‘You having fun, Gran?’ Audrey delivered her another cup of tea.
Veronica was smiling. She’d stopped all the way down the group feed at a post from December last year.
‘Whoa, you must’ve had to go through hundreds of posts to get that far back,’ said Audrey.
‘This is the Christmas tree last year. There’s always one on the field, or some call it the green, out past the end of Mapleberry Lane, the end past the high street. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was.’ The autumn winds rattled the window pane as though to remind them both that Christmas wasn’t all that far away and the seasons were gearing up for a change.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing it,’ Audrey smiled.
Veronica tried to focus on the video below, on the tree and the green space, and the faint sounds of carols in the background. The sounds of a season she’d loved right up until her own world fell apart. Then it had only reminded her of what she’d lost and even Layla begging her to have a tree last year hadn’t worked.
‘Let’s go back into your Facebook, Gran, see if they’ve approved your joining request.’ With a few taps on the keyboard, they were back there as Gran kept her brain in gear remembering her password. She scrubbed it off the cheat sheet. ‘It’ll keep my mind active, having to remember it, and besides, you should never write passwords down.’
‘You’re right,’ Audrey replied as Veronica typed in her details and once she was into her account, the notification was already there to say her request had been accepted.
‘I’m not sure I want to write anything just yet.’
‘It’s all totally up to you.’
But Veronica wasn’t daft. She knew, like most things, the more you put into it, the more you got out of it. ‘Look at this post,’ she said, peering closer to the screen, ‘it’s from Carole who works in the bakery to let everyone know she’s taking maternity leave. I remember her, she was always nice to me.’ Veronica could also remember the panic attack one morning out front and Carole taking her home on her arm, shutting up shop to do so, thinking not of herself but of someone else. She’d been kind that day and Veronica had never forgotten it. ‘I’m going to send my best wishes.’
‘Go for it!’
Veronica typed a short message into the comments wishing Carole well, saying she hoped to hear news of the addition to her family soon.
Audrey beamed. ‘See, you’re getting to know your local community already. And you met Tanya today too, she’s local, so that’s someone else. Gran, I do believe you’re really doing this.’
Veronica supposed that in a weird way, she actually was.
Veronica woke before midnight needing the loo. It must have been all the tea she and Audrey got through yesterday evening as they chatted and then had another play with Facebook. Sam was out at the pub with Clare, Layla would’ve been in bed hours ago, and she and Audrey had sat in the study and looked at the various social media – some odd, some useful. There were even book groups she could join and talk about current reads. Veronica saw she could be a part of something more without having to think about leaving the house. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for that but Veronica wasn’t daft, she knew that’s what Audrey was trying for and she wasn’t about to disappoint her granddaughter by telling her it might never happen.
Veronica was heading back to her room when she noticed a light coming from downstairs. She realised Sam must be home and when she reached the kitchen, her daughter was standing at the sink facing the window. And if Veronica wasn’t mistaken, she was crying.
‘Sam?’ she said softly so as not to wake Audrey. ‘Sam, what’s happened?’
Sam had her back to her, her blonde hair pinned up with wet strands dangling down, the bunched collar of her snuggly dressing gown wrapped around her neck. ‘I’m losing her, Mum.’
‘Whatever are you talking about? Losing who?’ She wanted to hug her close, comfort her, but they had never been physically affectionate, not since Sam was six or seven and she’d needed her mother’s loving arms around her. Then her father’s arms had taken their place and that was that.
‘I’m losing Audrey.’
Sam turned and after wiping away her tears noticed the change. ‘Mum, your hair…it’s gone.’
Veronica smiled. ‘It has. What do you think?’
‘About time,’ was all Sam said, and managed a little laugh through tears.
‘Audrey did my make-up too. I’ll get her to do it again sometime so you can see the finished results for yourself.’
‘I’d really like that.’
‘Come, sit down over here.’ She led them over to the table, hoping Sam would open up to her. Her daughter didn’t take much prompting.
‘Audrey wants to go to New Zealand.’
‘To see her dad?’
‘To live with her dad.’
A familiar feeling of panic rose within Veronica. She couldn’t let that happen, not now. She was inside, in her house, she was safe. She had to keep that in her head for Sam. ‘She’s never mentioned a thing to me.’
‘Nor to me either. She’s thrown it at me a few times in anger over the years, but I figured all kids do that so I never took it seriously, until I found some leaflets and books in her room.’ She shook her head and swore loudly. ‘I’ve emailed Simon to ask him exactly what’s going on. I need to know what plans have been made, how far they are along, what formal applications with regards to visas have been lodged.’ She shook her head and swore loudly but the anger turned to tears again. ‘This is all such a mess.’
Veronica handed her a tissue and waited for her to calm down. There wasn’t much she could say; she knew what it felt like to lose a child, to have a distance between you that was so vast you couldn’t possibly reach the other
