Something rotten

I took the paper and scanned the semi-blurred contents.

'It's a bit unusual,' admitted the Gryphon. 'I think the bit about the gingham is unnaturally cruel — might be the cause of an appeal on its own.'

I stared at the paper.

'Twenty years of my life in blue gingham,' I murmured.

'And you can't die until you've read the ten most boring books,' added the Gryphon.

'My gran had to do the same,' I explained, feeling just a little puzzled.

'Not possible,' said the Mock Turtle, drying his eyes. 'This sentence is unique, as befits the crime. You can take the twenty years of gingham any time you want — not necessarily now.'

'But my gran had this punishment—!'

'You're mistaken,' replied the Gryphon firmly, retrieving the paper, folding it and placing it in his pocket, 'and we had better be off. Will you be at Bradshaw's golden wedding anniversary?'

'Y-es,' I said slowly, still confused.

'Good. Page 221, Bradshaw and the Diamond of M'shala. It's bring a bottle and a banana. Drag your husband along. I know he's real but no one's perfect — we'd all like to meet him.'

'Thank you. What about—

'Goodness!' said the Gryphon, consulting a large pocket watch. 'Is that the time? We've got a lobster quadrille to perform in ten pages!'

The Mock Turtle cheered up a bit when he heard this, and in a moment they were gone.

I walked slowly back to where Landen and Friday were waiting for me in the car.

'Dah!' said Friday really loudly.

'There!' said Landen. 'He most definitely said 'Dad'!'

He noticed my furrowed brow.

'What's up?'

'Landen, my gran on my mother's side died in 1968.'

'And?'

'Well, if she died then, and Dad's mum died in 1979—

'Yes?'

'Then who is that up at the Goliath Twilight Homes?'

'I've never met her,' explained Landen. 'I thought 'gran' was a term of endearment.'

I didn't answer. I had thought she was my gran but she wasn't. In fact, I'd known her only about three years. Before that I had never set eyes on her. Perhaps that's less than accurate. I had seen her whenever I stared into a mirror, but she had been a lot younger. Gran wasn't my gran. Gran was me.

Landen drove me up to the Goliath Twilight Homes and I went in alone, leaving Landen and Friday in the car. I made my way with heavily beating heart to her room and found the ward sister bending over the gently dozing form of the old, old woman that I would eventually become.

'Is she suffering much?'

'The painkillers keep it under control,' replied the nurse. 'Family?'

'Yes,' I replied, 'we're very close.'

'She's a remarkable woman,' murmured the nurse. 'It's a wonder she's still with us at all.'

'It was a punishment,' I said.

'Pardon?'

'Never mind. It won't be long now.'

I moved closer to the bed and she opened her eyes.

'Hello, young Thursday!' said Gran, waving at me weakly. She took off the oxygen mask, was roundly scolded by the nurse, and put it back on again.

'You're not my gran, are you?' I said slowly, sitting on the side of the bed.

She smiled benevolently and placed her small, pink, wrinkled hand on mine.

'I am Granny Next,' she replied, just not yours. When did you find out?'

'I got my sentencing from the Gryphon just now.'

Now that I knew, she seemed more familiar to me than ever before. I even noticed the small scar on her chin from the charge of the Armoured Brigade way back in '72, and the well-healed scar above her eye.

'Why did I never realise?' I asked her in confusion. 'My real grandmothers are both dead — and I always knew that.'

The tired old woman smiled again.

'You don't have Aornis in your head without learning a few tricks, my dear. My time with you has not been wasted. Our husband would not have survived without it and Aornis could have erased everything when we were living in Caversham Heights. Where is he, by the way?'

'He's looking after the boy Friday outside.'

'Ah!'

She looked into my eyes for a moment, then said:

'Will you tell him I love him?'

'Of course.'

'Well, now that you know who I am, I think it's time to go. I did find the ten most boring classics — and I've almost finished the last.'

'I thought you had to have an 'epiphanic moment' before you departed? A last exciting resolution to your life?'

'This is it, young Thursday. But it's not mine, it's ours. Now, pick up that copy of The Faerie Queene. I am one hundred and ten and it is well past my out-time.'

I looked across at the table and picked up the book. I had never read the end — nor even past page forty. It was that dull.

'Don't you have to read it?' I asked.

'Me, you, what's the difference?' She giggled, something that turned into a weak cough that wouldn't stop until I had leaned her gently upright.

'Thank you, my dear!' she gasped when the fit had passed. 'There is only a paragraph to go. The page is marked.'

I opened the book but didn't want to read the text. My eyes filled with tears and I looked at the old woman, only to be met by a soft smile.

'It is time,' she said simply, 'but I envy you — you have so many wonderful years ahead of you! Read, please.'

I wiped away my tears and had a sudden thought.

'But if I read this now,' I began slowly, 'then when I am one hundred and ten years old I will already have read it, and then I'd be — you know — just before the last sentence before I — that is, the younger me—' I paused, thinking about the seemingly impossible paradox.

'Dear Thursday!' said the old woman kindly. 'Always so linearl It does work, believe me. Things are just so much weirder than we can know. You'll find out in due course, as I did.'

She smiled benignly and I opened the book.

'Is there anything you need to tell me?'

She smiled again.

'No, my dear. Some things are best left unsaid. You and Landen will have a wonderful time together, mark my words. Read on, young Thursday!'

There was a ripple and my father was standing on the other side of the bed.

'Dad!' said the old woman. 'Thank you for coming!'

'I wouldn't miss it, o daughter my daughter,' he said softly, bending down to kiss her on the forehead and hold her hand. 'I've brought a few people with me.'

And there he was, the young man whom I had seen with Lavoisier at my wedding party. He laid a hand on hers and kissed her.

'Friday!' said the old woman. 'How old are your children at the moment?'

'Here, Mum. Ask them yourself!'