A Taste of Home

of sand before I had even drawn so much as a love heart with it. Its sparkling charm was completely extinguished.
‘You and Bill are going to be having some difficult conversations and working through some tricky times and what you’ll both need more than anything is a friend, isn’t it?’ Eliot carried on. ‘And I’d really like to be that person, Fliss. For you as well as him.’
It was an extremely kind offer and given the limited number of people I knew here in Wynbridge I considered myself most fortunate to have Eliot’s wonderfully broad shoulders to cry on. I knew I could call the Rossis and tell them what was happening, but a proper hug and a sympathetic ear close by, was going to be much appreciated in the days to come.
‘I’d like you to be that person, too,’ I said, standing on tiptoe and kissing his cheek. ‘Thank you, Eliot.’
We looked at each for a moment and then he pulled his helmet on and started the bike.
‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said, his voice muffled. ‘And don’t worry about looking after Bill. Between you, you’ll be just fine.’
I finished hanging out the washing, told myself I was fortunate to have Eliot as a friend, and that I must set my lustful feelings for him to one side. He was right, a new relationship would be an added complication neither of us needed right now. With a resigned sigh, I went back inside to check on Grandad.
‘And what are you up to now?’ I tutted, when I found him with the bed covers pushed back and his feet resting on the floor.
‘Has Eliot gone?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The knight in shining armour has mounted his trusty metal steed and gone to rescue someone else. You didn’t tell him off for not letting on about me, did you?’ I asked, just to make sure.
‘No,’ he said. ‘He’s a good lad and I know he had my best interests at heart. He always does. And besides, I daresay, his mother had more to do with you staying on here than anyone else, didn’t she?’
Nothing escaped this man’s notice.
‘Never mind that now,’ I said, not wanting to dob Louise in. ‘What exactly are you planning to do?’
‘I just want to have a stretch,’ he said. ‘I’ve been in this blasted bed too damn long.’
‘But I don’t know what to do,’ I said, feeling nervous.
‘Do?’ he chuckled. ‘You haven’t got to do anything. Other than make sure I don’t end up on my backside!’
I had to laugh at that.
‘Here,’ I said, stepping forward. ‘Let me just help you up.’
We took a couple of very slow turns around the room, as much for my confidence as Grandad’s benefit, and then went into the kitchen.
‘You’ve been tidying up,’ he said, noticing the less cluttered dresser and the fresh flowers in jars along the windowsill.
‘I hope that’s all right? I’m not very good at twiddling my thumbs and I wanted to make myself useful.’
I didn’t mention my list-making.
‘Well, you’ve certainly done that,’ he smiled approvingly. ‘It all looks lovely. The place has missed having a woman’s touch. Not,’ he added with a wink, ‘that we’re supposed to say such things in these enlightened times.’
I thought I’d let him get away with it, just this once.
‘Do you know,’ he yawned. ‘That’s me done. It’s been quite a morning, hasn’t it?’
‘It certainly has,’ I agreed.
I was pretty tired out myself.
‘Do you think it would be all right if I had an early nap?’
‘I think it would be fine,’ I told him. ‘Let’s get you back into bed.’
I had hoped that once Eliot had been to help whoever Vicky had drafted him in to take care of, he would come back and take over with Grandad again, but there was no Ducati rumble either nearby or in the distance and that was a shame, because there was something specific I wanted to do that went beyond doling out pills and straightening sheets. Something that I hoped we would be able to do for Grandad together.
Steeling myself to be brave and think positive, even though I was flying solo, I mentioned it to Grandad.
‘I have a feeling Eliot isn’t going to make it back today, and I don’t know how we’ll manage it between us,’ I told him, ‘but we’re going to try and get you up those stairs and into your own bed tonight.’
There, I’d said it.
‘There should be a set of instructions from the hospital physio about here somewhere,’ Grandad immediately said. ‘She printed them out to remind me how to go up and down stairs and steps safely.’
The fact that he hadn’t said he’d manage another night in the single bed was proof enough that he really did want to be back in his own space and I resolved to do whatever was needed to make that happen.
‘Your paperwork from the hospital is in a file in the kitchen,’ I told him, remembering seeing Eliot look through it. ‘I’ll get it out and then we can read the instructions together and,’ I added, ‘as you’ll be sleeping in there tonight, would you mind if I went into your room and gave it an airing?’
‘Of course not,’ he smiled. ‘There are already clean sheets on the bed, but some more fresh air would be most welcome.’
‘You can’t beat it, can you?’ I smiled back. ‘I’ve always got the windows open. Mum moans about it all the time in the winter.’
‘She was the same when she was growing up,’ Grandad told me, thankfully not noticing the tears I tried to blink away as I realised not only what I’d said, but that I’d been struck by the realisation that Mum would never feel the cold again. ‘Always moaning about being cold, right from autumn through to spring…’ His words tailed off and then he added, ‘You can air her room too, if you like. Have you looked in it yet?’
‘No,’ I said, fussing with the cushion on