“Don’t you dare touch her!”
Mum called, her voice thin and childlike, trembling through the phone:
“Emily, can you come home…?”
Her heart dropped into her stomach. She’d heard that tone beforewhen Grandad passed. Back then, the whole family had scrambled for black attire, though only William, her older brother, owned any, stuck as he was in his teenage rebellion against colour. They’d crammed into a stuffy train, drifting aimlessly through a strangers gloomy flat. Grandad had been an artist, surrounded by admirers, yet in the end, only his daughterMumhad been left to bury him. That same frail voice had cracked through the phone then, just like now.
“Whats happened?” Emily asked, nerves twisting as she imagined Adrians reaction if the wedding had to be postponed again. The first delay had been her faultskiing with friends, a reckless tumble, a broken leg. Adrian had raged at her, his parents having already booked flights and arranged leave, while shehed warned her! If she couldnt ski properly, why go?
But this time, it wasnt her fault. Yet guilt gnawed at her anyway.
“Grans ill. Just back from hospitalthe tests arent good.”
Emily knew Gran had been for tests, and if Mum had led with that, shed have been upset. But now? Relief flickeredno one had died, the wedding neednt be moved. If anything, they had to hurrybefore Gran…
Her throat clenched. The thought was unbearable. Gran had always been there. Mum had told her how, when Grandad left them penniless, Gran worked triple shifts just to keep food on the table. Only when Mum turned seventeen did the “great artist” deign to help, but Gran had carried them all those years. Even now, she slipped them moneyhow she managed on her pension, Emily couldnt fathom.
“Ill come now.”
Gran was trying to stay cheerful, even cracking jokes.
“Dont fret, love. Well manage. Theyll start chemomight even work. Shame about the hair, though. Had this plait all my lifecant picture myself without it.”
Grans hair was magnificentlong, thick. Though lately streaked with silver.
“How about we dye it before the wedding?” Emily suggested. “Youll be the loveliest there!”
Gran brightened but immediately fumbled for her purse.
“Gran, noIll pay for it!”
“Dont be daft, youve a wedding to fundas if I dont know how pricey things are now. Take it, no arguments. Oh, and Ive something for youhang on.”
She rummaged through the wardrobe, plastic rustling, until she pulled out a small pink bag.
“Three months knitting thiseyes arent what they were,” she murmured, and Emily sensed the quiet worry in her voice, waiting for approval.
Inside lay a delicate ivory shawlslightly old-fashioned, achingly tender. Emily decided then shed wear it on the day.
“Thank you, Gran, its perfect!”
“Margaret said youd never wear it,” Gran grumbled. “Never satisfied, that onemade her a yellow dress once, raglan sleeves, and she soaked it in ink just to spite me…”
Grans voice wavered, and Emily quickly reassured herMum had sworn it was an accident. The lie slipped easily from her lips.
Between tea, chatter, and dyeing Grans hair, evening fell. Emily had left her phone in the hall, missing the calls. Whod even ring today?
A knock came. William stood at the door, his best mate Christopher beside him, cradling a boxinside, a ginger kitten peered up, curious.
“Mrs. Eleanor, look what weve brought!” Christopher beamed.
Gran took one glance and burst into tears.
Three years ago, her beloved cat Toby had dieda ginger rogue with amber eyes, her companion for twelve years. Shed refused another pet, grieving too deeply.
“Chris, lovewhat use is a cat to me now? Im dying! Youll just toss him out after”
“Dont say that,” William cut in. “First, no ones tossing anyone. Secondguess youll have to stick around, then.”
“And whatll I feed him? Not even milk in the house!”
“Ill go!” Emily offered.
“Ill join,” Christopher added. “Fancy a bite myselfpick up something for tea…”
Truthfully, Emily didnt want to be alone with him. Something in his gaze unsettled herespecially when she handed him a wedding invite, and he replied, deadpan:
“Shame. Id hoped I still had a chance.”
But arguing in front of Gran was unthinkable, and dragging William along seemed silly. So they went.
Her worries proved needlessChristopher stayed quiet, murmuring only that he hoped Gran would recover. When she asked if Adrian would come to the wedding, he just said:
“Course.”
No more, though she sensed words left unspoken.
They bought a cake and pasties, which Gran sniffed at”I fry better.” William praised her newly dyed hair, while Christopher asked Emily to try the shawl, staring at her, spellbound. A good eveningshame Mum was on shift, unable to swap.
Then Emily checked her phone. Missed messages from Adrian. Shed forgottendinner with his parents tonight. He was furious.
“I told you I was visiting Gran,” she defended. “Shes been diagnosed, and”
“Shes had her time,” Adrian snapped. “No need to ruin ours. Mums devastated, you know.”
She rushed home to placate him. William drove her; Christopher promised to stay with Gran.
Home was a battlefield. Adrian ragedirresponsible, selfish, couldnt prioritise. When he saw the shawl, he called it “tasteless rubbish,” forbidding her to wear it.
Hoping hed cool down, Emily endured the clashes until the wedding evewhen Gran was hospitalised. She suggested cancelling, but Adrian snarled about lost deposits, paid venues, arriving guests. “Let her restshed just be in the way.”
Emily knew he hated the shawl. Knew Gran wouldnt be there. But photos would last. Gran had spent months knitting this. Shed wear it, no matter what.
“Love, why that old thing?” Mum fretted. “That gorgeous dresswhy spoil it? I know Gran”
Then Mum wept, smudging her makeup. Adrians arrival distracted her”Nothings ready, and the grooms here!” Emily hadnt wanted the silly games, the doll on the car, but his parents insisted. Waiting was agony, her bridesmaids gone to greet him, so she rang Gran.
“Could you visit me?” Gran asked softly. “Id love to see you.”
“Of course!” Emily said, though Adrian might protest. “Whos with the kitten?”
“Oh, Chris took him. Good lad…”
Christopher had volunteered as chauffeursomeone sober. William had declared hed drink his fill at his sisters wedding. Gran was righthe was good. Why hadnt she seen it before?
Then Adrian saw the shawl.
“Take that off! DisgustingI told you!”
Guests, photographers, familyall watching. Emilys cheeks burned.
“Stop. Its my wedding too.”
“My wife obeys me.”
“Im not your wife yet!”
Mothers tried mediating, but something snapped. She didnt want thisthe nitpicking, the bending, erasing herself for him.
“I want to see Gran.”
“Madness!” Adrian hissed.
She tried pushing past, but he seized her wrist, pain flaring.
“Dont you dare touch her!”
Christophers voicefury in his eyes.
“Piss off,” Adrian spat. “My wifeour business!”
Then William struck, fist connecting with Adrians nose. He grabbed Emilys hand.
“To Grans?”
Chaos eruptedshouting, Mum pleading, Adrians mother cursing. But Emily didnt care. She followed William, thinking only of Gran.
She caught Christophers eye and silently beckoned. He followed, catching up on the balloon-strewn steps.
