Granny never took to little Val, never really accepted him.
“Not one of ours, not one of ours,” shed say to the other women at the shop.
“Come off it, Annie,” someone would argue. “Look at himspitting image of your Dave, he is!”
“I know, in me head, hes Daves son,” shed sigh. “But me heart wont have it. With our Lisas kidsoh, theyre proper grandkids. But this one? Cant bring meself to care. Never raised im meself, did we? Runs about, babbles granny this, granny that… but nah. Every time I look at im, its like seein a stranger. Just not mine.”
Another woman would nod. “Aye, happens. Me own mum, rest her soul, doted on our Millys lotkissed em, coddled em, spoilt em rotten. But our Johnnys kids? Barely glanced their way. Used to rile em up proper, it did. And shed just say, Dont take it to heart, love. With a daughters bairns, you *know* its yours. But a sons? Well… you just never can tell.”
“Same in our house!”
“Ours too!”
“Blimey, Im just as bad,” anotherd admit. “Our Emmas lad? Proper little charmer, rosy-cheeked, dimples an all. Cant get enough of im. But our lads wifes kids? Cant stand em. Look just like *her* side, always snifflin or covered in muck. Tell er to clean em up, and she snaps, When dyou expect me to? Your son wants is meals hot and is floors scrubbed. When am I sposed to mind the kids?”
Annied shake her head. “Back in my day, we were up at four for milkin, still had bread kneaded and the stove lit before dawn. Left it for the others to finish while I dashed to the sheds. One time, left our Tony to watch the loafpoor thing was half-asleep. Asked old granddad to keep an eye, but he was past it. Knew I shouldntveran back, and there she was, face in the dough, hair stuck in it, fast asleep…”
The chatterd drift from sons to daughters, but Annied slip off quiet, realisin she wasnt aloneplenty of women felt the same about sons kids.
But Val? He *ached* for her attention. Thought if he got close to Granny, hed feel closer to Dad, whod gone up north years ago, back when Val was knee-high. Off to build roads or somethinnever came back. Still, Val wrote him letters, brought em to Granny Annie.
Mum said the old bat was the only one who knew where his useless father had got to. But Val knew Mum still loved Dad. She was just sore he hadnt taken *her* north, not just himself. Where was *he* sposed to go, eh?
Sometimes shed scream that Val and his dad ruined her life. Said she shouldve married John Spires insteadhad a houseful of *his* kids, lived like a queen.
Once, Val rolled cheese in butter in the toy lorry Granny Annied given himMum near threw it out. But Val clung to it. Felt like Dadd sent it. Probably hadlorry werent cheap. Dad mustve sent Granny the money. Mum screeched, but he kept it. Never understood why she wanted that other life anyway.
Then Dadd come home, and theyd be happier than any Spires.
One day, he went to Grannyscousin Grace was there, spoiled little madam. “Granny got *me* a doll,” she bragged, grinning. Val couldnt care less.
“And shes making *me* pancakes with cream!”
“*Everyones* getting pancakes,” Granny muttered. See? She *did* care.
Val sat through tea, asked if she needed help, then left.
“Ugh, finally,” Graces voice chased him out. But Granny snapped, “Shut your gob!” and his heart warmed. She *did* love him.
Later, he overheard Granny scolding Grace: “Yap, yap, yap! The lads not even out the door, and youre startin gossip? Ill tan your hide!”
“You wont!”
“Whys that?”
“Cos you love *me*! Im your favourite, your pretty, clever girl!” Grace clambered onto her lap.
“Oh, you little terror, my sweetheart…”
***
Dad never came back. Mum married Uncle Nick SpiresJohns cousin. Decent bloke. Never mistreated Val, though he doted on his own two with Mum. Granny Tessa, Nicks mum, doted on Val too.
Life was alright. Still visited Granny Annie, though he stopped the letters.
Before joining up, Val learned Dad had a new family up north. Granny visited *them* often.
It stung. “Whyd you never say?” he asked. “I waitedwrote all those letters”
“Codswallop,” she waved him off. “Theyre in the drawer. And your dad sent good moneyyour mum raised *another mans kids* on it.”
Val got blind drunk that nightfirst and last time. Screamed at Mum, Granny, Dad. Mum called him a drunk, a bastard, till Uncle Nick dragged him to the garage.
There, Val sobbednever cried as a kid, but now? Floodgates opened. Told Nick how kids called him “fatherless,” said Mumd dragged him home in her apron. Thats why he fought. Why he forced visits to Granny, even when unwelcome. Wrote letters she shoved in drawers.
Nick gripped his neck, their foreheads touching. “Listen. Youre my son. *Mine.* Ten years Ive been herethat makes you *my boy.*”
“Dad…”
“Son.”
Mum nearly barged in, saw the open bottle, but stopped. Shut the door. Told the little ones, “Leave emmens talk.”
Before basic training, Val went to Granny Annie. Lips pursed, she blessed him, wished him an easy service. Grace sneered, “Thank God *hes* offno more payin for someone elses brat.” Granny said nothing.
***
Army flew by. Val came back broad-shoulderedMum and *Dad* (no more “Uncle” Nick) brimmed with pride. Granny Tessa boasted of her handy grandsonfixed the fence the day he got back.
Grace now lived with Granny Annie, barred Val. “Dads got his own family. Who even knows if youre *his*?”
Granny stayed silent. Val stopped visiting.
He married, worked hard. Parents helped buy a house in townmoved Granny Tessa in too. Two kids, a car, no worries.
Then his back gave out. Dadd warned him”Lift proper, or youll wreck yourself.” Now he shuffled through hospital corridors like an old man, when shrill voices echoed:
“*my* problem? Youre the doctors*you* fix her!”
“Miss, with proper home care, your grandmother could recover”
“Oh, *please*. Im not wiping bums! *You* deal with it!”
“No grounds to keep her. If you refuse, well arrange a home”
“Shame on you, Grace!” a third voice cut in. “She raised you!”
“Just sign the papers,” Graces voice was ice.
Val stepped in. “No need. Ill take her.”
“And you are?”
“Her grandson.”
“Proof?”
He smirked. “Oh, aye.”
Grace scoffed. “Ooh, *hero*. After the inheritance? Toughshe left *me* the house.” She stormed out.
Val took Granny home. Mum just sighed, knowing how hed craved her love as a boy, while shed moaned about “tolerating” him.
But Granny thrivedwalking again, spoiling his kids, begging forgiveness. When her time came, Grace didnt even visit. Mum and Dad sent moneyGrace kept it.
“*Thats* the unwanted grandson?” the village gossiped.
Those whod picked favourites paused. What if *they* ended up like Annie?
“Kath, weigh me extra sweetsfor the grandkids…”
***
Funny, innit? Doted on Graceher daughters girl. But her sons boy? Nothing. Even seeing Dave in him, she couldnt love him. Yet *he* took her in. *He* walked her home.
Lifes funny that way.
