Some Oddities of the Willoughby Family
There goes Olivia out with her dog
Oh, heavens, whats she done to that poor animal now? Look, look at Charlie! His tails not purple anymore, its pink! Just look at the way hes wagging it!
Well, what can you do? The girls always been a bit peculiar! Still, shes kind-hearted and decent! See many like that these days? When her gran was ill, Olivia practically lived at the hospital. Danced around her bedside, never once thinking of her own youth.
Oh, come now! Only yesterday I saw a rather handsome young chap drop her off outside in his car.
Mightve been a cabbie.
Oh, right! Since when do London cabbies kiss a girls hand, then?
Did he, really?
Exactly! And Im telling you, our Olivias getting married soon.
Well, good! Her granll be chuffed to bits. Shes raised a clever, pretty, decent girl. Would be perfect, if not for the job!
Whats wrong with Olivias job?
Detective Inspector! Is that work for a young lady?
You say that, but how many these days respect the law like her gran? Hardly any! Olivias brilliant at her job. There was even an article about her in the Sunday Times, and she was on the telly too. Everyone was singing her praises!
Look, Im not saying anything against her! God bless her, I say. She was always a clever one, you could see it from childhood, couldnt you?
Certainly! Just like her gran. Full of fire, that girl.
The neighbours, sitting nattering away on the bench outside the flats, watched as Olivia strolled past, nodding politely with a bright good morning. Suddenly, she dashed off with a spring in her step, chasing after her dogCharlie, the one with the soft, dawn-pink tailbounding along the grit-strewn, frosty path.
There she goes! Wheres she off to in such a hurry?
Shes meeting her sister! Katherines flying in today!
How do you know?
Olivia told me. Look, look, theres the cab pulling up!
Out stepped a tall, elegant young woman, silent, striding straight to meet Olivia halfway, wrapping her in a big hug, then letting out a whistle for the pink-tailed Charlie.
Ollie, what have you done to your poor dog this time?
What dont you think its pretty? Grans favourite shade!
Oh, how Ive missed you, you delightful weirdo.
Olivia grabbed her sister again and laughed.
That Olivia Willoughby was a little offbeat was well-known across their part of Cambridge. Everyone agreed her quirks started back in the golden days of childhood. Shed come skipping along, fair hair in neat plaits, big bows at the endstied by her grans careful handsgreeting the neighbours with all the gaps in her smile, pre-dentist, and a beaming How do you do?
But soon enough, even folk with nothing to hide stopped answering. Not that they were worried about skeletons in the closet, or secretive parrots blabbing family secretsno; Olivia was the worry.
She was a chatterboxa proper one.
If only it were that simple! A child who talks too muchwho pays that any mind? But Olivia did more than natter. She had a rare knack for taking what she heard, matching it to what shed seen, and then repeating it unfiltered to precisely the wrong person.
Mrs Taylor, while you were at work, Uncle Sid went to visit Mrs Brown at No. 17with flowers! Lovely, big yellow ones, like the ones he gave you on your birthday. I asked if I could smell them, but he said no, and went straight to Mrs Brown. Whys she allowed flowers and not me?
Mrs Taylor, whod always bought her husbands stories of late nights at the office and so much overtime, would stiffen, glancing nervously around in case any eavesdropping neighbour had heard, hurrying past Olivias gran without so much as a hello.
Darling, why are you talking to Mrs Taylor? She didnt ask you anything! her gran would fume, but rarely explained further.
Olivia would feel wounded.
She truly couldnt understand what shed done wrong. She hadnt said anything terrible had she?
It was most confusing and, more than a little, upsetting. If Gran had simply explained why you shouldnt mention a neighbours husband bringing flowers to another woman, perhaps Olivia would have held her tongue next time.
But after events like that, Gran grew as silent and severe as the war memorial on Market Square where Olivia liked to walk on Sundays. Gran would grip her handlovingly, but tightlyand, lips pressed in displeasure, would huff at her granddaughter with that look: Dont even think of dessert tonight.
Olivia didnt care for this at all. Shed sulkcheeks puffeduntil shed suddenly remember the memorial and that Gran, thankfully, didnt have pigeons nesting on her head. So, Grans hair was always in impeccable order and didnt resemble the poor, bare dome of the bronze soldier on the green.
Her granddadstep-granddad, reallyused to tell her the funniest things.
Why is he bald? shed squint up at the monument, sun in her eyes.
Too much stress, love. Granddad was always delightfully direct, unlike the enigmatic Gran.
You mean, he worried a lot? Had a tough job, did he?
Something like that!
Was he a childrens dentist too? Olivia would imagine the granite soldier crammed into granddads tiny clinic, bent double, a crowd of children screaming at the sight of that pigeon-pecked dome poking through the door as someone shouted, Next, please!
Granddad would laugh so hard, people in the park would turn around, and Olivia would frown, entirely at a loss as to what caused such grown-up giggles.
Shed bristle, hands on hips like Gran, then parrot her:
Thats no way to behave! Arent you meant to be a smart chap, Granddad? Be modest, thats your best feature! Really, Im quite embarrassed for you!
Hed chuckle just the same, then buy her a secret ice cream cone on the way home secret, because Gran forbade sweets before lunch. But Granddadblissfully above Grans rulebooksaw fit to treat Olivia now and then. That was, she reckoned, the only thing shed ever kept as a secret.
Olivia, if you tell Gran I gave you ice cream, shell never forgive me.
Will she make a scene?
You know she will! Grans not a woman to be trifled with.
But you never listen to her!
Im a man, love! What would I be if I only did as I was told?
Well, maybe we could tell her about the ice cream, then? Olivias eyes would glint slyly.
No, no! Not listening is one thing; annoying a woman on purpose is quite another!
Are you a coward, Granddad?
No, darling. I just know when its better to keep the peace.
How do you mean?
Ill explain. But lets buy Gran some flowers first, so she wont notice your ice-cream grin.
Shed nod. Olivia adored her step granddad.
He had come into her life as a sort of late Christmas present. Gran, whod raised her alone while Olivias globe-trotting academic parents dug up Roman pottery or researched Saxon hoards, finally remarried an old flame. Gran was a practical woman a solicitor, no less given to taking charge and rarely sentimental. With two exceptions: her beloved granddaughter, and her now-husband, fatefully reunited after years apart.
Why fatefully? Only fate, it seemed, would conspire to bring two such different people together. Gran was tall, broad-shouldered, and formidable; Granddad was short, round, and cheery. More importantly, Granddad had the patience of a saintwhich came in handy, given Grans temperament and her own demanding job.
Despite her rational nature, Gran was hopelessly romantic underneath. Her whole life shed longed for moonlit poetry and serenades by the cottage, for windowsills carpeted in lilac and jasmine. But everyone around her thought such fripperies unfitting for a woman of her standing.
Her first husband admired her intellect but never bought flowers except on state occasionsand even then, sometimes added a stanza of T.S. Eliot as an afterthought. Grans heart ached for something more, and when she suffered, everyone near her suffered, too. So it wasnt much of a surprise when he left, never having really known who the woman beside him truly was.
A solitary time followed. She raised her son, built a career, and never imagined her hearts wish was just a garden away.
When Olivia was born, a little beam of joy returned. Gran blossomed, holding that squawking slip of a child in her arms. There was something in Oliviaso loud, so skinny, so fragilethat softened Grans heart and gave her hope.
Her parents, dedicated archaeologists, soon moved on to another dig. Olivia was left in Grans handswhere, everyone agreed, shed be safe. The child swelled her cheeks, blew bubbles, and howled so, the neighbours surrendered their Pekingese to distant relativesthe cacophony was too much.
Thus Olivia grew, spoilt by Gran and even a nanny. By the time she turned one, Granddad arrived.
Gran explained: it was better for a child to have more family, so Olivia saw her real granddad as well as her new one. In time, though she spent weeks with her other grandfathers family too, it was the new one she loved the one whod gladly lay down his life for her and Gran.
The story of Grans second chance at happiness, Olivia knew by heart. It was all thanks to Olivias own tendency toward sleeplessness; as a baby, she wailed so wildly, Gran was forced to seek out a specialist on a neighbours advice.
Mrs Willoughby, have you tried Dr Peter Holder? The children all adore himperhaps he can help! Poor thing! You look exhausted.
You have no idea! Gran replied, and ran with the pram to Peter’s clinic, handily next door.
Louisa! Peter beamedand Gran sensed life was about to change again.
His smile was the very same that haunted her dreams all through the Sixth Form. She had never dared confess her feelings, and Peterever the modest onehad never dared either.
But this time, Peter seized the moment. Gran, caught off guard, soon found herself Mrs Holder, with Olivia now boasting a new granddad by marriage.
Grans sonthe gallivanting archaeologistbarely blinked. He congratulated his mother, checked whether shed still help with Olivia, and, reassured, went back to his next dig.
Olivia grew up in a world of care and certainty; she thought all children lived this way. Nursery school? Out of the questionher health wasnt up to it. Gran tried a few times to socialise the child, but Olivia caught bugs every time. Gran tended her for weeks, and in the end, Granddads wisdom prevailed.
Oh, to blazes with nursery! As long as shes well, who cares?
Socialisation fell to the summer holidays in the country. Come spring, theyd move to the cottage near Oxford and not come back till the leaves fell.
There, in the rambling old village, families handed down their cottages, and children played in the shade of grand old pines. Olivia quickly made friendsthere, she thrived. No more illnesses: she was bright, healthy, outside from dawn till dusk, ruler of the garden pavilion Peter had built, where she played host to all the local children.
And visitors she had aplenty: her best friend Sophie, the mischievous twins Michael and Greg, and energetic Zoe, set on ballet stardom. When Olivia turned six, Katherine entered her life.
Katherine was nothing like her other friendsbold, messy, and always knew her own mind.
They met on a lively summer afternoon. Olivia sat in the pavilion, flicking through a city book Granddad had bought, sorting her first, freshly picked strawberries. She wasn’t expecting anyoneSophie had French lessons; the twins had gone shopping with their parents for school supplies. Zoe was dancing all day, her grandmothers dream for her to one day join the Royal Ballet.
Suddenly, a grubby little hand darted out from under the table. Olivia screamed so loudly that Gran nearly spilled a whole basin of strawberry jam on the kitchen floor.
Olivia, what on earth?! Louisa charged out with a spoon, terrifying the neighbours cats, who tumbled off the shed and fledknowing that on such days, nothing good came from that kitchen.
Gran loved animals, but order was more important; and today, order had well and truly fled. Olivia still shrieking, the jam boiling over, and the reason for all this drama yet to appear.
Olivia, feet tucked up under her, stared at the giggling, scruffy girl under the table, picking off strawberries one by onecompletely unafraid.
Why are you yelling? Arent you even curious why Im here?
Without waiting for an answer, the girl slid the whole dish under the table.
Taste this! Its brilliant! If you dont come down here, youll miss out!
It dawned on Olivia she was still shrieking; she stopped, rather abruptly, glancing at gran, bewildered, then slipped under the table.
Here you go! Katherine offered the biggest berry.
Your hands are filthy
So? This is the countryside! Everyone has grubby hands here.
Louisa, seeing the mischief-maker under the table, finally relaxed.
Katie! You mustnt give people such a start! Wheres your granddad?
Resting again. Hes, um, tired.
Grans knowing look made Olivia realise she understood exactly who Katie wasand what tired meant.
Girls, play nicely! Theres sweets on the kitchen table. Ill be back soon Louisa tore off her apron and hurried to the gate, barely glancing at the dumbstruck Olivia, who couldnt think what kind of day it must be if sweets were allowed before lunch.
On the way, Gran remembered the stove, dashed back to turn it off, nudged Peter awake from his nap on the veranda (he could doze anywherethrough opera, Beethoven, or a cacophony of childrens row) and bustled away. Peter poked his head outside.
Olivia, wheres Gran gone?
Waking you! Katie stood, shaking Olivias hand seriously. Katherine Matthews.
Peter Holder. Pleased to meet you! Granddad shook her hand with equal gravity.
In time Olivia learned Katie was the only granddaughter of her Grans old friend, Sam Matthews. Louisa had arranged the rental of the cottage next door so Sam, recently widowed and left alone with his granddaughter after a plane crash took the rest of the family, could be near friends. After the accident and a grim diagnosis, Sam came to Louisa in distress, not knowing how to secure Katies future.
Louisa, what can I do? All thats left are distant relatives, and they wouldnt care for her, not reallyjust her inheritance. How can I protect my little girl?
Pull yourself together, Samthink! Youve always been clever. Well find a way.
And so they did.
Katie became like a second daughter. Sam spent his last days in Grans cottage, watching the girls tear around the garden. On his very last day, Katie hurried to his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek:
Granpa, guess what? Olivia said Im her sister now! Isnt that brilliant!
It took a while to iron out legal details, but Louisa made certain Katie could stay.
So Olivia finally gained a sisterher dearest friend after Gran and Granddad. The girls were nothing alike: Olivia, reserved and analytical; Katie, wild and outspoken. But, as so often, opposites made for the strongest bonds, and a remarkable friendship was borna turn of fate for which Louisa had barely dared hope.
Best of all, it was Katie who always told Olivia the truthsomething she’d missed, even in the midst of all that love.
It was Katie who explained when to speak and when to hold her tongue, channelling Olivias knack for connecting the dots into a powerful tool for deduction.
You ought to be a detective! Though Granddad always said thats a dogs life and not worth much if you get a bad judge.
Thats why Ill be the judge then.
Whys that?
Well, let there be at least one nice one! Olivia laughed, with no idea what a tough but rewarding path lay ahead.
At first, no one took her seriously; theyd joke, roll their eyes, say she was quirky. Let them. Olivia had her goal, and people who stood behind her all the way. After all, what cant you achieve in life with love at your back?
Love standing there, hands on hips, brow furrowed, always asking:
Olivia, have you eaten anything today? No?! That wont do! And you, Katherine, I bet youve not had so much as a crumb since breakfast. Come on, lunchclean plates, mind! Peter! Do you need an engraved invitation? Put Charlie down and wash your handshonestly, poor dog, what did nature ever do to you? What did he do to deserve a pink tail? Because I said so what kind of reason is that? Oh, I do say that, do I? Didnt realise Stop pulling the wool over my eyes, you scallywags! Soups getting cold, to the table, both of you!
