Open Writing

I know grandparents aren't supposed to have favourites, but I've always felt my grandmother and I had a special rapport. She says I remind her of herself when she was young.

I make a point of visiting her at least once a week. In fact she's given me a key, so I can let myself in if she isn't at home. I often go there to study because it's more peaceful than being at home with my three rowdy brothers.

On this occasion, I had wonderful news I wanted to share with her. I'd just found out I'd been accepted to train as a nurse at St Thomas's when I left school at the end of the year. It's the same hospital where Gran did her training years ago.

I undid the latch on her gate and made my way up the gravel drive to her backdoor. I knocked, but received no reply. Strange, I thought, as I'd phoned to tell her I was coming and she hadn't said anything about going out. I took the key from my pocket and let myself in.

"Gran! Gran!" I called. "It's me, Emma." I waited for her usual cheery, "I'll put the kettle on," but instead there was an uncanny silence. Something was terribly wrong.

As she's getting on in years, my first thought was maybe she'd had a fall, or worse still, suffered a heart attack or a stroke. With dread I made my way through to the conservatory off the kitchen, a lovely sunny area of the house where she spends a lot of her spare time working on her quilting. To my relief there she was sitting in her favourite chair.

Unable to contain my excitement, I blurted out, "I have the most wonderful news Gran, I've been accepted at St Thomas's." She looked at me and smiled. I was surprised. My news was not received with the enthusiasm I'd expected.

She looked preoccupied and her eyes were red, as though she'd been crying. Moving towards her I asked, "Is something the matter, Gran?"

"No. No dear, I'm just being a silly old woman. I'm very pleased about St Thomas's and I hope you'll enjoy it there as much as I did."

With that two large tears rolled down her face.

I knelt down beside her chair and put my arms around her. "Do tell me what's upset you Gran." I noticed she was clutching what looked like a wrinkled aerogramme in her hand. "Have you received bad news?" I asked.

"No, in a way I suppose it's good news." She took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes. "I've just received a letter from my friend Kate. She's out in Australia visiting her daughter. She said she ran into Richard Manning. Such a coincidence. Of all the people in Australia_."

"Who's Richard Manning?" I interrupted.

Gran twisted her hankie around her finger and stared straight ahead as if looking for inspiration. "He was_ How shall I put it? He was_.an old flame."

This was interesting, I'd never thought of Gran with anybody apart from Grandpa, who'd died last year.

"Tell me more. Did Grandpa know about him?"

"No. Richard was well before I met your grandfather."

"Yes, go on," I urged.

"You don't want to hear about my seedy past," she joked.

"Oh, but Gran I do. I really do. It often makes you feel better about things to get them out in the open," I proffered, in an attempt to encourage her to reveal all.

"Well, not a word to anybody," she cautioned. "This is strictly between the two of us."

I nodded.

"Richard was the love of my life," she began. "He was a house surgeon at St Thomas's when I was a student nurse. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, with charm to spare. We were besotted with each other and planned to marry when once we'd qualified. Then Richard got the idea in his head he wanted to emigrate to Australia. There were a lot of people leaving England to settle in the colonies, about that time. I don't suppose I can blame them, after what we'd all been through during the war. Although, it seemed to me to be disloyal, leaving your country when it was trying to rebuild. I begged him not to go, but he was insistent. As far as he was concerned, Australia was the land of milk and honey.

"We began to quarrel. He said if I loved him, I'd go with him. I was only twenty-one. I didn't want to leave my family, my friends, everything that was familiar to me. I felt if I stood my ground he'd back down."

Gran sighed. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "To cut a long story short, he finally went to Australia. The day I went to Southampton to see him off was one of the worst of my life. As he kissed me good bye he said, "Mary, no matter what, I'll love you for the rest of my life. Please don't forget me and remember, I'll wait for you to join me, no matter how long it takes."

It broke my heart to see him sail into the distance. We wrote quite regularly for a few months, but the letters became less frequent until they petered out altogether. I presumed he'd met somebody else. By that time I had met your grandpa. Although there was never the passion I'd felt for Richard, I loved him dearly. As you know, we married and were very happy together."

"Well, things turned out happy ever after then didn't they?"

"Of course they did dear, but I've never stopped loving Richard and I've often wondered over the years, what my life might have been like had I gone to Australia."

Still curious as to what'd reduced Gran to tears, I asked, "What did your friend say in her letter that made you so upset?"

This was a question I should obviously not have asked. The tears she'd been holding back broke through and she began to sob helplessly. I'd never seen Gran like that before; she was usually so happy and full of life.

I was out of my depth. "Do you think I should go and get Mum? I asked.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "No, don't you dare! I'm a silly old woman and it's very insensitive of me to unburden myself on you."

"That's alright Gran," I said, rubbing her back. "I'll make us a nice cup of tea."

I made my exit, leaving her to compose herself.

When I returned with the tea she looked more her old self. She'd washed her face, applied fresh make-up and was working on her current quilting project. I poured her tea and we sat in quiet contemplation.

"In answer to your question," she finally said, "my friend told me in her letter that Richard had never married. He told her, to tell me, he's still waiting for me. She thinks I should go out there and be with him."

Wow! My Gran travelling to the other side of the world to be with the love of her life who'd waited nearly 50 years for her! I'd never heard of anything more romantic.

I didn't stop to think. "Yes! Yes, Gran, you must go! We could all go out for the wedding. Oh Gran, it's just so romantic. I'm sure Grandpa wouldn't have wanted you to spend the rest of your life being lonely. If you don't go, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Amused by my youthful enthusiasm, she gave me a big grin. "I'll think about it. But remember, not a word to anybody."

Having had time to think things through myself, by the time I returned to her place several days later, I was torn between wanting to see her reunited with her lost love and wanting her to stay in England, where I could go on visiting her regularly.

"Gran, it's me, Emma," I called.

"I'll put the kettle on," she called back.

She was certainly more upbeat than last time I'd seen her. Did this mean she was going to Australia?

"So have you made up your mind?" I asked as we sat down at the kitchen table to have our tea.

"Yes, I have. And no, I'm not going."

"Why ever not?"

"Too many years have passed and I still don't want to leave England."

"Maybe you could go for a holiday," I coaxed, "and persuade him to come back with you. After all, he hasn't any family, so there's nothing to keep him there."

"That's not the point, Emma. I remember Richard as a strong, handsome, young boy, not the gray, wrinkled, old man he'd be by now. And let's face it, I'm certainly not the girl he left behind. I loved the boy he was, not the man he is now. I doubt we'd even recognize each other. We'd be two strangers with nothing in common.

"I've always treasured the memory of the time we spent together. To see him again after all these years would do nothing but shatter those memories. I think it prudent I stay here. That way, I keep those memories intact and I also have the memories of my life with your grandpa all around me.

"Now, I'd be pleased if you didn't mention the subject again."

She sipped her tea. Then putting her cup back in the saucer, she looked at me wistfully, "Emma," she said, "A word of advice, if you meet somebody special when you're at St Thomas's, follow your heart."

Emai: brian.marie@paradise.net.nz