Loose Connections (3 page)

He gave up on the homework and phoned Tom. Tom was still going on about the footie course.

‘What’s the problem? Your gran’ll let you go, won’t she?’

‘It’s not that.’

‘What
is
it, then?’

Jake didn’t answer.

‘Come on, Jake. I’m your best mate, for God’s sake.’

Jake still didn’t answer.

‘Jake – what’s
wrong
?’

Jake sighed. ‘I think Gran’s losing it.’

There, he’d said it.

‘But she’s always been scatty,’ said Tom. ‘That’s what’s great about her. And her sandwiches are just hysterical.’

‘It’s more than that. . .’

How can I explain?

‘It’s getting really bad, Tom. These last two weeks . . . she forgets things all the time and she’s doing stuff. . .’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Dangerous stuff. Leaving things burning on the cooker, leaving water running, things like that.’

‘That’s a bit heavy. Why don’t you tell your dad?’

‘I don’t want to worry him; if he comes home early from the training, they might not give him the job.’

‘Wouldn’t he want to know?’

Don’t YOU start!

‘I can manage,’ he said, and his voice was tight. ‘Look there’s only another week of school then I can be here all the time – keep an eye on her. . .’

‘What about your neighbour. Couldn’t she help?’

For God’s sake, Tom!

‘No way! Gran screams at her whenever she comes round. She’d murder her if she had the chance.’

No reply.

‘Look, I’m sorry, mate. I really want to do the course with you. . .’

‘OK.’

He switched off his phone. For a few moments he sat at his computer staring at the screensaver. He’d been looking forward to the footie course all year.

He got up and tiptoed along to Gran’s room. He opened the door quietly and crept over to her bed. She was snoring gently.

Yep! The electric blanket was on high. Jake turned it off. Then he went downstairs and pulled most of the plugs out of their sockets. The TV. The cooker. The electric kettle. The microwave. The
dishwasher. The washing machine. Sometimes Gran woke up in the night and started wandering around, turning things on.

Ever since she’d had her ‘turn’ he’d had to check up on her. He could never really relax.

It was a long time before he finally drifted off to sleep and then he had horrible dreams. Dreams of Gran crashing the car, setting the house on fire, crossing the road in front of a lorry. .
.

He woke up, his heart thumping.

It was only a dream, for God’s sake!

When he went back to sleep he dreamt about her again, but this time she was the old Gran, the Gran he loved. Funny, irreverent, up for anything, full of surprises, running up and down the pitch
at matches, shouting encouragement, bringing him outrageous presents. Telling Irene where to get off.

Just before he woke, he had the feeling, again, that there was someone beside him. But as he became conscious and looked round the room, nothing had changed. All his clothes lay in an untidy
heap on the floor, and no one else was there. It was early and he lay in bed for a while remembering the good times with Gran. The house was quiet. She must still be asleep.

If she’d slept well, she’d not be too bad. She was always better in the morning.

Jake got up, went downstairs and made himself some breakfast. Then he took Gran up a mug of tea.

She was just stirring when he went in. She sat up, put on her glasses and took the tea from him.

‘Lovely, Jakey. Thank you.’

‘Gran, today we’ve got. . .’

‘I know, darling. We’ve got to get to the supermarket, and then we’re off to the hospital this afternoon to see Mum.’

‘You remembered!’

She gave a slight frown. ‘Of course I remembered!’

A tiny spark of hope.
P’raps she’s getting better. P’raps it’ll be OK now.

Later they sat down and made a long shopping list.

***

The trip to the supermarket went really well. Gran was wearing odd socks and the same stained jersey as yesterday, but she seemed at ease driving the car and she only forgot the
way once. Her parking was a bit bizarre, but she remembered to turn off the ignition and put on the handbrake.

They walked up and down the aisles checking their list and lobbing things into the trolley. Occasionally Gran would reach for something they didn’t need.

‘No, Gran. Not that.’ Jake caught the items before they made it into the trolley. He replaced a pack of nappies, a 2-for-1 pack of deodorant, a fistful of soaps, a huge carton of a
washing powder Mum never used, some barbeque fuel and four jumbo rolls of cling film.

And he slipped a few things into the trolley that weren’t on the list: five pies, five bars of chocolate and five cans of Coke (sorry, Mum); this week he was going to do his own
lunches.

When their shopping had gone through the checkout, Gran opened her handbag and stood peering into it, frowning. Jake waited for a bit while the checkout lady drummed her fingers on the counter,
then he rummaged inside the handbag, found Gran’s card, popped it in the machine and quickly keyed in her PIN. The lady at the checkout looked a bit surprised, but it all went through OK so
she didn’t say anything.

Gran’s driving was more erratic on the way home.

‘Gran! GRAN, STOP! The light’s gone red!’

‘Sorry, Jakey. It’s the sun in my eyes.’

It was a cloudy day. Not a ray of sun to be seen.

When they got back to the house, Jake made a game of putting the shopping away.

‘And the toilet paper goes in. . .?’

‘The bathroom!’ yelled Gran, grabbing the rolls and running to the bathroom.

Quickly, Jake put a few more items away before she came back.

‘And the washing powder goes in. . .’ He saw her hesitate.

‘The laundry!’ he finished.

She smiled. ‘The laundry!’ she shouted, grabbing it from him and trotting off.

Like this, they got everything sorted – or most things. He’d seen when she’d got it wrong; he could put things back where they belonged later.

‘All finished,’ he said at last.

Gran clapped her hands. ‘Let’s have a cuppa!’ She wandered over to the electric kettle and switched it on.

‘You need to put some water in it, Gran,’ said Jake automatically.

She unplugged the kettle and took off the lid. ‘Rubbish. There’s plenty of water in it.’ Sometimes she surprised him.

‘Sorry, Gran. Thought it was empty.’

She turned and smiled at him. ‘I may be scatty, darling, but I can still make a cup of tea.’

Jake felt a lump in his throat as he watched her pour the boiling water into the teapot. As she turned to find the milk in the fridge (plenty of that – it would be sour long before they
drank their way through it) he quickly popped a couple of teabags into the pot while her back was turned.

She straightened up triumphantly, holding a carton. ‘Found the milk,’ she said.

Couldn’t miss it.

Later they made lunch together – soup and sandwiches.

Jake thought about Irene’s offer of a chicken casserole and wondered whether she’d come round. Perhaps not. Perhaps she was still mad at him for saying that about Kenny.

Jake finished his lunch. He was dreading the trip to the hospital, but they’d have to go.

‘Why don’t we take the bus, Gran? Save you driving.’

Gran scraped back her chair. ‘Don’t be daft; it takes a lifetime on that bus. Now I’ll just go upstairs and change. Can’t go visiting your mum in this old jersey can
I?’

He wondered if she had any clean clothes left. She hadn’t used the washing machine for ages. He’d offered to do her stuff but she’d been cross. ‘I’m not having you
wash my smalls!’

A few minutes later, she came downstairs looking a million dollars. She’d brushed her hair, put on some make-up and was wearing a clean jacket and shirt. She was still wearing odd socks,
but Mum probably wouldn’t notice.

As they left the house, the sun broke through the clouds. Gran stretched. ‘Nearly the holidays, Jakey.’ He didn’t think she’d remember that school broke up at the end of
next week.

As Gran backed the car out of the garage, Jake gripped his seat. She was going out much too fast. He couldn’t help himself. ‘Watch it Gran. Slow down!’

She took no notice, but she did stop when they reached the road, and as she swung the wheel round to straighten up, Jake saw the girl from yesterday sitting on their front wall again.

Damn cheek. What’s she doing there?

Gran saw her too. She put her foot on the brake and Jake lurched forward in his seat.

‘Who’s that?’ she said, shading her eyes and staring at the girl.

‘No one,’ muttered Jake.

‘She seems to know you. Look, she’s waving.’

Jake scowled and shrank down into his seat.

‘Just some girl who’s moved into that big old empty house near the park,’ he said.

‘She looks nice. What’s her name?’

Jake shrugged. ‘Haven’t got a clue. Look Gran,’ he went on crossly, ‘let’s get going, shall we? We want to get to the hospital before midnight.’

‘All right, love. No need to bite my head off.’

Gran put the car in gear and they shot forward. Jake clutched the edge of his seat and tried to keep calm but as they sped up Church Street he screamed, ‘Watch that man,
Gran!’

Gran hadn’t seen the man. She slammed on the brakes and slithered to a halt, just missing him. He sprang back and shook his fist at her.

‘You shouldn’t be driving, you stupid old woman,’ he shouted.

Gran said nothing, but Jake could sense her fury. She continued to drive fast, muttering to herself. At the main road she swung the wheel round to go left.

‘
Right,
Gran. You turn right here.’

She didn’t reply, but yanked the wheel the other way and sailed out into the traffic without looking. There was a screech of brakes and the blast of a horn. Jake put his hands over his
ears. He didn’t dare look back.

She’s going to kill someone if she goes on like this.

She jumped the next set of traffic lights and missed the turning.

‘You’ll have to turn round, Gran. You missed the turning.’

She looked across at him, taking her eyes off the road. ‘Eh?’

‘GRAN!’

She looked back at the road and slammed on the brakes again; she missed the car in front by a centimetre.

‘PLEASE, Gran! Please be careful.’

She was frowning. ‘Which way?’ she said.

‘You need to turn round.’

Immediately she started to turn.

‘Not now Gran! Wait until there’s a. . .’

Too late. She was already doing a U-turn into a stream of traffic. Jake closed his eyes and tensed up for the inevitable collision. But, although there were more horns and screeching brakes, she
made it, and Jake slowly opened his eyes again.

‘For God’s sake Gran!’

She seemed really jumpy, so Jake tried to keep quiet after that. For the rest of the journey she drove more slowly, peering anxiously out through the windscreen.

By the time they’d reached the hospital, Jake had made up his mind. He’d have to let her drive home but after that, he’d hide the keys. He couldn’t risk it. She
mustn’t drive the car again – ever. Somehow they’d just have to manage without it.

When they finally drew up in the hospital car park Jake relaxed his taut muscles and unclenched his fists. He turned to her.

‘Gran, you shouldn’t be driving,’ he said quietly.

She switched off the engine and looked straight at him.

‘You’re turning into a right old woman, Jake,’ she said crossly.

Jake flushed with anger. ‘And you’re turning into a bloody boy racer!’ he yelled at her.

Gran didn’t seem that shocked. She just looked straight ahead. Then she started to laugh and, after a moment, Jake joined in.

They got out of the car still shaking with laughter.

What do I do with her? Part of her is still there; part of her is still my feisty, funny old Gran.

They walked slowly towards the hospital entrance. Gran reached for Jake’s hand and held it tight. ‘I hate hospitals,’ she said fiercely.

‘Because of Grandad?’ asked Jake. Jake’s grandad had died in hospital after a long illness.

She looked at him and frowned, her face all vague again. ‘Who?’

Jake stared at her. This was getting really bad. He knew he had to tell
someone.
But not Mum. What had Dad said just before he left for America?

“Try not to worry Mum about anything Jake. The medics say she mustn’t have any stress, so if you or Gran have any problems, tell me – don ‘t bother Mum.”

‘OK, but we’ll be fine. There won’t be any problems.’ He’d said it so confidently.

But if I tell Dad, he’s sure to come home early. I can’t ask him to leave the training course halfway through.

***

They took the lift to the fourth floor. There were lots of people and it was a tight fit. Some were clutching bunches of flowers, some were loaded down with bags. Some talked
and laughed with one another and others stood silently, eyes cast down. Jake had bought some magazines and chocolates for Mum from the supermarket and stuffed them into a big plastic bag full of
her clean clothes. Last week Mum had given the clothes to Gran to wash, but she’d forgotten, so Jake had put them through the machine. He’d hated doing it – felt embarrassed
handling his mum’s things – but he knew she’d ask questions if her clothes weren’t washed.

As they came into the ward, Jake gave the plastic bag to Gran.

‘What’s this?’

‘Mum’s clothes,’ he muttered. ‘The ones she gave us to wash.’

Gran frowned. ‘Did we wash them?’

Jake nodded. ‘Yep. They’ll all done.’

Gran’s face relaxed.

Mum was sitting in a chair beside her bed, busy working on her laptop on a table in front of her.

She’s keeping the family afloat. Will she stop working so hard once Dad starts the new job?

Her head was bent and she didn’t hear them approach, so Jake was able to watch her for a few seconds before she saw them. She looked really well. Her long dark hair was glossy and her face
had more colour in it now.