A Single Request
It was many years ago when I discovered my grandmother-in-law had moved; it was Mrs. Brown from next door who brought me the news. I always visited Granny on her birthday, buying a cake and a bag of plumsshe adored plums. I remember pausing outside the flats, fumbling with my ringing phone, when Mrs. Brown called out to me from her ground floor window.
Is that you, Victoria? Granny’s moved out.
Strictly speaking, she wasn’t my Granny, but belonged to my ex-husband. Wed met back in university, and he still lived with her then. When hed taken me to meet her, I was terribly nervousfelt like I was under inspection. Nicholas had no parents, you see, only Granny, whod raised him since he was five. My worries were needless; Granny welcomed me as her own from the start.
We married in our fifth year, and Granny gave us an unimaginable wedding gifta one-bedroom flat. It was on the citys outskirts, fifth floor, no balcony, but it was ours. Shed scrimped and saved forever, wanting to give us a proper start and not be a burden.
Id never had anything truly mine before. My stepfather always kept strict tabs, ensuring I didnt eat more than his children, run more water than allotted, and forever scolding about wasting electricity. At seventeen, I became a waitress and rented a tiny box of a room, like a cupboard. No hall accommodation for memy city registration ruled it out. So that one-bedroom flat felt like a palace.
Yet my happiness was short-lived. A year after the wedding, I finished my shift early (to get home and cook Nicholas breakfast) and walked in to find a blonde girl in my bed, puffing smoke towards the ceiling. The bathroom echoed with running water. The girl simply pulled up the Christmas blanket Granny had gifted us, utterly unfazed.
Our five-year relationship ended then. I made no scene, and the divorce was civil. The flat remained Nicholass, as expected; I never demanded it, though the blonde who clung to Nicholas throughout the proceedings hissed loudly, Get her to sign something, or shell get knocked up by some cabbie and go to court for the place!
Where did Granny move? I asked, dismissing the call.
To your old flat! Nicholass lot are expecting a baby, so they swapped.
I worriedGranny struggled to walk after her hip fracture, and that flat had no lift. How would she manage there, alone and amongst strangers? Here, everyone knew her; there was always someone to lend a hand.
The news of Nicholas’s child stung. Hed refused children with me, claiming he wanted life for himself, first.
Well, thank you, Mrs. Brown.
I had to wait at the bus stop, endure a forty-minute journey gripping a battered handle, keeping the cake steady.
Returning to the flat where Id felt happiest was melancholy. I followed my old route, noticing the little changesa new shop sign, fencing around the once-empty lot In the courtyard stood a brand new playground, and a boy of about six splashed his bare feet in a puddle.
Im at the seaside! he gleefully declared.
I smiled, pulling a chocolate bar from my pocket.
Here you go, Robinson Crusoe!
Granny pretended all was perfectly well, said it was her idea.
Nicholas pops round, gets my shopping, drives me to the surgery if I need, she claimed.
And when did he last visit? I pressed.
Why, just yesterday, she assured me.
I knew she fibbedthe bin under the sink bulged and stank, the bread was hard as nails.
Let me pop to the shop, I offered. I need cheese, nearly forgot.
That was a fib of my own.
Granny protested, but I insisted. When I left, I intentionally forgot my umbrella, so Id have an excuse to return in a day or two and fetch it (and help her again). Granny at first protested, claimed Nicholas visited often, but when I caught a chilly autumn cold and stayed clear for a week, she herself phoned shyly, asking when I could come.
It was hard, travelling so often, so I found a solution: I arranged for the little courtyard boy, the puddle adventurer, to take the bins out each day for fifty pounds a week, and I started ordering her groceries for delivery. I even bought Granny a smartphone and taught her to use the app. Nicholas had always insisted Granny would never copeyet she did, splendidly. I still visited weekly, sometimes more, sometimes less. Granny seemed to forget Nicholas had once been my husband, boasting about his new baby, showing me videos he sent to her phone.
Did you ever get to hold your great-grandson? I asked.
Hes too tiny yet! she replied.
On his first birthday, Nicholas did bring the babyGranny asked me to withdraw a hundred pounds from her card for the birthday gift. And thats how I knew Nicholass visits: birthdays, holidays, New Year, and once more in April (probably the blondes birthday). For every occasion, Granny withdrew generous sums for gifts.
She always tried to press money into my hands, but I refused.
Ill be properly cross with you if you do, I warned her.
One day, Granny said,
Alright. But promise youll grant me one request. Then Ill stop pestering you with money.
What is it?
Ill tell you later.
I agreed, thinking nothing of it.
When Paul came into my life, Granny was the first to know. I barely spoke to my mother thenshe drank with my stepfather, forever scolding, calling me a failure.
You lost a man with a flathow could you be so daft? Youll be stuck in rooms forever!
Paul had no flat. But he promised hed earn one. He was five years younger, and I long resisted his courtship, yet finally agreed. He was kind, cheerfulhis family welcomed me immediately. They lived in a cottage on the citys edge, and besides Paul, they had five more sons.
I couldnt manage a girl seventh time round, his mother told me with a wistful smile. Now Im hoping for a granddaughter. What about youdo you want children, or are you a career woman?
I do, I admitted.
Well, then, Im counting on you two for a granddaughter. Pauls our most grown-upthe others are still wild!
We wed quietly, forgoing a big celebration to spend our savings on a trip. I worried for Granny, but there was nothing more to be done.
My fears werent unfounded. No one really knew how it happenedperhaps she felt faint and went out for help, or maybe decided to take the bins herself She was found cold on the stairs.
I told myself not to cry; Id only just taken a pregnancy testwas bursting to tell Granny. But how could I not grieve? If only I hadnt gone away, maybe it would have been different! Not even the funeralNicholas never informed me, though he knew I still visited Granny. I didnt call or quarrel with him.
Instead, a few days later, Nicholass wife rang.
Think youre clever? Well take you to court and prove she was dotty when she wrote that!
I had no idea what she meant. The blonde shouted, called me names, and only at the end did I realise it was about a flat.
The next day, the solicitor called. He asked me to review Grannys will. It turned out she had left me a letter.
I read it through tears. Granny wrote such kind words, her thanks embarrassed meI hadnt done it for gratitude, but because I truly loved her as my own. After all, there was no one else for me to love. Here is the request I mentioned: accept this flat as my gift, Ive nothing else left to give you.
I thought Granny meant her own flat, but the solicitor clarifiedit was the two-bedroom flat where Nicholas and his wife currently lived. The one-bedroom belonged to Nicholas; Granny had gifted him that years ago.
I asked for time to think. Paul and I discussed it at length. I didnt want a flat, with constant threats and insults; it wasnt worth risking my child. But it seemed wrong not to honour Grannys wish. After much deliberation, we reached agreement.
We invited Nicholas and his wife to the solicitors office, after consulting with him. The solicitor said I wasnt terribly clever, but didnt argue.
Nicholass wife attacked me, would have lunged if not for Pauls presence; she ranted, threatened.
Enough! Nicholas suddenly exclaimed. Victoria gets it, fair and squareshe cared for Granny for three years.
I was so astonished, I nearly forgot my prepared speech.
Theres nothing to discuss, Nicholas said, not meeting my eyes. Well move our things out, clear the flat.
That was when I explained my plan. I didnt want to disrupt their lives; the one-bedroom on the outskirts would do for me. Id sorted it with the solicitorjust required Nicholass consent.
He finally looked at me, guilt in his eyes.
Nicholas’s wife promptly settled, demanding coffee and biscuits, moaning about the hassle, You could have told us, really!
Our daughter was bornI named her Sophie, after Granny. And Pauls mother was overjoyed! More granddaughters followedbut Sophie remained the most cherished of all
© Hello, Sorrow.
