the boys dutifully studying the creased, fly-speckled pictures that she’s spread out on the table to show them – twists my heart.
‘That’s amazing, Gran,’ Logan says gamely.
‘Yeah, they’re really cool,’ Fergus adds, stifling a yawn.
She turns to him and smiles. ‘Before you go, let me have a look at that translator of yours.’ He hands it to her and, while she takes the thing to pieces and prods at its innards, I select a leather-bound book from a shelf and flip it open at a random page:
With hym ther was his sone, a yong squier
A lovyere and a lusty bacheler …
A lusty bachelor! Could a child-friendly dentist fit into this category? We all wait patiently as Mum fiddles about with the gadget’s innards, then finally puts it back together. ‘There,’ she says, handing it to Fergus.
‘Is it fixed?’ he gasps.
‘Yes, just needed resetting. Go on, ask it a question.’
He turns to me, perhaps fearful of what it might say.
‘Er … “Where is the station?”’ I ask nervously. He taps some buttons.
Où est la gare?
it chirps.
‘Wow, Grandma.’ Fergus grins. ‘That’s amazing. You’re so clever.’
‘It really wasn’t difficult,’ she blusters, as if unaccustomed to praise. We say our goodbyes then, all heading outside where I give her a hug; it’s like trying to cuddle an icicle. She is a little more receptive to Logan and Fergus’s hugs, and doesn’t appear to notice their eagerness to jump into the car.
Before I climb in, perhaps in an attempt to spark a glimmer of warmth between us, I add, ‘Oh, I meant to tell you, Mum – that was Kirsty who called earlier. She’s setting me up on a blind date.’
‘Really?’ Mum fixes me with small pale grey eyes. ‘Who with?’
‘Some dentist guy.’
‘A
dentist
,’ she repeats, clearly impressed. ‘Ooh, you’ll be glad I gave you that diet then.’ So what’s she implying now? That I have fat
teeth
?
Chapter Six
‘That was
so
embarrassing,’ Logan declares as we pull away. ‘Never put me in a situation like that again, Mum. Can’t believe you did that to me.’
Like
I
flaunted the use-by date on those burgers!
‘Listen,’ I say, ‘I stopped you being poisoned, all right? I might’ve even saved your life.
And
I ruined my best cardi.’
‘That’s disgusting,’ Fergus crows from the back seat, ‘putting cooked food in your pockets. You’d go mad if we did that.’
Jesus Christ. We reach the main road and I speed up, the cigarette and gin scenario becoming more appealing by the minute.
‘There wasn’t an awful lot of choice, Fergus. Anyway, I think you had the right idea. Next time we go, I’ll tell her we’ve gone vegetarian …’
‘You mean we’re going
again
?’ Logan whines.
‘Well, at some point, yes. I mean, that wasn’t the last time you’ll ever see Grandma.’
‘No, I know that,’ he says gruffly.
‘And she loves our visits,’ I add. ‘Being around such vibrant young people brings sunshine and sparkle into her life.’
Fergus cackles with laughter, and the fuggy weight of the day starts to lift as we head along the main Edinburgh-bound road.
‘What would she give us,’ Fergus muses, ‘if we pretended to be veggie?’
‘God knows. A tin of potatoes, maybe.’
‘You can’t get tinned potatoes,’ he retorts.
‘Oh yes you can. You’ve been spoilt, that’s your problem …’
He barks with laughter. ‘Well, they sound better than stinky old meat …’
‘Maybe,’ Logan muses, ‘she’d be better in an old people’s home.’
I cast him a sharp look. ‘Grandma doesn’t need to go into a home. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s as strong as an ox, you know – managed to erect that fence at the front all by herself …’
At the term ‘erect’, both boys dissolve into cackles. ‘They’re actually not that bad,’ Logan adds.
‘What aren’t?’
‘Old folks’ homes. Blake’s granddad’s in one.’
‘Yes, I know, love
‘That’s amazing, Gran,’ Logan says gamely.
‘Yeah, they’re really cool,’ Fergus adds, stifling a yawn.
She turns to him and smiles. ‘Before you go, let me have a look at that translator of yours.’ He hands it to her and, while she takes the thing to pieces and prods at its innards, I select a leather-bound book from a shelf and flip it open at a random page:
With hym ther was his sone, a yong squier
A lovyere and a lusty bacheler …
A lusty bachelor! Could a child-friendly dentist fit into this category? We all wait patiently as Mum fiddles about with the gadget’s innards, then finally puts it back together. ‘There,’ she says, handing it to Fergus.
‘Is it fixed?’ he gasps.
‘Yes, just needed resetting. Go on, ask it a question.’
He turns to me, perhaps fearful of what it might say.
‘Er … “Where is the station?”’ I ask nervously. He taps some buttons.
Où est la gare?
it chirps.
‘Wow, Grandma.’ Fergus grins. ‘That’s amazing. You’re so clever.’
‘It really wasn’t difficult,’ she blusters, as if unaccustomed to praise. We say our goodbyes then, all heading outside where I give her a hug; it’s like trying to cuddle an icicle. She is a little more receptive to Logan and Fergus’s hugs, and doesn’t appear to notice their eagerness to jump into the car.
Before I climb in, perhaps in an attempt to spark a glimmer of warmth between us, I add, ‘Oh, I meant to tell you, Mum – that was Kirsty who called earlier. She’s setting me up on a blind date.’
‘Really?’ Mum fixes me with small pale grey eyes. ‘Who with?’
‘Some dentist guy.’
‘A
dentist
,’ she repeats, clearly impressed. ‘Ooh, you’ll be glad I gave you that diet then.’ So what’s she implying now? That I have fat
teeth
?
Chapter Six
‘That was
so
embarrassing,’ Logan declares as we pull away. ‘Never put me in a situation like that again, Mum. Can’t believe you did that to me.’
Like
I
flaunted the use-by date on those burgers!
‘Listen,’ I say, ‘I stopped you being poisoned, all right? I might’ve even saved your life.
And
I ruined my best cardi.’
‘That’s disgusting,’ Fergus crows from the back seat, ‘putting cooked food in your pockets. You’d go mad if we did that.’
Jesus Christ. We reach the main road and I speed up, the cigarette and gin scenario becoming more appealing by the minute.
‘There wasn’t an awful lot of choice, Fergus. Anyway, I think you had the right idea. Next time we go, I’ll tell her we’ve gone vegetarian …’
‘You mean we’re going
again
?’ Logan whines.
‘Well, at some point, yes. I mean, that wasn’t the last time you’ll ever see Grandma.’
‘No, I know that,’ he says gruffly.
‘And she loves our visits,’ I add. ‘Being around such vibrant young people brings sunshine and sparkle into her life.’
Fergus cackles with laughter, and the fuggy weight of the day starts to lift as we head along the main Edinburgh-bound road.
‘What would she give us,’ Fergus muses, ‘if we pretended to be veggie?’
‘God knows. A tin of potatoes, maybe.’
‘You can’t get tinned potatoes,’ he retorts.
‘Oh yes you can. You’ve been spoilt, that’s your problem …’
He barks with laughter. ‘Well, they sound better than stinky old meat …’
‘Maybe,’ Logan muses, ‘she’d be better in an old people’s home.’
I cast him a sharp look. ‘Grandma doesn’t need to go into a home. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s as strong as an ox, you know – managed to erect that fence at the front all by herself …’
At the term ‘erect’, both boys dissolve into cackles. ‘They’re actually not that bad,’ Logan adds.
‘What aren’t?’
‘Old folks’ homes. Blake’s granddad’s in one.’
‘Yes, I know, love
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