Well, there you are! cried Alex. I knew it! The last word should always belong to the man.
That morning, the grown-up grandson had arrived from London at the Yeomans cottage, whose wedding the old couple had just attended. Alex had come for potatoes, as he always helped his beloved Gran and Granddad plant and dig them up.
So, go on, tell me, Alex, hows life with your dear Emily? Gran asked with a bright curiosity, bustling about near the Aga.
Oh, its all sorts, Gran Alex replied, not keen to elaborate. A bit of this, a bit of that.
Hold on, hold on, Granddad Edward piped up, his brow raised. What do you mean, all sorts? You two already at each other, then?
Not quite arguing yet, admitted Alex. Were still figuring out whos master of the house.
Oh, honestly, Gran chuckled as she stirred her pot, theres nothing to figure out. Its always been clear, hasnt it?
Edward let out a deep guffaw. Everyone knows, the real ruler of a households always the wife.
Oh, hush up came Grans voice from by the oven.
Granddad, youre kidding, arent you? Alex looked at Edward, amazed. Is that just a joke?
Not one bit, Edward retorted. Ask your Gran if you dont believe me. Go on, Martha, tell himwho gets the last word here?
Oh, dont be daft, Gran said, affection in her scold.
No, truly, say it, insisted Edward. Who gets the final sayme or you?
Well, I suppose its usually me, she admitted, trying not to smile.
What! Alexs disbelief was almost comical. I never noticed that. Anyway, I reckon a man should be head of the house.
Dont be so sure, Alex, Granddad chuckled. In a proper family, its not always how you imagine. Here, let me tell you some storiesyoull soon catch on.
Gran groaned theatrically. Here we go. Hell tell the tale of the motorbike now, you just watch.
What motorbike? asked Alex, surprised.
Oh, the one rusting away in the shed, Granddad said with relish. It must be a hundred years old by now. You know how your Gran made me buy it?
Gran made you buy it?
Absolutely. She gave me her own hard-earned pounds. But that was after another story entirely.
Once, Id saved enoughjust enoughfor a motorbike with a sidecar. I told Marthayour granI wanted it, said it would help cart potatoes from the allotment. Back in the day, we had to haul them from the field ourselves.
She wouldnt have it. Wanted a colour television instead. Back then, they werent cheap, mind. Said I could keep carting potatoes by bicycle, just as I always hadsling the sack on the crossbar, and off you go. Fair enough, I said, your word is always final. So we bought the telly.
And the bike? Alex asked, confused.
We got the bike too Gran sighed. But much later. First, Granddad put his back out, and I was left to cart all the potatoes alone, nearly every sack. Once we sold the pigs in November, I handed him all the money and told him: Go on then, off to the county town for that bike with the sidecar.
And the next autumn, wed saved again, Edward continued. I thought, lets put a new bathhouse upwe needed one, the old one left by my parents had completely rotted. Your Gran wanted new furniture instead. Wanted the sitting room to look like other peoples. Fine, I said, your word is law. We bought the furniture.
And come the spring, the old bathhouse collapsed, Gran finished, wryly. Too much snow, the roof caved in. Thats when I decided, from then on, its as your Granddad says.
See! Alex declared triumphantly. Right as rain! The last word should belong to the man.
Oh, thats not it at all, Alex! Granddad laughed. I only ever do things after I ask herFancy if I move the fireplace round? Ill say. If she gives the nod, then I do it. If not, well, it stays as it is.
And after all that, I always reply, however you like, love, do as you think best, Gran agreed.
So, Alex, Granddad concluded, in every case, the last word goes to the wife. Savvy?
Alex was struck silent, then suddenly burst out laughing. When hed finished, a thoughtful look passed over his face, then slowly bloomed into a smile.
All right, Granddad. Now I understand. Ill go home and say, Fine, Emily, lets take a holiday in Spain, just as you want. The car? Well, I suppose itll just have to wait for repairs. The gearbox is stuck, needs changing.
If the car gives up, so be it. Well just take the bus to work all winter, wake up an hour earlier. Whats the bother in that Isnt that right?
Bingo! Granddad nodded, cheerful as ever. In a year or two, youll find your own way to harmony.
And the family will always run best when the wife is in charge. Makes a mans life easier, I guarantee Ive learned that in my bones.Gran wiped her hands on her apron, stepped closer, and pressed a warm kiss to Alexs cheek. Youll both discover your own dance, love. As long as theres laughter and you listen to one another, youll muddle throughjust like us.
Outside, in the garden rows, June sun sparkled on potato leaves ready for harvest. Granddad put an arm around Grans shoulders, and Alex watched, noticing how her hand slipped quietly into his.
He grinned, imagining Emilys face when he told her the storyhow harmony wasnt about who spoke last, but who listened first. For now, he stooped by the basket and began gathering potatoes with the old pair, roots and all, the three of them together in the soft morning lightwhere the loudest voices were the birds and, quite happily, no one needed the last word at all.
