Page 24

Willow

Once we’d freshened up back at the house, we made our way to Whitley Bay.

I was nervous to see Nana Jean, and my go-to response to anxiety was silence. That was evident in how much I isolated myself from everyone during my relationship with Cain.

My anxiety would rise like pouring into a cup, but the more it built, the more my ability to function would just stop . I’d freeze and could only work on autopilot. It was why I found work to be such a helpful outlet. I knew it well enough to work even through a haze.

But now I was on leave for an undisclosed amount of time with no outlet for my anxiety and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. This forced leave from work could make or break me, and it was terrifying.

Silence filled the car, as I stared out of the window and fidgeted with the cuff of my sleeves. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jack taking turns at watching the road, then me and back again.

“Tell me about your nan.”

It was no secret by now that I was extremely private. My relationship hadn’t been worth speaking of, but my family and childhood was a painful one that I struggled to find the words for.

“Nana Jean,” I puffed out air. “She’s the best person in the world.

” He smiled as he kept one firm hand on the steering wheel, the other casually placed over the bottom.

Everything about Jack looked so… in control.

Even the casual holding of the steering wheel, he just looked like he managed his life well, not it managing him.

I envied that. He glanced at me to keep talking.

“I was seven years old when my mum died. My dad left after the funeral, I guess he couldn’t cope.

Nana Jean picked me up from school and never left.

She gave me all the warmth of both parents.

She showed up to everything – birthdays, school shows, parents’ evenings, you name it, she was there.

” A fond smile pulled at my lips as we drove into the seaside town.

“Four years ago, she had a stroke. It stripped her of her ability to speak so she now uses a talking tablet to communicate.”

I sighed at the memory of Cain annoyed at my offer to pay for the tablet, despite reassuring him it would come out of my pocket.

“Her mobility is hindered and so she has to use a mobility scooter. But no matter what she’s been through, she still has a radiant smile and perfect personality.” I was in awe of my Nana Jean.

“Runs in the family,” Jack mused, and a blush grew up my neck. He had the ability to turn everything upside down. He’d managed to pull me out of fight-or-flight mode into rest-and-digest within minutes every single time.

Returning my gaze out the window, anxiety seeped in. Instead of bottling it up like I was so used to doing, I decided to be brave and share. After all, Jack hadn’t labelled anything I’d said so far as stupid or silly.

“I’m nervous about seeing her,” I whispered so quietly I was sure only the car window had heard me when it fogged up from my warm breath.

“To see your nan? Why?”

I kept my focus outside the car. Talking about my feelings was one thing, watching the reactions of others as I talked about them was another.

“I think this will be the first time I’ve ever disappointed her, and it scares me. I can’t help but feel like everyone could see what I couldn’t, and it’s so embarrassing. To think she was close to only ever seeing me in a miserable, toxic relationship makes me feel heavy.”

A silence filled the car as Jack pulled into the care home car park. He unclipped his seat and turned in his seat and I followed suit.

“I think I can only speak from the perspective of a father, but I don’t want you to think I’m parenting you, because that would be odd.

” He frowned at his words, but I laughed, agreeing.

“All we ever want for our children – grandchildren in this case – is for them to be happy. Thankfully, you realised this didn’t make you happy before it was too late.

How could she possibly be disappointed in you when she has the chance to see you come out the other side and have a second chance at being happy?

To witness a second chance is the greatest gift she could ask for. ”

I stared open mouthed at him, at his ability to completely throw me with his words, and before I knew it was happening, tears were overflowing down my cheeks, and Jack was pulling out a pack of tissues from the glove compartment with a look of anguish.

“Please don’t cry Willow, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“Oh no, you didn’t upset me,” I said, gesturing to my face as I sniffed and dabbed my tears away. “I’m just a wreck.”

He gave me a soft smile. “You’re doing brilliantly, Willow. You might be the only one not to see it right now, but you will.”

“Go spend some time with your nan, I’ll be right here.” Jack offered me a gentle smile and a hand on my upper arm before stepping towards an array of comfy armchairs.

I was getting too used to his smiles, they felt special, like they were just for me. But they weren’t, and he was just being a sweet friend.

Having already signed in at reception, I left Jack in the communal area and followed the corridor round.

Sandstone Care Home was two-storied, the building wrapped round like a circle, two corridors tearing off from the communal area and reception and leading to bedrooms, medical, and activity rooms. There was a peaceful garden, built perfectly for accessibility and to maintain skills such as gardening and creativity for the residents.

It was one of the best care homes in the area, and I was thankful that her care was mostly covered by the local authority, since she didn’t have much money in the bank. I paid a top-up to make sure she could stay here.

It was one of few arguments I’d had with Cain that I’d ever won. I was never sure what caused him to accept this one argument, but it would always remind me of his generosity.

Nana Jean’s room was on the ground floor with a partial view of the car park. I knocked on the door before gently opening it and found her in her mobility scooter by the window. She spun the chair around to face me, with a radiant smile to greet me. I rushed to her, giving her the biggest squeeze.

I took the armchair and watched her face drop as she took me in.

Her eyes stilled over the bruising on my face, then down to the bandaging on my left hand.

With her talking tablet attached to the arm of the scooter, she began to type with her right hand, the left paralysed. A female automated voice spoke.

“What has happened to you?”

I avoided her eye contact while I offered up the cliff-notes version.

“Cain and I broke up. It got messy, but I’m doing better.”

I reached over and took her hand, smiling. Her smile returned while I told her the loose details of the last few days, moving in with Jack, taking time off work. She listened intently and smiled wider when I told her of Elle’s reaction. She’d always been a cheerleader of Elle’s feisty nature.

“I’ve got a lot of rebuilding to do now, and I don’t know where to start. ”

I could be honest with Nana Jean. She was the nearest thing to a parent that I’d had for over twenty years.

I’d felt the loss of both my parents deeply, but it was never because I’d missed out on a parent, more the reaction of the other children in school finding me different.

I felt all the love I’d ever needed from both parents in one small old lady with frosty white hair, green-rimmed glasses, and an insistence on wearing varying shades of purple.

She was my safe space, my comfort blanket.

“It will be the making of you.”

I blushed, her words familiar.

“That’s what Jack said.”

“He sounds like a smart man. Will I get to meet him?” I rolled my eyes at her nosiness.

Nana Jean had lived in a rented bungalow on a cul-de-sac.

She’d lived there through marriage, raising children, and losing her husband.

It was a running joke that she was the neighbourhood watch rolled into one person.

Her nose was always between the curtains, watching the neighbours in their marital wars, bin day dramas and grumbling about the parents parking in the cul-de-sac as they picked their children up from nearby schools.

It was never done with malice, she simply wanted to know everything about everyone, even down to which slice they used first from a loaf of sliced bread.

“He’s in reception actually. He gave me a lift here.”

Interrupting her prying, a nurse entered the room with midday medication. I excused myself, needing to sort my monthly payments, but I needed to change my bank account first, and it was anyone’s guess how long it would take for HR to change that on their system.

If nothing else, I was adamant I’d sort my problems myself. I’d make my Nana Jean proud.