Granny never cared much for young Walternever truly accepted him.
“Hes not one of ours, not really,” old Annie would mutter to the women at the village shop.
“Come now, Annie,” one would say. “Look at himspitting image of your Eddie when he was little!”
“I know, I know, in my head I see it,” Annie would sigh. “But my heart wont believe it. My daughters children? Aye, theyre my own. But my sons boy? Cant bring myself to love him. Oh, he runs about, chatters away, calls me Gran… but no. One look at him, and all I see is his mothers lot. Not my blood, not truly.”
“Its like that sometimes,” another woman would nod. “My late mum doted on my Lilykissed her, fussed over her, gave her the world. But my brothers boys? Hardly glanced their way. My brother took offence once, spoke his mind. And dyou know what she said? Forgive me, son, but a daughters childrenwell, you know theyre yours. A sons? Cant ever be sure.”
“Same here,” another would chime in.
“Oh, dont I know it!” a third would laugh. “My daughters boy? Lovely ladeyes like stars, dimples and all. My husband and I cant get enough of him. But my sons wifes child? Just cant warm to him. Looks too much like her lot, always sniffling and grubby. I tell her to keep him clean, and she snaps back shes too busyher husband wants the house spotless and his dinner hot. Whens she meant to mind the boy?”
Annie would shake her head. “Others manage, dont they? Used to be, wed rise at four for milking. Id knead the dough, leave it to rise, stoke the oventhen off to work. One morning, I left young Betty to tend the bread, told my husband to keep an eye. He was frail then. Well, my heart fair warned meI ran back home. And there she was, my poor lamb, fast asleep, dough spilling off the table, hair stuck to her cheek Oh! Father! I scolded. What? says he. You were meant to watch the bread! Watch it? Its not going anywhere. Off he shuffled in his nightshirt, muttering. Fool of a man…”
And so the talk would turn, as it always did.
Annie walked home quietly that day, comforted in knowing she wasnt the only woman who couldnt love a sons child.
Yet Walterwell, he adored his gran. He thought, somehow, it brought him closer to his dad. His father had gone north years ago, when Walter was small, to work the new docks. Never came back. But Walter waited, wrote him letters, brought them to Granny Annie.
His mam said the old hag was the only one who knew where his good-for-nothing father had got to. But Walter knew his mam loved him reallyshe was just sore he hadnt taken her north with him. How could he, though? Where would Walter have gone? She ought to understand.
Sometimes shed scream that he and his father had ruined her life. Said she shouldve married Johnny Spireshad a pack of his bairns, lived like a queen.
Once, Walter tried rolling cheese in butter in the toy lorry Granny Annie had given him for his birthdayoh, how his mam had screeched! Wanted to toss it out. But Walter clung to it. Felt like his dad had sent it. Likely hadthat lorry wasnt cheap. His dad mustve sent money for it. But his mam had ranted: “Chuck it! Chuck it!”
Walter never understood why she wanted that other life so badly.
One day, he thought, his dad would come home, and theyd be happier than any Spires lot. His mam would stop regretting.
He went to see Granny Annie, but his cousin Gladys was therespoilt little thing, but she was just a bairn, two years younger.
“Gran gave me a dolly,” she teased, sticking out her tongue. Walter didnt care for dolls.
“And now shes making me pancakes with cream!”
“For everyone,” Granny muttered through her teeth. She did love Walter, deep downput that little madam in her place.
Walter stayed awhile for politeness, had tea and pancakes. Asked if she needed help with anything. Then left.
“Ugh, finally gone,” he heard Gladys say as he shut the door. Granny sat silent as stone.
“Hush, you! Too big for your boots!”
Walters heart warmed. She did love him.
Granny scolded Gladys: “What nonsense are you spouting? Hes not even out the door! Whole villagell hear your clatterIll tan your hide!”
“You wouldnt!”
“Why not?”
“Cos you love me! Im your favourite, your clever, pretty girl!” Gladys climbed into her lap.
“Oh, you little rascal, my sweetheart…”
***
Walter never saw his father again. The man stayed up north. His mam married Uncle Colin SpiresJohnnys cousin. Decent bloke. Never mistreated Walter, though he loved his own two bairns more. But he was fair. And Granny Tassie, Colins mum, doted on Walter too.
Life was good. He still visited Granny Annie. But he stopped writing letters.
Before he joined the army, Walter learned his father had another family up north. Never visited, but Granny Annie went there often.
It stung. He asked her why shed never told him. Hed waited, written…
She waved him off. “Childish nonsense. Your letters are in the drawer. And your father sent good moneyyour mam raised another mans bairns on it.”
Walter got drunk that nightfirst and last time. Raged at his mam, his gran, his father.
His mam screamed, called him a drunk, a waste. But Uncle Colin pulled him into the shed. There, Walter wepthed never cried, not even as a boy. But now it all poured out: how the lads at school mocked him, called him a bastard, said his mam had dragged him home in her apron.
Thats why Walter learned to fight. And why hed kept visiting Granny Annieto prove he had a family like anyone else. Hed known they didnt want him. But hed gone anyway.
Uncle Colin wiped his own tears. “Listen here, lad. Youre like a son to me. More than likeyou are my son, my eldest. Ive been with your mam ten years now. So…”
They sat forehead to forehead, gripping each others necks, weeping.
“Son.”
“Dad.”
“My boy.”
Granny Annie blessed him when he left for the army, wished him an easy service. Gladys sneered: “Thank heavensno more paying for someone elses brat.” Granny said nothing.
***
The army years flew. Walter came back a manhis mam and “Dad” Colin proud as punch. Since that night in the shed, hed called Colin “Dad,” and Colin called him “son.” No one batted an eye.
Granny Tassie boasted of her eldest grandson”handy as anything.” Hed barely returned before mending her fence…
Gladys, now living with Granny Annie, told Walter to stay away.
“Your dads got his own family now. Whos to say youre even his? Paying all those years for another mans child…”
Granny stayed silent. Walter never went back.
He married, worked hard. His parents helped him buy a house in townmoved there themselves with Granny Tassie. Bought a car, had two children. Life was good.
Then his back gave out. His dad had warned him”Youre not as strong as you think, lad.” Now here he was, shuffling down the hospital corridor like an old man, when he heard raised voices.
A woman near shrieked: “Not my problem! Youre the doctorsfix her!”
“Miss, with proper care at home, your grandmother could recover”
“Oh, sure! Im not wiping her backside. You deal with it!”
“We cant keep her. If you refuse, shell go to the nursing home”
“Shame on you, Gladys!” another voice cut in. “After all she did for you”
“Send her away,” came Gladyss icy reply. “Ill sign the papers.”
Walter stepped in. “No need. Ill take her.”
“And you are?”
“Her grandson.”
“Proof?”
Walter smirked. “Oh, aye.”
Gladys sneered. “Oh, look whos turned up! Smelled the inheritance, have you? Too lateshe left me the house and everything.” She stormed out.
Walter took Granny home. His mam shook her head, remembering how hed once believed Granny Annie loved himwhen all along shed told the village she couldnt stand the sight of him.
But Granny thrived. Walked again. Begged his forgiveness. Helped raise his children, loved them dearly.
When her time came, Gladys didnt even visit. Her mother and Walters dad sent moneywhich Gladys kept, of course. But no matter.
“So much for the unloved grandson,” the village whispered. Theyd heard how Granny Annie spent her last days with Walter.
The women whod picked favourites paused. What if it ended like this for them too?
“Extra sweets, Kate,” one said suddenly. “For my grandchildren…”
***
Thats how it goes. Shed given all her love to the granddaughter from her daughter. To her sons boy? Nothing. Wouldnt even call him family, though she saw her own son in his face.
Yet in the end, it was the unloved grandson who took her in.
And it was he who walked her home.
