The Way We Were by Marcia Willett Page B

asks. ‘I know she's rather fierce, and one of the old school and all that, but I rather like your old gran. It must be horrid for her.’
    â€˜She has very little money of her own,’ explains Tiggy. ‘Not enough to buy a house, however small, and she seems bent on giving most of her allowance to me, which is very nice for me, and with my savings it means that I can pay my way here and keep a bit put by, but I worry about her. I just can't think how she'll react when I tell her about the baby.’
    Now, as she walks amongst the rocks in the late afternoon sunshine, with the sea dazzling away to the west, her grand-mother is very vivid with her, and she determines that she will go straight back and write the letter.
    Julia meets her at the door, her face serious. ‘Oh, Tiggy, I've got some bad news. I've just had a call from your grand-mother's housekeeper. Mrs Hartley, isn't it? Your grandmother's had a stroke.’
    Tiggy stares at her blankly and Julia takes her by the arm, leading her into the kitchen, away from the sitting-room where the twins are watching Roobarb , and pushes her down on to a chair.
    â€˜They've decided not to take her into hospital but Mrs Hartley and a nurse are with her.’ Julia sits down beside her, turning sideways to look at her. ‘Mrs Hartley said that she'll be listening out for the phone. Would you like to call her?’
    Tiggy nods vaguely, because she knows that she should, yet she is unable to react properly. The first great wave of panic and horror has receded, leaving her incapable of action, and she struggles to brace herself.
    â€˜Wait,’ says Julia suddenly. ‘Just wait a minute. It's such a shock, isn't it? We'll have a cup of tea first. Give yourself a chance to recover.’
    Andy appears, demanding juice, and Julia fills two tumblers and carries them away to the sitting-room, with Andy in close attendance. She reappears with Charlie, who beams at Tiggy and gives her his Episcopalian salute. Despite her misery she smiles and holds out her arms to him. Julia puts him on her lap and Tiggy hugs him, her cheek resting on the top of his head, whilst he thumps on the table with his fist and talks his scribble-talk.
    Julia pushes a mug of hot tea across the table, her pretty face so troubled that Tiggy's eyes fill with tears. It is beyond her greatest expectation, this love the little family has given her: it is quite outside her experience. She remembers her own lonely life as a child – her parents’ rages and silences, her mother's death and her father's destructive behaviour – and she hides her face for a moment in Charlie's soft neck. He twists his head, trying to see her face, puzzled, and she smiles and kisses him.
    â€˜After all,’ she says sadly to Julia, sipping the tea and putting the mug down well out of Charlie's reach, ‘Grandmother is well over eighty. It's not so terribly surprising, is it? The fact is, we never think about the people close to us being ill. Probably because we don't want to. Because we need them we want to think that they are indestructible.’
    She drinks some more tea and tries to smile reassuringly at Julia. ‘I'm fine now,’ she says. ‘Honestly. I think I'll phone Mrs Hartley.’
    The housekeeper's soft Welsh voice is calm: no, nothing can be done at present, no point in setting out so late in the day on so long a journey, better to wait until the doctor has seen her grandmother in the morning. Yes, she will give her Tiggy's love when she regains consciousness.
    They talk for a little longer and then Tiggy hangs up.
    â€˜It doesn't sound very good,’ she tells Julia. ‘Grandmother is paralysed all down her right side and she can't speak; she's not properly conscious. The doctor isn't very hopeful. They've been in touch with my father and he's on his way. Mrs Hartley clearly thinks that there's not much use my being there. Oh, she didn't put it into so many