The Apple Doesnt Fall Far
Youre just like your mother!
How do you mean, Granny? Kate instinctively adopted a defensive stance, then gave herself a mental slap. Who was she defending herself from, really?
Headstrong! Thats what. Your mother never listened to anyone, and neither do you!
And what am I supposed to hear?
Me, of course! You should listen to ME! And show some respect! Ive been around a lot longer than you! Life has taught me a thing or two, let me tell you! Understand?
Kate stared in bemusement at her slightly dishevelled, red-cheeked grandmother, who was wagging a finger under her nose.
Very strange. Why the insistence that everyone should hang on her every word? Turned up as if by magic, and now impossible to get rid of.
Kate wriggled her fingers, almost as if she were holding a rubber eraser. If only she could fix today. Brighten it up a bit, erase the shadows She hated darkness. Arguments, rows, raised voices Mum never spoke to her like that. She always said that sensible people know how to listen and really hear.
Ears open, Katie, listen carefully! Like rabbits! Do you know why rabbits are so good at listening? Because foxes creep up ever so quietly. If a rabbits not paying attention snap! its fox supper.
Dont say that! little Kate would shudder, glancing wide-eyed at her mother.
Of course not! Thats why the rabbit is clever. He listens with big ears and runs with speedy feet! The fox never catches him.
That was a long time ago. Kate was almost grown now, but she still remembered every one of her mothers stories and lessons.
Odd how when she was younger, she thought her mum was just making things up or exaggerating. Now it turned out, Mum was spot on.
Take this Grandma, for instance. Kate hadnt even known she existed until last year. Shed lived with Mum in a small coastal town, gone to nursery, fought with Lucy and Molly, then made up and ran down to the pier for ice cream. Then school, Matt, first kisses by the waves as the sun set.
And Mum was always there
Kate squeezed a fat bead of imitation turquoise on her braceletone Mum had made.
Its fake, so what? Isnt it beautiful though! You know, sweetie, sometimes the real thing is bitter and tough. No matter how you twist it round, it wont cheer you or warm you up. A clever substitute might just do the job.
How?
Think backwhy did you fall out with Lucy the other week?
She said were poor, and that the trainers you got me arent the real brand, just knock-offs. She said she knows exactly what real ones look like.
She was right, pet. Your trainers were made by Uncle Frank. But no one said they were branded, now did they?
No.
Theyre proper leather, nice to look atand made with love. You know Uncle Frank wouldnt stitch a shoe without care. Do you like them?
Yes!
Well then what does a label matter? People invented all this nonsense to feel better than others. Look at my rag, you havent got one, so I must be superior! Is that true? Is it fair?
No.
Exactly. What matters is not being fake inside. The rests just labels. Some people need shiny badges, some just enjoy what theyve got. And the happiest ones are those who know not everything is about whats stitched on the outside.
Kate thought about this for ages. Long enough to clean her room *and* Mums. Later, in the kitchen, with Mum stirring a pan of apricot jam, she asked, Mum, does that mean Lucys not a real friend? She says nice things, thenwham!shes mean. I know she liked my trainersMolly said Lucy nagged her mum to buy her better ones.
How do you know?
Molly heard. Lucy made such a fuss at home, wanted trainers better than mine.
Oh, Katie! Mum set down her wooden spoon and pulled her in for a hug. Dont be too quick to judge. Lucys only little yetsame as you
I am NOT little!
Kate wriggled in her mothers arms, head up, eyes flashingmore at herself than at Lucy.
Youll always be my little one, Mum said gently. For mums, their kids and all the scruffy ones they grew up with are always little. Its not a bad thing. Id give anything to be little again, just for a few minutes, to be fussed over But theres no one.
Mum frowned slightly and kissed the top of Kates head.
Never mind! Back to you. And Lucy. Give her time. Remember when she ran you home after you fell off the swingset? She was more scared for you than herself! She scraped her knees jumping after you. Cried so hard the hospital nurse threatened to jab her with a needle just to quieten her. Remember?
Yes
And the new felt tips her dad brought her? She just gave them to you because you were ill and I wouldnt let her visit. Draw me the prettiest picture. Ill hang it on my wall and wait for you to get better, she said. Remember?
I remember
There you are! Trainers pah! Youll grow up and see how silly it all is. The main thing is: dont lose what you have.
Shes already tried to make up.
Why?
To say sorry.
And you?
I told her I never wanted to see her again and we werent poor!
Angry, were you?
Very!
And now?
I still am! But not as much
Wait till the angers worn its teeth down, then make up. If you forgive too soon, youll never get over it and fall out for good.
How Kate wished Mum was here Shed know what to say, what to do. Especially now! With Granny about
Granny landed like an unexpected November frost.
Kate hadnt known her at all, not until Mum got ill and called her ex-mother-in-law, asking her to come.
Well, fancy meeting you again, Irene! boomed a large, florid woman as she shut the gate and leant on it, gasping for breath. Its stifling! How Ill manage, I dont know!
Hello, Mrs. Jenkins, said Mum, voice oddly formal.
Kate glanced at her in surprise; shed never heard Mum speak quite like that.
This is Kate? Mrs Jenkins squinted at her. Looks nothing like him! Are you SURE shes Alexs daughter?
Some things never change, Mum said, with a wry laugh. Kate relaxed. Things couldnt be too bad. Well see, as Mum liked to say.
Kate didnt click with her grandmother. She was noisy, energetic, and bossy. Suddenly, their house was full of fuss and bustle.
Its a mess, Irene! Whats wrong with you? Child in the houseworse, a girl! Whats she learning from this? Her husband will boot her out on their wedding night at this rate, and hed be right!
Kate didnt get why Mum just smiled and kept quiet, saying nothing as this strange woman dashed around reorganising everything.
The cats lost all their swagger and vanished under the furniture. Grey, the dog Uncle Frank gave Kate, silently retreated to the garden and took up guard behind the gazebo, only growling when Mrs Jenkins went on especially loud.
There! The only sensible one here is the dog. Animals have no business indoors anyway!
On hearing thisand at the sight of Mrs Jenkins armed with a mopthe cats shot outside.
At that moment, Kate finally showed her stripes. She nabbed her favourite cat, Doughnut, marched him under her arm straight to her bedroom.
Whats this about? Kate! Mrs Jenkinss sharp cry made Grey bark from the garden.
They staycats and dog! Kate replied coolly. Theyve been here longer than you. If you care about orderstick to it! This is our house. Youre a guest here. Do what you like at home.
Mum gaspedshed never heard Kate speak to an adult like that.
To everyones surprise, Mrs Jenkins didnt seem offended. She just squinted, smirked, and muttered, Definitely our blood. Good stuff! The apple never falls far. Irene, you might have raised her better!
From then on, the cats were left alone. Mrs Jenkins gave them a disgusted nudge with her foot at most, but they were safe.
But most had other things on their minds. Everything was happening too fast; Kate stared at the old clock on the sitting room sideboard, wishing she could stop the hands from spinning.
Why was time in such a hurry? Mum was still so young! Kate needed her. Things werent supposed to be like this
Time, however, wasnt listening. It marched on, minute by minute, with not the faintest twinge of guilt.
Doctors, medicines, hospital rooms
Mum left one early spring morning.
The day before, Kate flung open the windows to let in the sea breeze and whispered, Mum, your cherry tree will blossom soon!
Ill hold on, Katie. I want to see it.
Learning Mum was gone, Kate snapped the branch reaching towards Mums bedroom, in a fit of rage. What was the point, if Mum wasnt there to see it?
Mrs Jenkins spared no fuss. She pulled Kate into her ample arms, produced something groaning between a handkerchief and a bedsheet, and commanded: Cry! Shout! Give it all to me! You dont need to carry this around. It was never your fault Weve all got our time
How did she know the words? How did she know what Kate was feeling inside? She was right. Kate blamed herself. Mum worked too hard, barely rested, everything for Kate Hoped Kate would go off to university and become someone
And as for Kate? Shed hung around with Matt and the girls instead of burying herself in books and painting. Crammed in last-minute efforts, but never got up the nerve to tell Mumdidnt want to make her worry.
Mrs Jenkins only handed Kate Mums letter forty days later, as was tradition. Here. Now you can have it. Read carefullyyour Mums advice.
Whys it open? Kate turned the plain envelope over; no stamp, no address, just For Katie, in Mums bold handwriting.
You think Id read other people’s letters? Im no angel and you know it, but prying is beneath me. Go onoff with you! Ive got half the house to clean. And if you want to help, you know where I am.
She was sulking Kate could tell immediately, as Mrs Jenkins spun on her heel and bustled to the kitchen. No shouting or arguing, just a disappointed snort and the door closing behind her. Kate pressed her brow to the doorframe with Mums pencil marks where shed measured Kates height.
Oh, goodness, look how big Kates grown!
Mums voice sounded so clear Kate jerked back from the wood. Big? Hardly. If she was grown-up, shed be wise. Wouldnt go round hurting people, would she? Mum would not be impressed.
Kate shut her door, plonked down on the floor, rested the envelope in her lap, and hesitated. She had so much to say to Mum, so much she never got to hear
Inside was a thick batch of ink-scrawled notebook pages. Kate hugged the purring Doughnut, then started to read:
Katie,
Stop crying right this minute! Youre my strong girl, arent you? Life is a marvellous thing, full of good stuff! So value it! Dont waste time on what might have been or on weeping for dreams that didnt come true. Youll probably say we had hardly any time together. But I say we had loads, more than you imagine! You wont believe mebut youll see.
Where to begin Maybe with how I met your dad. He was truly something special. I fell for him at first sight. My friends thought I was mad: Hes a redhead! But they never saw how lovely he wasbright as the sun, and just as warm. You look like himfreckles, eyes, nose; everything else is from me. When you were born, hed stare at you, hoping youd end up with curls like Granny Jenkins. His mum.
Grannys a good person, truly. Shes always been like thisloud, blunt, emotional, but also dependable and kind-hearted.
Why didnt you meet her sooner? My fault. I was young and foolish, didnt understand her.
Forgive me.
We fell out badly when you were little. Your dad and I were happy for a while until he met someone else. These things happen, Katie. Not because he didnt love us, but because he found someone who became his whole world.
What about the old world? Sometimes its just gone. I think I loved him more than he loved me. He was a good dad but after a while was only with me for your sake. When he met that woman he couldnt lie any more. He was always honest.
Now I understand; back then I was devastated. Could barely breathe for the hurt. Then Granny Jenkins turned up.
She tried to talk sense into him, wanted our family to stay togetherbut started her usual: Whose house is this? Wheres the order? and I blew up. We said all sorts, things I regret to this day. She shouted, blamed me; I retortedblamed her and your dad. Finally, I snapped she wasnt your grandmother
God, I was so silly! Its so easy to make a mistake, so hard to put it right.
I should have remembered how, when the doctors told me you might not survive, she dropped everything, came and stayed for a month. Cooking me healthy food, sorting out the flat, worrying more than anyone. She only left when she was sure wed be alright.
Turns out, she even talked to that woman. At first, she nearly disowned them, later she accepted themand the kids too. Yes, Kate, you have a half-brother and sister. If you want, Granny will introduce you. Weve spoken about it together. Its awful to be alone. The more family, the better. Ill be happier for you that way.
Think about it.
Now, what’s next. Katie, study! I want you to have a futureone you choose yourself. Dont let anyone boss you around! Remember our talks? About what you want to do, how to use the talents you were born with? You have a gift, my dear! Use it. Not everyone gets one. It wont always be easy. But Mrs Jenkins has agreed to help. There are some savings for younot much, I used most up, but enough for a year or two. After that, youre on your own You earned before, remember? Your painted bags and pictures always sold well to the tourists! In London or Manchester, theyll go even faster. Dont give up your dream, Katie! Make it realityI have a feeling Ill know all about it, wherever I am.
I love you, I worry about you, but I believe youll cope. You’re my clever, brave girl!
Stop those tears, I said.
Mum x
She set the letter down, unable to stop crying for a long time. Mum had told her not to, but all the same.
Doughnut was curled up, snoring away, but Kate just sat, trying to figure out what next.
The answer came in the form of Mrs Jenkins, who poked her head round the door, flicked the light on, and announced, Up you get! Enough moping about. Come onIll make you some proper tea and well have a natter. No good comes from sitting around snivelling all day!
Mrs Jenkins wasnt thrilled about the art business. She scolded Kate, tried to convince her shed do better with a proper job. Kate wasnt interested. Thats when Mrs Jenkins finally admitted Kate was stubborn as an ox, just like her mumwhod spent years unable to admit a single word could tear families apart for so long.
All those yearsnothing, not a peep. I even tried to track you down! Put adverts everywhere! How was I to know your mum changed your name and picked a new family name too? Not even her maiden onea completely different surname! Howd she do that?
Uncle Frank helped.
Ill have words with him, oh yes. Helping her vanish and deprive me of a granddaughter! He wont know whats hit himIm warning you.
Dont be harsh on him. Hes good. Helped us for yearskept asking Mum to marry him, actually.
What did she say?
No chance. She said she loved Dad. I never knew he was alive! If Id known the story, Id have told Mum she was daft!
Oh, what a state. Look at you! Mrs Jenkins clattered a plate before Kate. Eat! And think about what I said! What kind of job is artist? When you could be an accountantand never short of a shilling!
Granny! Not in public!
Why not? Youll learn to count for other people, then youll finally have money of your own!
No! Thats not for me, cant you see?
No, I cant.
Im not being rude. I just want to do what I love! Mum said she gave you money for me? Im eighteen next month. Youll give it me and Ill be off. No need to look after me anymore, Ill manage.
Mrs Jenkins drew herself up, finger poised, but then thought better of it. She gave Kate a long look, then suddenly made a hand sign as old as the primary school playground.
There! You see that? Ill go with you! Make sure you do it properly. I promised your mother I wouldnt leave you, and thats that! Dont try to argue!
With that, Mrs Jenkins huffed, shoved the food towards Kate and commanded, Eat, I said! Its all gone cold now.
And years later, in a little independent gallery somewhere in London, a curious scene would unfold.
Thered be a somewhat rumpled, red-haired, broad Granny, a tall, gawky young man with trendy specs, and Kate with her chubby little son on her hip.
Well, then? Kate would finally ask, having promised herself a hundred times never to ask for the verdict from the woman whod dragged her almost by the ear to this day.
Mrs Jenkins would glare, snort, and promptly grab the baby, mop his nose, and tuck him effortlessly onto her shoulder, finally nodding: Not bad! Lovely frames too. Though you do waste paint, honestly! Couldnt a few be smaller? And your studio is a right mess! I looked in this morning and got lost in the chaos. Ben!to the chap with the glasseswhat are you playing at?
Whats wrong, Mrs Jenkins?
Shes got bags under her eyes you could lose a sandwich in! Shes not sleeping! Right! Young mans coming home with me tonight. You two catch up on sleep and sort yourselves out. All clear? Off we go, right, my little man?
And as she swept past, Mrs Jenkins would pause, brush a hand over Kates cheek, and whisper, Your mum would be ever so proud, love. And so am I. You do know that, dont you? Good girl. My little appleAt that, something in Kate finally settled. She watched her grandmotherher son babbling and gnawing on a ginger biscuit, Granny Jenkins re-tying the knot on his biband all the old arguments seemed to fade like pencil lines rubbed clean. There was just family now: untidy and unstoppable, louder and brighter than she’d ever dared admit she needed.
Matt arrived, arms full of flowers and a sheepish grin, tossing a wink at Kate as he helped Ben gather empty coffee cups. The gallery was fullher paintings drawing people in with memories of golden beaches, storm-lit seas, and stories that held more warmth than any price tag could measure. Even Lucy was there, swaying with Molly, their laughter drifting over the clink of glasses.
Kate caught her sons hand, tiny fingers wrapping her own. She thought of Mumher voice in the sea breeze, her laughter in every brushstroke, her lessons stitched tightly into the fabric of their days. And she remembered: not all goodbyes were forever. Sometimes love came back in a different shapea warm shoulder, a sandwich in your pocket, a stubborn arm around your waist.
She squeezed her son, smiling at Mrs Jenkins, who fussed and tutted but could not quite hide a proud tear. Kate leaned in, close enough for only Granny to hear, and whispered, Thank you. For being here. For not giving up.
Mrs Jenkins huffed, blinking rapidly as she pressed a slightly sticky kiss to Kates forehead. Well, I couldnt, could I? Youre my girl. And besideswho else would put up with all this racket?
They both laugheda sound that, for the first time, felt absolutely like home.
And outside, past the gallery windows, a blossom-pink breeze swept down the street, scattering petals and small golden moments, just waiting for Kate to add a little more color.
