Granny Always Had a Favourite Grandchild — And what about me, Nan? — whispered Kate. — Oh, you’re fine as you are, Kate, look at those rosy cheeks of yours. Walnuts are for brains, you know. Dima needs to study, he’s a man, the family’s hope. You go on and dust the shelves. Girls should get used to housework. — Kate, are you serious? She’s… she’s not got long now. The doctors said days—maybe hours… Dima stood there, twisting his car keys, looking pretty rough. — Deadly serious, Dima. Do you want some tea? — Kate didn’t even turn from her apple chopping for her daughter. — Sit down, I’ll put the kettle on. — Tea? Kate, are you kidding? — He stepped towards her, frustration in his voice. — She’s lying there, tubes everywhere, gasping… She was calling for you this morning. “Where’s Katie?” she kept saying. My heart nearly stopped. You’re really not going? She’s our nan, Kate. This is your last chance, don’t you see? Kate arranged apple slices on a plate and then finally faced him. — She’s your nan. For her, you’re Dima — her pride and joy, the only heir, the precious hope of the family. And for me… I never really existed for her. Do you honestly think I need to say goodbye? What are we meant to talk about, Dima? What am I supposed to forgive her for—or she, me? — Oh, come off it with these childhood grudges! — Dima slammed his keys on the table. — Yes, maybe she loved me more than you. So what? She’s old, she had her quirks. But she’s dying! Don’t be so… hard-hearted. — I’m not hard-hearted, Dima. I just don’t feel anything for her. Go on, you. Sit with her, hold her hand—she needs you a hundred times more than she needs me. You’re her golden boy. So shine for her till the end. Dima stared, turned, and left, slamming the door. Kate sighed, picked up the apples, and went to her daughter’s room. *** Everything in their family had always been neatly divided. No, their parents loved them equally—both Kate and Dima. The house was always lively, laughter, the smell of baking, a bustle of visits and outings. But Granny—Claudia Watson—was a different sort altogether. — Dima, come here, my clever lad, — Granny would call as soon as they arrived on weekends. — Look what I’ve put aside for you. Freshly shelled walnuts! And these, your favourite toffees! Kate, aged seven then, would stand watching as granny reached deep into the mahogany cabinet for the precious bag. — And me, Granny? — she’d ask quietly. Claudia Watson would cast a prickly glance in her direction. — You’re all right, Kathleen. Those cheeks prove it, don’t they? Walnuts are for clever boys; Dima needs him some brains—he’s a man, the support of the family. You go on and do the dusting. Girls should learn to be useful. Dima, blushing, would take the treats and sidle away, while Kate fetched the dusters. Funny thing was, she never even minded. Young Kate just accepted it like the weather. Some days it rained, and Granny loved Dima best. Life was like that. Usually, her brother waited in the hall. — Here, — he’d press half the toffees and walnuts into her hand. — Just don’t eat them in front of her, she’ll only grumble. — You need them more, for your brain, — Kate would smile. — Oh, stuff that, — Dima would pull a face. — She’s a bit tapped, anyway. Come on, eat up quick. They’d crunch their contraband together on the stairs to the attic. Dima always shared. Always. Even when Granny would slip him money “for ice cream” behind Mum’s back, he’d run to Kate: — Hey, that’s two cones and enough left for a bubble gum sticker! Wanna go? Her brother was always the shield from Granny’s chill. His love more than made up for the shortfall—so much so that Kate barely even noticed she was missing anything. Years passed. Claudia Watson grew old. When Dima turned eighteen, she solemnly announced she was leaving him her spare flat in the centre. — The pillar of the family should have his own place, — she declared. — So he brings home a wife and needn’t sponge off others. Mum just sighed—she knew her mother’s fierce ways and never argued. But later that evening, she sat on Kate’s bed. — Love, don’t you fret… Your dad and I see it all. Here’s what we’ve decided: the money we’ve saved for a bigger house and for a car—we’re giving it to you. A first step towards a place of your own. It’s only fair. — Oh Mum, honestly—Dima needs the flat, he and Irina are getting married. I’ll manage in the halls. — No, love. Your gran’s stuck in her ways, but we’re your parents—it’s wrong for one child to get more than the other. So take it, and don’t argue. But Kate didn’t take it. Dima moved into Gran’s flat the minute he married, and their family house felt suddenly spacious. Kate took his old room, filled it with her books and art, and tasted for the first time the joy of a space filled with equal love. Inheritance never got between her and her brother. If anything, Dima felt awkward. — Pop round to ours, — he’d say, dropping by. — Irina’s made cakes. Gran keeps asking if I’ve wasted “her money” on your hobbies. — And what did you say? — Told her I’d blown the lot on fruit machines and fancy gin, — Dima would laugh. — She huffed for ages, then said, “Katie’s led you astray!” — Naturally, — Kate would grin. — Who else? *** When Kate married Alex and had a baby, housing became an issue. Once more, their mother worked wonders. — Listen, kids, — she said. — We have a three-bed. Dima’s got his flat. You two are renting. Let’s swap: we’ll trade ours for a one-bed and a two-bed. Your dad and I will have the one-bed, Kate, you and Alex the two-bed. — Mum, — Dima interrupted. — I don’t want any share of our old house. Not a penny. Gran’s flat is plenty for me. Let Kate have everything—she needs it, new family and all. — Dima, really? — said Alex, amazed. — That’s a lot of money. Are you sure? — Sure. Kate and I have always split everything. She’s put up with so much because of Gran. Not another word. That’s final. Kate cried that day. Not over square feet, but because her brother was the best person she’d ever know. They swapped the flats. Life carried on. Mum often visited to help with her granddaughter. Dima, Irina, and their boys would come every weekend. Claudia Watson lived alone. Dima brought groceries, fixed things, and listened to endless complaints about her health and “ungrateful Katie”. — Has she ever rung? Has she ever checked on me? — Gran would huff. — You never wanted to know her, Gran, — Dima replied gently. — Twenty years and you never said a kind word—why would she call? — I was just trying to raise her right! — she’d retort. — A woman ought to know her place! And now she’s ended up with the flat, forced myself and her mum out! Dima could only sigh. Explaining was pointless. *** Kate sat in the kitchen, memories drifting through. Granny brushing her hand aside from the jam. Praising Dima’s dodgy drawings, walking past Kate’s prize certificates in silence. She was the queen at Dima’s wedding, never showed for Kate’s—said she was ill. — Mum, why don’t we visit Nana Claudia? — her daughter poked her head in. — Uncle Dima says she’s really poorly. — Nana Claudia only wants to see Uncle Dima, love, — Kate smoothed her daughter’s hair. — That’s just how she likes it. — Is she mean? — her daughter squinted. — No, — Kate reflected. — She just didn’t know how to love everyone at once. Some people only have room for one in their heart. That’s life. That evening, Dima phoned again. — It’s over, Kate. An hour ago. — I’m so sorry, Dima. It must hurt. — She waited for you, you know, — Dima lied gently. Kate knew, but let him. — Said, “Hope Katie will be happy”. — Thank you, Dima… Come round tomorrow. We’ll remember her together—I’ll bake a cake. — Will do… Kate—do you regret it? Not going, I mean? She didn’t lie. — No, Dima. I don’t. Why pretend? Neither of us ever wanted to see the other… He was quiet a moment. — Maybe you’re right, — he sighed. — Always the sensible one, sis. See you tomorrow. The funeral was quiet. Kate went—for Mum and Dima. She stood apart, black coat against the dismal cemetery sky. As the coffin sank, she didn’t cry. Dima came to her, arm round her shoulders. — You all right? — I’m fine, Dima. Really. — I was clearing out her flat… found a box of old photos. You were in there too. Lots. All cut carefully from family photos. She kept every single one. Kate raised an eyebrow in surprise. — Why? — No idea. Maybe deep down she cared, just couldn’t show it. Afraid if she loved you, I’d get less? Old folks can be odd. — Maybe, — Kate shrugged. — But it doesn’t really matter now. They left under one umbrella—tall, sturdy Dima and little Kate. — You know, — said Dima as they reached their cars, — I’m going to sell that flat. I’ll buy a family home, set up a trust for the kids, and the rest… Maybe we should donate it? A children’s hospital, perhaps? So ‘Nan’s’ money finally brings someone some joy… Kate looked at him and, for the first time in days, smiled warmly. — You know, Dima… That would be the sweetest revenge on Granny Watson. The kindest revenge in the world. — So it’s settled? — Settled. They drove away in different directions. Kate, music playing, felt an unexpected, gentle calm settle within. Maybe Dima was right. Some of the money should help heal a child. That would be fair.

Granny Always Had a Favourite

And what about me, Gran? she would ask softly.

Oh, youre fine, Catherine. Look at those rosy cheeks; youve clearly been well-fed. These walnutsthey help with thinking. Michael needs them for his studies. Hes a boy, after allour hope for the future. You, meanwhile, best toddle off and give those shelves a dust. A girl should learn to be handy around the house.

Cat, are you serious right now? She hasnt got much time. The doctors say shes only got a day or two leftif that. Maybe just hours…

Michael stood in the kitchen doorway, twisting his car keys in his palms, looking positively wretched.

Im deadly serious, Mike. Want a cuppa? Cat didnt turn around, still methodically slicing an apple for her daughter. Sit down, Ill put the kettle on.

Tea? Catherine, really? Her brother strode in, voice cracking. Shes lying there hooked up to all those tubes, wheezing… She called for you this morning, you know. Catherine, she said, wheres my Catherine? It made my heart just seize up. Are you not going to see her?

Shes our grandmother! Its the last chance, dont you get that?

Cat arranged apple slices on a plate before glancing at her brother.

To you, shes Gran. To her, youre Mikeyher golden boy, her pride and joy, future of the name. For her, I never even existed.

So tell mewhat would be the point of this goodbye? What am I meant to forgive? Or expect her to?

Oh, come off itstop with all these childhood grudges! Michael slammed his keys down. Yeah, maybe she didnt love you like me. So what? Shes oldstuck in her ways. But shes dying! Do you have to be so… bitter?

Im not bitter, Mike. Im just numb. Go on, sit with her yourselfhold her hand. Youre the apple of her eyenot me.

You light up her world. So go on, shine for her to the very end.

Michael stared at his sister a moment more, then turned and left, the door clicking hard behind him.

Catherine sighed, scooped up the plate of apples, and headed to her daughters room.

***

Their family had always been fair. Their parentsMum and Dadloved both Cat and Mike equally. The house was busy, noisy, always bursting with the smell of freshly baked scones or Sunday roast, bustling with outings and laughter.

But Grandma Margaret was of a different sort.

Come here, Mikey, my little darling, shed croon whenever they visited at the weekend. Look what Ive saved just for you.

Walnuts shed cracked herself! And tins of Quality Street from the top of the dresserher private stash.

Seven-year-old Cat would hover at her elbow, watching as her gran pulled a special little bag out from the old mahogany sideboard.

And me, Gran? Cat would whisper.

Grandma Margaret would give her that quick, sharp side-eye.

Youre good as you are, Catherine. Cheeks plump and rosy. These are for your brothergood for the brain. Hes a young man, the future of the family.

Go on, polish those shelves, would you? A girl must take to work.

Mike, cheeks crimson, would take the sweets and sidle into the hall, while Cat fetched the duster.

It didnt upset her, oddly enough. Little Cat saw it like the weather. Sometimes it rained, sometimes Gran loved Mike best. It just was.

Usually, Mike waited for her in the corridor.

Here, hed whisper, slipping her half the chocolates and a palmful of walnuts. Just dont eat it in front of hershell kick off again.

You need them more, Cat would grin. For your mighty mind.

To hell with all that, Mike would grumble. Shes lost the plot, our Gran. Come on, scoff them quick.

Sitting together on the steep attic stairs, they munched their contraband in secret. Mike always sharedalways.

Even when their gran pressed a five-pound note into his hand for ice cream behind their mothers back, hed rush to Cat.

Oi, thisll buy us two big cones and some bubblegum. Go on, lets get a move on!

Mike was her anchorhis affection filled the gap left by their grandmothers coldness so well, Cat barely even noticed there was a gap at all.

Years drifted on. Margaret grew older. When Mike turned eighteen, she solemnly announced she was giving him her spare two-bedroom flat in Camden.

The backbone of the family needs a roof of his own, she declared one afternoon to the whole family assembly. Let him bring home a good wife, settle himself down proper.

Their mother only gave a quiet sigh. She knew better than to argue with her own formidable mother, but that evening, after everyone had left, she sat down in Cats room.

Darling, listen. Your dad and I have talked. The savings we put aside for a new car and renovationswere going to give them to you.

Its enough for a depositso youll have your own place. Its only fair.

Mum, please Cat hugged her. Mike needs the flat. Hes planning to marry Becky. Ill be fine in the halls for now.

No, love. We cant just help one, leave the other behind. Its not how we do things. Pleasejust take it.

But Cat refused.

Not long after, Mike moved into his grans flat straight after the wedding, and Cat took over his old room, filling it with her books and art suppliesand feeling, for the first time, how wonderful it was to have a family where love wasnt portioned out as right or wrong.

Their relationship didnt suffer a jot over the inheritance. In fact, if anything, Mike felt even more sheepish.

Come over, Cat, hed say. Beckys made a cake. Gran… well… you know. She rang again, asking if Id blown her money on your shenanigans.

And what did you say?

I said Id spaffed the lot on fruit machines and premium gin, Mike laughed. She fumed for a while, then snapped, That Catherines a bad influence!

Obviously, Cat grinned. Who else would it be?

***

When Cat married Oliver and had a little girl, housing reared its head. Their mother, ever the diplomat, came up with a solution.

Kids, she called, our place is huge. Mikes got his flat from Gran, and you two are renting, Cat. Why not sell this, buy a one-bed and a two-bed? Your dad and I will downsize; you and Oliver get the larger place.

Mum Mike cut in. Im giving up my share of the family home. Grans flat is plenty for us. Let Cat have the restthey need it more. Its only right.

Mate, are you sure? Oliver asked, a bit dazed. Thats a lot of cash, Mike.

Im sure. Cat and I always split everything down the middle. She went without thanks to Gran. No arguments.

Cat cried thennot over the space, but because her brother was the greatest person she knew.

So they split the proceedseach got what they needed.

Their mother grew into the perfect granny, visiting every week to help with the kids, Mike and Becky popped round at weekends.

Grandma Margaret lived alone, with only Mike for companyhed bring groceries, fix the tap, listen to her endless grumbles about her health and ungrateful Catherine.

Has she ever called? shed scowl.

Gran, you never wanted her in your life, Mike would reply, gentle but firm. You never even had a kind word for hernot once in twenty years. Why should she call?

I was trying to teach her manners! Gran would sniff. A woman must know her place! Now shes gone and nabbed the family flat and driven her own mother out!

Mike would only sigh. No use arguing.

***
Cat sat in her kitchen, memories flicking through her mind like pages in an old book.

Gran slapping her hand away from the jam jar. Fawning over Mikes misshapen painting while breezing past Cats award for the school spelling bee.

Grinning like the Queen at Mikes wedding, but skipping Cats with a flimsy excuse.

Mum, why dont we visit Granny Margaret? her daughter called from the doorway. Uncle Mike said shes really poorly.

Because, my love, Gran only wants to see Uncle Mike, Cat brushed her daughters hair. Thats what gives her peace.

Is she mean? her daughter squinted.

No, Cat mused. She just couldnt love everyone at once. Her heart only had space for one. Sometimes its like that.

That evening, her brother rang again.

Its happened, Cat. An hour ago.

Im sorry, Mike. I know youre hurting.

She was waiting for you right to the end, he lied softly. Cat knew it was a kind lie; Mike always wanted some sort of peace between them. She said, I hope Catherines happy.

Thanks, Mike. Come by tomorrowwell have everyone round. Ill do a pie.

Ill be there… Cat, do you regret it? Not saying goodbye?

She didnt lie.

No, Mike. I dont. What would it have changed? She didnt want me nor I her.

He paused.

Perhaps youre right, he exhaled. You always were the sensible one. See you tomorrow.

The funeral was quiet. Cat wentfor Mum and for Mike. She stood a little to the side, wrapped in black, watching the grey sky that always seems to hang heavier over English graveyards. She didnt cry as the coffin was lowered.

Her brother came and put his arm around her.

You alright?

Im fine, Mike. Truly.

Listenwhile I was sorting her flat, I found a box of old photos. Yoursre in there, too. Loads of them, cut out from the group shots. She kept them all separate.

Cat looked surprised.

Why?

No idea. Maybe she did care but just couldnt show it. Maybe she thought loving you meant less for meold people are strange like that.

Maybe, Cat shrugged. But it doesnt matter anymore.

They left under one battered umbrellatall, sturdy Michael and slender Cat.

Listen, Mike said, as they reached their cars. Im selling her flat. Ill buy a new place for us, set the boys up with something for the futureand the rest… Shall we start a foundation? Or give it to a childrens hospital? Just so… something good comes from all of Grans old money.

Cat looked at her brother, and for the first time in days truly smiled.

You know… thats the gentlest revenge we could have on Margaret. The kindest possible payback.

So its settled?

It is.

They drove their separate ways. Cat listened to the radio as she glided through the city, feeling at lastutterly calm.

Maybe Mike was right. It was only fair that some of the money helped heal another child somewhere. That felt like justice.