Chapter Eight

A s her nan slid the steaming mug of tea towards her across the small kitchen table, Debbie wrapped her hands around it and pulled it close. Looking up, she watched her nan settle into the chair opposite and take a sip of her drink. She had new lines around her eyes, creases across her forehead, but her eyes were the same pale green kind eyes they always had been. ‘I'm so sorry.'

‘Now what on earth have you got to apologise for, sweetheart?' Reaching across the table, her nan took her hand in hers.

‘Because I've left it so long. Because I should have visited sooner. I should never have stopped replying to your letters, your birthday cards. For everything.'

‘Hey, Debbie. You've had your own life to lead. I understand that.' Florrie spoke softly.

‘I never visited. After Dad...' Debbie shifted in her chair. ‘I should have done. You'd have needed people around you more than ever and I should have come down here.'

‘You were just a child.' Her nan pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and passed it across to Debbie before standing up and tearing off a piece of kitchen roll to dab at her own eyes. Sitting back down, she spoke again, her voice cracking. ‘I understand why you couldn't visit, why you couldn't come back to the place where you found out your dad had gone. Your mum explained it all to me.'

‘She did?' Debbie wiped the handkerchief across her face, the fabric soft against her skin. She hadn't realised her mum had spoken to her nan about why Debbie had refused to visit the bay again.

‘She did. That's why I visited you instead.'

‘And then we moved up to Scotland.' Debbie sighed.

‘That's right. I should have come up and I've regretted not making that journey time and time again, but I wanted you and your mum to have a fresh start, to recover from the trauma of the past and I thought that was the best way.'

‘I missed you.' Debbie's voice was quiet. She'd spent all this time believing it was her fault, believing that she'd been the one to let her nan down and yet her nan had been here feeling exactly the same.

‘As you grew up, I knew you'd have your own life going on, friends to visit, college, a job, adventures to pursue. I understood why you didn't have time to reply to my letters and my calls, but I regret every day that I let them peter out. If only I had continued writing, reaching out, things may have been different. I did try again a few years ago. I wrote to you, but when it came back through my letterbox with Return to Sender stamped on it, I assumed your mum must have moved.'

‘Yes, they moved about ten years ago. They live right up in the Highlands now, in a little cottage by the sea.'

Her nan smiled. ‘That's good. Your mum always did want to live by the ocean. How is she?'

Debbie nodded. ‘She's good. Happy. They're hoping to take the campervan around Europe next year.'

‘That's nice to know. A real adventure for them both.' Her nan smiled. ‘And you? You moved with them?'

‘No. I stayed around Edinburgh. I moved in with my boyfriend.'

‘And he's good to you?'

Debbie looked down at her left hand and the space she'd once worn an engagement ring. ‘We split up earlier this year. He had the opportunity to transfer to the States with his job and he chose that over me. We tried the whole long-distance thing, but once he was out there, he pretty much ended it straight away. I guess he had other options, other things to focus on.'

‘Good riddance, then. He doesn't deserve you.'

Debbie smiled slightly. ‘He was a good man, and I didn't see it coming. At all. I mean, he'd spoken about wanting to move abroad, but he hadn't told me he'd applied for a transfer until he had a letter confirming it. He didn't even ask me if I wanted to go.'

‘Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry.'

‘No, it's okay. It showed me what type of person he was. You know, if he could keep something such as a life-changing decision from me, then what else had he been hiding all those years? What else would he hide? Besides, he'd clearly wanted to end it. He made his choice.'

Her nan nodded. ‘You're settled with a good job, though?'

Debbie folded the floral handkerchief into a small rectangle on her lap. ‘I'm in between jobs. We worked at the same company and when my ex got the transfer, I just couldn't face going back in knowing that all the management must have been aware that he'd put in for a transfer before I knew, that they'd basically known my relationship was over before me and they hadn't said anything. I've been temping. I moved in with a friend and I've been temping until now.'

‘Oh dear, it sounds as though you've had a bit of a rough time.' Florrie held her hands, palms up, in the middle of the table. ‘Well, you've come to the right place.'

Placing her hands in her nan's again, Debbie nodded.

‘Once you've finished volunteering at Elsie's, you can always move into the spare bedroom and take all the time you need until you decide what your next step will be.'

Debbie bit down on her bottom lip before catching her nan's eye. ‘I can't move in here. I've been the worst grandchild ever. I can't do that.'

‘My sweetheart, you have not. You don't have it in you. You've always been my Debbie, the apple of your father's eye. I'm as much to blame for the years we've spent apart as you are. More so as I'm the grandparent.'

‘No, I...'

Florrie smiled. ‘Let's not argue. Let's accept where we are and move forward, shall we?'

‘Yes, I'd like that.' Pulling her hands away, Debbie dried her eyes again and let out a shuddering breath. She'd been so worried about this meeting, about coming back to her nan's cottage again, but looking around the kitchen, she only felt love and the warmth of family. Memories of baking and painting and her nan teaching her to sew came flooding back to her. A framed photograph of her dad next to the calendar on the wall caught her attention. ‘I miss him.'

Twisting in her chair to look at the photo, her nan turned back to her again, a smile on her face. ‘I do too, sweetheart. I'll always miss my boy and still struggle to wrap my head around what happened, but I'm thankful for every moment that I got to spend with him. Every smile of his which I have stored inside me.' She tapped the side of her head. ‘And now, you're here sitting opposite me, I feel as though I have a little piece of him back.'

‘Oh, Nan.' Standing up, Debbie walked around the table and held her arms open, waiting until her nan had stood up before embracing her. ‘I love you, Nan.'

‘I love you too, sweetheart, more than you could ever imagine.'