Kook. Chris Vick

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      I DIDN’T REMEMBER anything about Grandma. And I only knew what Mum had told me. That she was old and dying of cancer. That she had months left.

      Maybe.

      She lived in a massive house near a rocky point called Cape Kernow. A house that would be ours one day.

      We’d come back, Mum said, so Grandma could get to know her one grandchild and only heir. That was me, Tegan being the result of a fling that had lasted the time it took Mum to get pregnant.

      Things were pretty broken between Mum and Grandma, I knew that. They didn’t get on. There’d been some fallout after Dad died. Maybe because Mum took us to London. Mum never told me. Now we’d come back to Cornwall to help ‘mend’ things, though I didn’t have a clue as to what it was that needed mending.

      I had an idea of some old manor, all dank and dark and smelling of cabbage and cat’s piss. I pictured my grandma in a huge bed, with grey hair and greyer skin, fading away, with us at her side, listening to her final, totally wise words.

      I was wrong.

      The house was big, square and white, with large windows and a front door painted ocean blue. The house’s name was painted on the wall in thin black letters. ‘Where Two Worlds Meet.’

      A short, skinny, tanned woman answered the door. She was dressed in jeans, a smock and headscarf. At first I thought maybe she was the cleaner.

      Wrong again.

      Grandma had these bright blue eyes that seemed a whole lot younger than she was.

      “Oh, Sam,” she said, then flung herself at me and held me tighter than anyone ever had.

      “Grandma?” I said, hugging her back. Kind of. I felt embarrassed. She was a stranger. She stopped hugging, but got a good hold on my shoulders, like she wasn’t going to let me go. Not after all this time.

      “My God, if he could see you now.”

      “Hello, Grandma,” I said. It was odd. She was a total stranger, but she had the same eyes and square jaw as my dad. And yeah, I could see how I looked like her too.

      “And you must be Tegan,” she said. Teg got ready for a big hug, but all she got was her hair ruffled.

      Grandma left Mum till last. “Hello, Jean,” she said. They air kissed. Mum had a frozen smile on her.

      But Grandma was really smiling. She was so happy, she was working hard to stop the tears.

      “Are you… okay, Grandma?” I said.

      “Never better, Sam. Come in, the kettle is on. There’s scones too.” She wiped the tears away and led us through a hall to a large lounge on the other side of the house. There were huge leather sofas and chairs, and dark red rugs covering the wooden floor. The walls were white, with bookshelves, a mirror and paintings of the sea.

      But what I noticed most was the view. The house was so near the cliff, when you looked out the window you didn’t even see rock, or land, just this great big blanket of blue and green.

      We sat down, while she went out to get the tea. We didn’t talk, we just sat there, taking it all in.

      Grandma came back with a tray loaded up with scones and cream, jam and tea. Before she organised it all, she set Tegan up in the biggest chair, by the fireplace, with a set of crayons and a pad pulled out of a WHSmith’s bag.

      She glanced at Tegan, to make sure she was distracted, then said to me, “I hope you like the house,” and gave me this weird loaded look. Then I twigged. She meant, the house I’m giving you; the house you’ll live in when I’m dead. She was going to die. We were getting the house. Some people dodge around the awkward stuff, the big stuff. Others just get to it. She was one of those. I didn’t know what to say to that.

      “We’ll sort all that out,” she said, seeing the look of confusion on my face. “There is so much to plan. But first, tell me all about the move, your new cottage. What you have been up to…”

      She talked on and I answered as best as I could. It was nice, but I thought it was weird how everything she said was to me, not Mum. All the time she was staring at me, real keen, and I couldn’t help but stare back. Apart from the headscarf, which I guessed was to cover her bald head from the chemo, she didn’t look ill. Not even that old.

      “So, СКАЧАТЬ