“Mum, maybe we should just let Gran go out and get lost? Itd be better for everyone,” Molly said defiantly.
“Mum, how much longer can we go on like this? Are you going to bring this up for the rest of my life?” Fifteen-year-old Molly snapped back.
“Not the rest of your lifejust as long as she lives with us. If she goes outside, shell get lost and”
“And die under some hedge, and well have to live with the guilt Mum, maybe we should just let her?” Molly challenged again.
“Let her what?” her mum asked, confused.
“Let her go and get lost. You said yourself youre sick of dealing with her.”
“How can you say that? Shes my mother-in-law, not my own mother, but shes still your gran.”
“Gran?” Molly narrowed her eyes, her usual sign of rising anger. “Where was she when her precious son left us? When she refused to look after meher own granddaughter? Did she ever care about you working yourself to the bone just to scrape together a few extra quid? She even blamed you when Dad left”
“Enough!” Her mum stood abruptly. “I shouldnt have told you all that.” She sighed. “Ive raised you wrong if you have no compassion for your own family. It terrifies me. When Im old, will you treat me like this? Whats happened to you? You were always such a kind girlyou couldnt walk past a stray kitten or puppy without bringing it home. Gran isnt some stray” Her mum shook her head wearily. “Shes already suffering. Your father abandoned her too, not just us.”
“Mum, youll be late for work. I promise Ill lock the door,” Molly said, guilt creeping into her voice.
“Fine. Weve both said too much already.” But her mum didnt move.
“Mum, Im sorry, but it hurts to look at you. Skin and bones. Youre only forty, but you walk hunched over like an old woman, barely dragging your feet. Always exhausted. Why are you looking at me like that? Whos going to tell you the truth if not your own daughter?” Molly hadnt realised she was shouting again.
“Thanks. Just make sure she doesnt leave the gas on or flood the bathroom.”
“See? Thats what I meanwere tied to her, no life of our own. Mum, lets put her in a care home. Shed be looked after properly there. She doesnt understand anything”
“Are you starting again?” her mum cut in sharply.
“Itd be better for everyone, especially her,” Molly pressed, ignoring her mums frustration.
“I dont want to hear another word. Im not sending her away. How long does she have left? Let her stay at home.”
“Shell outlive both of us. Go to work. I wont go out, Ill lock the door, I promise,” Molly muttered darkly.
“Sorry. Ive dumped too much on you. All your friends are out enjoying themselves, and youre stuck looking after Gran.”
They hadnt noticed Grans door was ajar. She must have heard everythingthough whether she understood or would remember in a minute was another matter.
Once her mum left, Molly went into what used to be her room, now Grans.
“Gran, do you need something?”
Grans empty gaze gave no answer.
“Come on, Ill give you a sweet.” Molly helped her up and led her to the kitchen.
“Who are you?” Gran stared blankly.
“Have your tea.” Molly sighed, placing a boiled sweet in front of her.
Gran had always loved sweets. She and her mum hid them, only giving her one with tea. Molly watched as Gran fumbled with the wrapper. Through her thin grey hair, her pale scalp showed. Molly looked away.
Gran used to dye her hair, pile it high, paint her lips bright red, arch her brows. Molly remembered the cloying scent of her perfume. Men had always noticed heruntil her mind began to slip.
Molly couldnt tell what she felt for Granpity, resentment, something in between? A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
“Mum mustve forgotten something.” She went to answer.
But it was her friend Jack, a sixth-former. Her mum didnt approve of him, so he came when she was out.
“Hey. Why so early? Mum just left,” Molly whispered.
“I know. She didnt see me.”
“Millie!” Grans voice called from the kitchen.
“Whos Millie?” Jack asked.
“Thats what she calls Mumthinks shes her daughter. Wait in the loo. Shes having a clear moment.” Molly nudged him toward the bathroom.
“Nobodys here.” Molly returned to the kitchen to find an empty cup and a sweet wrapper.
“I want tea,” Gran said.
“But” Molly gave up. Gran forgot things instantly, though distant memories stayed sharp. She often confused them, didnt recognise them. But sometimesrarelyshed have moments of clarity.
Molly sighed, poured another cup, and set out another sweet. Gran struggled with the wrapper. When she finished, Molly led her back to bed.
“Sleep now.” She shut the door.
Jack peeked out.
“Can I come out?”
“Yeah. Kitchen.” Molly checked the door, then followed.
They sat close, sharing earphones, music playing. Molly swayed, eyes half-shut. She didnt notice Gran slip into the hallway.
When she went to see Jack out, the front door was open. She rushed to Grans roomempty.
“The door I didnt lock it. Shes gone. Mumll think I did it on purpose,” Molly whimpered.
“Why would she think that?” Jack asked.
“You dont get it. Earlier, I said itd be better if she got lost. Mumll think I left it open to spite her.”
“Right, get your coat. Well find her. She cant have gone far.”
Molly checked the hookGrans quilted coat was there. So were her shoes.
“Did she go out in slippers and a housecoat?” Molly stared at Jack.
“Maybe shes with a neighbour? Got confused on the landing. Ill check outside, you ask around.”
No one answered their knocks. Molly gave up and ran outside. Jack searched the playground, bushes.
“Nowhere. Lets try nearby streets. You go right, Ill go left. Meet back here.”
Molly even checked the bus stop. No Gran. How long had she been gone? Half an hour? Forty minutes? How far could she get in slippers?
“We should call the police.”
“Wait. Thinkwhat does she talk about most? Favourite places?” Jack panted.
Molly thought but drew a blank.
“Fine, widen the search. You head toward the school, Ill go the other way.”
Not all streetlights worked. Molly hurried past dark patches, imagining figures in the shadows. Near the school, she remembered Grans storyonce, shed left her notebook in class, gone back, but the caretaker locked up. Shed jumped from a first-floor window, nearly breaking her leg.
Gran hadnt gone to this school, but she always told the story passing it. Molly pushed the gateunlocked. The building was a typical 1960s rectangle. Rounding a corner, she saw a group of lads laughing at someone.
“Gran!”
Gran stood in her blue housecoat. One lad held out a sweet wrapper, yanking it back when she reached. They roared.
“She doesnt get it. Escape from the loony bin, love? Want a sweet?” He offered the wrapper again.
“Leave her alone!” Molly shouted.
The lads turned.
“Look, another one!”
“Whore you? Granddaughter?”
“Escaped together, did you?”
The lad with the wrapper stepped closer. The others followed, crowding Molly, blocking Gran. Their smirks turned predatory. Molly backed into the fence. The gate was too far.
As one, they lunged.
She flailed, but three against oneone pinned her arms, the others shoved her against the railings. Hands groped, deciding whod go first
“Oi! Back off!” Jacks voice cut through.
Two stepped back. The third held fast. A scuffle broke out. Molly kicked his shin. He yelped, let go. She grabbed a broken plank, swungtoo short, hit his back.
He cursed, lunged. She bolted for the gate.
“Over here, love! Weve called the police!” A couple stood outside the fence.
The mention of police sent the lads running. Molly turned back.
“Cheers, but no gratitude, eh?” the man muttered.
“Never mind, no harm done,” the woman said.
Molly helped Jack up.
