Page 30 of I Know How This Ends

“Can’t get rid of you, can I?”

With my feet, I try to close the front door behind me, a pile of boxes propped precariously under my chin. Glancing to the

right, I see my grandfather’s walking shoes still perched on the shelf where I left them.

Right. He lied about leaving the house. Good to know.

“Nope.” I lumber through to the living room and put the boxes down. “Sorry.”

“Looks like I’ll have to tolerate your presence again then.” Grandad grins at me from his chair. “It’s a chore, but somebody

has to do it.”

“Ever the stoic,” I say warmly, checking the room. “Did the cleaner come?”

She was supposed to turn up this morning, while I was being unexpectedly thrown into further inner turmoil by a married man

with lovely hair and zero morals.

“Oh yes!” Grandad lights up. “What a nice lady. So sprightly! We had a lovely long chat about you.”

“I bet you did,” I laugh. With highly complimentary and inaccurate editing, I’m guessing. At least this situation is something I can start fixing immediately. “So, I was thinking... You like learning new things, right?”

“Of course.” My grandfather nods and eyes the boxes curiously. “What have you got for me?”

“I’m glad you asked.” I grab the bird letter opener. “I think it might be time for you to start embracing technology. You know, so you can keep up with the kids, as befits a young and nimble-minded spirit like yourself.”

“I am nimble like a mountain goat.” My grandfather cocks his head slightly. “With similarly wobbly knees.”

“Indeed.” We grin at each other. “So I thought I’d drag you into this century.”

“No dragging necessary,” he smiles. “I will accompany you willingly.”

“Great.” I breathe out as I cut open one box, hoping he doesn’t get upset or embarrassed. I put the small round gray object

on the table. “Let me introduce you to a young lady called Alexa. You can talk to her and she’ll play you music and tell you

the time and the news and the weather, and even read you books. You just need to tell her whatever it is you want.”

“Goodness gracious,” Grandad says with amused blue eyes. “Can she make me a lamb hotpot?”

“Probably,” I grin. “Maybe let her settle in first.”

Pleased with his reaction, I impatiently rip open the next box: a Kindle, which I program so it has roughly two words per

page. Together, we download Steinbeck, Trollope and Dickens while I explain it all to him. Then a kettle, a magnifying glass,

a contraption for cutting vegetables, a new mobile phone and a TV remote control with buttons the size of strawberries. His

eyes widen with each new box, and I feel so much happiness at his expressions that for a moment I’m not sure where to put

it. True to form, I focus on cursing the letter opener instead.

“Margot,” he says finally, just as I pull out a new camera. “Halt.”

Surprised, I look up and realize his bright blue eyes are glistening and wet. Guilt flushes through me. I didn’t want him

to feel embarrassed or as if I think he’s weak. “Grandad, I’m so sorry, I just—”

“I know what you’re doing,” he says firmly. “You have hidden it poorly.”

“Oh. I thought I was being incredibly subtle and nuanced.”

“Meg, I love you, but subtlety is not one of your strongest qualities.” He lifts his bushy eyebrows. “You are the human equivalent

of a bullet.”

“Accurate.” I nod. “But I just thought that...”

He reaches forward and takes my hand.

“My world is never going to be completely dark as long as you are in it,” my grandfather says quietly. “You don’t need to

worry about me.”

I make a choking sound and try to swallow. “I—”

“Having said that,” he grins cheekily, squeezing my hand and staring at all his new gadgets with what looks like genuine excitement,

“I am very much looking forward to revisiting books again, and maybe casually chopping a few carrots. I suspect Alexa and I shall get

on famously. What a gift you have given me. What gifts . You just happen to be my favorite, that’s all.”

I feel my eyes well up and quickly wipe them on my jumper.

“Shut up, Grandad.”

“I absolutely shall not, Margot.”

We beam at each other as my phone beeps.

You got the job. X

For just a second, I assume it’s from Polly and think: blimey, that was fast.

Then I see it’s from Henry and laugh loudly.

The cleaning job? Yesssss x

A beep.

Obviously not, you were rubbish. You got the considerably harder job of another date with me, if you want one. Tuesday? X

My entire body lights up as I laugh again.

Deal. As long as I get another fiver at the end. X

Glowing, I put my phone away and realize my grandfather is watching me. He looks ridiculously pleased. Nay, smug.

“Henry?”

“Henry,” I confirm. “He forgave me.”

“Ah.” He nods. “I thought he might.”

“Anyway.” I change the subject so I don’t have to dissect this relationship in gory detail before it’s ready for that level

of analysis. “I have one more surprise for you, Grandad. And I’m sorry in advance. We’re opening Pandora’s box, and there’ll be nothing either of us

can do to close it again.”

I help Grandad to his feet and walk him slowly into the family room, where I attach a camera to the enormous smart TV and

hit a few buttons. Luckily, his television is pretty much brand-new: it’s the one thing of value I stole from Aaron, mwahahaha .

“This is exciting.” Grandad sits carefully on the sofa. “What adventure shall you unleash on me now, Meg?”

“Total chaos.” I pick up my phone, hit the right button and cast the image onto the screen. The little camera attached to

the front glows blue. “We won’t be able to take this back, I’m afraid. So... apologies. Again.”

There’s a loud ringing sound and suddenly my mother’s nostrils appear in HDTV, the size of dinner plates.

“Maggie! Finally! Are you...” Mum frowns and leans forward. “Where are you? Is that...” She inhales. “ George! Get your bottom here right now!”

“Ugh, can a man not water his rhododendrons in peace?”

Dad appears and his face lights up so fiercely I have to swallow a lump in my throat again.

“Dad! What are you doing on our phone?”

“Well, hello!” Grandad’s entire body is radiating happiness. “George! There you are! You’re huge! I can see you! Gosh, don’t you look tanned? What’s the weather like over there? Is it unwelcomely warm?”

I laugh: here we go, straight back into vague weather discussions.

“I’ll make you a fresh coffee, George,” Mum says, giving me an approving little glance. “Looks like we’ll be here awhile.”

Something tells me my parents will now be harassing my grandfather daily until he begs me to throw the television out of the

living-room window.

“ Well ,” Dad grins, settling down comfortably, “it’s inordinately hot, but not in a humid way, you know? Do you remember that holiday

we had in France when I was about ten? It’s pretty much like that, but...”

As I smile and leave my grandfather and his only child chatting—thousands of miles between them evaporating—it suddenly feels

like nothing else matters that much. For just this moment, my Instagram account, Winter’s fury, the visions, Polly’s looming

heartbreak... my worries seem to fade away into a faint gray fog.

After all, what is more important than seeing, and being seen?

By the time they finish talking, it’s dark outside.

In the meantime, I’ve pottered around, setting up various gadgets. I also make sure I rip off the calendar month, and discover

an impatient little robin waiting to be revealed. With a small smile, I put the month of the blue tit in my bag.

The month has turned and it’s a new start, for all of us.

Finally, the weather has been discussed to its fullest extent, so I tentatively return to the living room.

“So, Dad, you’ll just be able to press that button whenever we call!”

“So I will.” Grandad smiles as Dad goes back to his plants. He glances at me: there goes his remaining time with his three

thoughts. “What a joy and a revelation.”

“Maggie!” Mum appears just as I’m showing Grandad where the Go Away switch is on the remote control. “Can I have a moment with you?”

“Um.” I’m immediately wary. “Sure.”

No doubt she wants to talk about Henry and his potential as my future husband. I’m doing quite enough of that myself without

my mother jumping in too.

“I’ll go and introduce myself to Alexa,” Grandad says quietly, standing up with visible effort. “I suspect it shall be quite

the interaction.”

I smile at him, nod and take the warm seat he’s just left.

“Thank you,” she says. “I don’t think you realize how much that meant to your dad. Or to me. He’s been putting on a brave

face, but I don’t think he’s adjusting well to being so far away from his father. Or you, actually.”

“Oh!” I nod, surprised. I wasn’t expecting that. “It’s no big deal.”

“It is,” Mum disagrees gently. “He’s homesick, he’s gardening way too much, and this has really helped. So thank you. You’re a good girl, Maggie.”

I feel myself flush with pleasure, and I wriggle uncomfortably. “Nah.”

“I know I sometimes push you a little too hard, but it’s only because I want you to be happy. You know that, don’t you?”

I frown. “Obviously.”

“And you know how much I love you?”

“Of course.” Now I’m really confused. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, darling.” Mum is visibly struggling with the expression of her emotions, as always. Like mother, like daughter.

“It’s just... all this distance. I think we’d spent so long focused on what our retirement would look like, being back

in Australia, that we didn’t really think about what we’d be leaving behind.”

“Mum.” I lean forward. “Nothing exciting is happening without you, I promise. You guys just need to focus on having fun and

relaxing.”

I miss you horribly and I want you to come home immediately seems far too selfish, even for me.

“I suppose.” Mum scratches her eyebrow. “All this sunshine is doing my head in, Maggie. I’ve started fantasizing about gray

skies, constant rain and wet feet.”

I laugh. “Don’t worry, that’s all still here too.”