, refilled her cup, and handed her another toffee.
Gran struggled with the wrapper. Once the tea was gone, Molly guided her back to bed.
“Sleep now,” she said, shutting the door.
Jake crept out of the bathroom. “Coast clear?”
“Yeah. Kitchen.” Molly checked the lock, then followed him.
They sat close, sharing earbuds, music low. Molly swayed slightly, eyes closed—until she realised the front door was open.
She bolted up. “*Jake!*”
Gran was gone.
“I didn’t lock it—Mum’ll think I did it *on purpose*!” Molly’s voice shook.
“Why would she?”
“I *told* her today it’d be better if Gran got lost! She’ll think I *let* her out!”
“Alright, coat on. We’ll find her—she can’t have gone far,” Jake said.
Molly checked the coat rack—Gran’s quilted jacket and boots were still there.
“She left in *slippers and a nightdress*?”
“Maybe she’s with a neighbour? You check flats; I’ll scout the street,” Jake said, already halfway down the stairs.
No one answered their doors. Molly gave up and ran outside. Jake was searching bushes, the playground—nothing.
“Nowhere. Split up—you go left, I’ll go right. Meet back here.” Jake sprinted off.
Molly checked the bus stop, alleyways—nothing. Had it been half an hour? More? How far could a confused old woman in slippers get?
“We should call the police,” she said when they regrouped.
“Wait—think. Where did she always talk about? Favourite places?” Jake panted.
Molly drew a blank.
“Alright, widen the search. You head toward the school; I’ll go the other way.”
Streetlights flickered, leaving patches of darkness. Molly hurried past shadows, heart racing. Then she remembered—Gran’s story about forgetting her exercise book at school, climbing out a window…
The school gates were unlocked. Rounding the building, she spotted a group of lads laughing—and Gran in her nightdress, clutching at an empty sweet wrapper one kept teasing her with.
“Oi! Leave her alone!” Molly shouted.
The boys turned.
“Who’s this then?”
“Another looney?”
“You want a sweet too, love?” The one with the wrapper sauntered toward her.
Molly backed up. The others closed in, boxing her against the fence.
Jake’s voice cut through. “*Get away from her!*”
A scuffle—Molly kicked free, grabbed a plank, swung it. A yelp. Someone shouted, “*Police!*”—the boys bolted.
A couple from across the road called, “You alright, love?”
Molly helped Jake up, then approached Gran, who shrank back.
“Gran, it’s me. Let’s go home.”
“Who are you? Where’s Billy? He’ll be home from school soon—”
“Billy’s grown up, Gran. Come on.”
Back home, Molly tucked her in, made tea.
“Jake—your face. All bloody,” she said in the hallway.
“S’alright. Gran’s safe—that’s what matters. You were brave.” He smiled weakly.
“I was terrified. If you hadn’t—”
“It’s fine. My fault—should’ve locked the door.”
Later, at the kitchen table, Molly replayed the night. The guilt if Gran *had* been lost… The fight with her mum… How hard it must be, caring for *her* mum first, now an ex-husband’s mother…
Maybe Gran’s fading mind was mercy—sparing her from facing the pastAs the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, Molly finally understood that love wasn’t always easy, but it was always worth holding onto.
