Gran seemed to be sticking to her promise to keep quiet, and Lois wondered if she was guarding a bombshell she intended to drop dramatically at the end. All avenues had been explored, all sandwiches eaten, and Lois thanked Dot for staying behind. “Great help, Dot,” she said. “We’ll let you know how we get on.”
“I am very happy to do interviewing, too, Mrs M,” she replied. “Local knowledge an’ that.”
Gran sat up in her chair and folded her arms. “Well, if you’re all finished,” she said, “I’d like to add one thing. It might be the answer to all our problems.”
“Mum?” said Lois, her heart sinking.
“I’d like to propose one person for the flat,” Gran continued. “Very reliable, still active and with full complement of marbles. Respectable, churchgoing and with a decent nest egg to pay the rent.”
Matthew grinned. “So who is this paragon of virtues?” he asked.
“Me,” said Gran. “Mrs Weedon, at present living at Meade House. Wishing to retire from household duties, but will cook for a suitable wage. Good at living alone, and a light sleeper in case of nighttime marauders. Not partial to reptiles, but not scared of them, either.”
*
“Do you think she meant it?” said Derek to Lois, when they were left alone together in the office.
“God knows. There’s no telling with Mum. She must have been brooding on it before she made her announcement. Perhaps she really is fed up with housework. She’s getting on, after all.”
“Best if we leave it ’til this evening. Then we can ask her if she’s serious. After supper, maybe.”
“She might bring up the subject sooner,” said Lois. “And then what do we say?”
Lois was feeling bad, as if someone had kicked her in the stomach and winded her. Gran was such a solid part of Meade House. She had seen the children grow up there, witnessed the mixed blessing of the national lottery being won by Lois and Derek. She had consistently opposed Lois’s ferretin’, supporting Derek in all his attempts to persuade her to give it up.
Derek, too, was taken aback by Gran’s proposal. Surely she was happy living with them? They rubbed along together very well. At least, he had supposed they did. Perhaps they had taken her too much for granted, and this was her way of showing that she was fed up and needed a change and a rest.
“Maybe we’ve forgotten she’s an old woman, and no longer up to the job,” said Lois sadly.
“She’d not like to hear you say that,” Derek said. “Anyway, I’d best be off to work. We’ll think on it, and have a chat with her this evening.”
Five
Lois and Derek were still in bed, waiting to hear the sounds of Gran preparing breakfast, when it slowly dawned on Lois that there were no clattering dishes nor the usual off-key singing coming from the kitchen.
“Derek! What’s the time?”
“Mm? What? Oh, the time.” He turned over to look at the bedside clock, and shot up and out of bed. “Good heavens, it’s past eight! Come on, gel, look lively. I’ve got a full day’s work ahead.”
“Mum’s not up yet. Something’s wrong, Derek, and I’m going to see what’s happened to her.”
Last evening’s plan to discuss Gran’s bombshell had been thwarted when she announced after tea that she was going straight to bed to watch the Olympics on her television set upstairs. Discussion had to be postponed, and later, neither Derek nor Lois had found it easy to get to sleep.
Lois went along the corridor to her mother’s room and knocked gently. “Mum? Are you awake?”
No answer.
Lois knocked again, and then opened the door softly. She peered in, and was astonished to see a neatly made bed and no signs of occupancy. She shot downstairs, feet bare and nightie flapping around her legs.
The kitchen was quiet, and Jeems’s basket was empty.
Lois rushed to the foot of the stairs and shouted: “Derek! DEREK! Mum’s gone, and she’s taken Jemima!”
Derek looked down at her and smiled. “Lois dear,” he said. “It’s after Jeems’s usual walkies time, and I’ve just looked out of the bathroom window and seen your mum and your dog returning up the path. Best get dressed, and we’ll go down and listen to Gran’s explanation.”
*
“Breakfast not ready yet? You do know what the time is, I suppose, Lois? Your husband will be off to work with a hard-boiled egg in his pocket.” Gran hung Jeems’s lead on the hook, and kicked off her muddy shoes.
“Mum! For God’s sake, stop this playacting! If you’ve got a grievance, let’s have it and get it sorted out. Both Derek and me have busy days ahead, and we can’t be doing with you winding us up.”