Live a Little Longer, Grandad
A vast, empty London flat with tall, soaring ceilings, heavy velvet curtains draped up onto the sills, exposed radiators, and snaking pipes smelled faintly of dust and time.
Hed collected the keys from the neighbours. Wandering room to room, he peered into the enormous, neglected bathroom, was stunned by its size and its state, then strode into the cavernous lounge, swung open the balcony doors, and sank into a generous old armchair.
Yes! The place was magnificent. Even better than hed imagined. How many rooms were there? Yet it was so rundown, it seemed almost uninhabitable.
He sat a while, then drifted to the window and gazed into the communal garden. He hesitated. He knew that, in London, parking was a nightmare. Maybe hed taken someones claimed spot. But for now, his battered Ford sat unchallenged, plenty of open spaces all round. Hed need to go down for his bag.
Herehed have to live for over a month. On holiday. And not alone.
The idea of sprucing up the place in a day or two wilted the moment he took in the scale of decrepitude. Tall grey arched windows, pots with the ghosts of dried plants, heavy curtains suffocating under dust, an orange-rust bathtub and snaking pipes.
The ceiling wore delicate old plasterworknow all cracked and flaking. The crystal chandelier, rounded and smoky, was shrouded with a dingy ragsomeones feeble attempt to keep dust off. The worn parquet had warped here and there. An ancient oven, round old Hoover with a manual wringer, a bulbous yellowed fridgefilthy, sticky, forgotten. Dust and sand blurred all the corners.
He poked into a grim study with a hulking dark desk and bookcases stretching to the ceiling. It was gloomyalmost pitch-black furniture. He tugged aside inky blue velvet curtains. On the desk: a carved stone pen-holder, malachite pens, a forgotten calendar. He checked the date12th of January, 1995.
Time had stopped here
No comfort in the bedroom either. Clothes had toppled from a busted wardrobe shelf; the curtains heaped on the sill; bare corroded radiators. Opening a drawer in the dresser, he uncovered a filigree jewellery box, curious, he lifted the lidand stepped back in shock.
Blow me! escaped his lips.
Inside, the box glittered with golden rings, thick bands, bracelets, chains, broochesso much gold! Big, heavy rings, amber earrings and others he did not recognise… His first thought: just pocket a fewwhod miss a ring or two?
But the thought slipped away as quickly as it arrived. If the neighbours hadnt touched it What if there was an inventory, a camera? He glanced around. No chancea camera here, in a flat barely wired for light?
He put the box away, shut the drawer, flicked the switchno lights. In the hall, he found the electrical panelnow the power whirred on.
Well, that’s something. He plugged in his mobile, went down for his bag, and after a while, fell into the masters creaking old bed and sank into dead sleep. Hed been driving for nearly twenty-four hours.
***
Hello, is that Daniel George Cartwright? The voice was unsteady, old.
Yes. Whos speaking?
Oh, Daniel, Im so glad I got through! My names Edith Margaret Clarke. Im one of the caregivers here, my granddaughter helped me find your number, otherwise She trailed off. Anyway, your grandfatherGeorge Cartwrighthes here with us. May I call you Danny? Forgive me, Im an old woman.
Please, go ahead.
Danny, youre his only grandchild, you know. He barely says a word, not well at all, but hes waiting for you. Really waiting Perhaps
Sorry, your name was?
Edith Margaret.
Thank you for caring, but I don’t really know him at all. I assume hes my dads father? But my parents divorced when I was four
I know, love, I know Your fathers been gone a long time. Your mum passed recently too, God rest her soul. Shed visit us sometimes.
What? Mum? That cant be right. You must be mistaken
No, no, just She passed suddenly, maybe didnt get to tell you. Or maybe she didnt want to. I dont know, but yes, Julia did come. Lovely woman, very caring. A shame, truly
Sorry, youre sayingmy mum?
Yes, yes, she visited. Danny
Im sorry, do you want me to come? I really cant. I live far away, work and
Yes, yes, I understand. But The thing is, George Cartwright has a property in central London. A large flat, I think. Well, a certain schemers been pestering him to sign it over to our care home, someone high-uphes awfully insistent, and I dont trust him. I worry
Well, let them! The old mans a stranger to me. Its his business
She chattered on as if she hadnt heard.
But Georgehe can hardly speak, but the laws the law. Still, theyll find a way. Hed love to leave it to his grandsonbut he thinks you dont care. Yet if you did, the flatd be yours. I dont blame him. If you dont step in, though, itll be lost. He dreams of living in the flat again, just one last time. He can barely walk, you see. But I thought maybe, just maybe I could find youand so I did, she rambled.
All right, Ill think about it. Is this your number?
Yes, yes
Ill ring back.
It sounded like something from a film: A sudden inheritance! Daniel didnt believe it for a moment. No intention of calling back.
Hed heard plenty from his motherold George was a hard man. When his father died, his parents had long since split. Even then, his mum said: Old George pushed your father to the grave.
Daniel didn’t believe his mum ever actually visited grandad. Well, maybe if property was involved. Did she hope some might come to him, maybe?
To London, you should go, Danny he recalled her wistful wishes.
Actually, yes. His mum would have put up with anythingfor his sake. Shed loved him fiercely.
A London flat! Well, well
Mum once told him Grandad had been a big shot in the Party, that the flat was huge and right in the centre. When Dad first brought her round to meet the family, she got lost in all the rooms. No more details; the unhappy marriage ended with her leaving for Surrey. Thats where Daniel had grown up. He never gave his dad a thought, let alone any grandparents on that side of the tree.
He had grandparentsMum’s. The best! Thanks to them, hed managed a flat in Guildford, albeit a mistake in putting his wifes name on the deeds. Their life tumbled upside down, a decade of misery and a parting of ways. His daughter lived with her grandmother, his ex-wife wanted little to do with the child.
They split the flat through court. Daniel bought himself a tiny bungalowa thirteen-foot room and a little kitchen-foyer. At the time, he didnt careany port in a storm. But once he realised living there was impossible, hed started counting every penny, saving toward something habitable. Child support, bills, food, petrol…
His ex would ring, always asking for more for their daughter. Those payments barely cover anything, shed complain. He got on all right with his daughter, would have her for school holidays, spoil her a little.
Oh Dad, youll never save for a proper flat at this rate. Too many treats!
Well, youre right, love
A flat in London He thought over and over.
After another couple of hours measuring tiles on a side job, Daniel finally phoned back.
Edith Margaret, its Daniel. So what exactly does Grandad want? Could you explain again?
Edith was delighted, unsurprised. She told him George was ill, longed to see out his days at home, or at least visit. He wanted to see Daniel, she was sure, even if hed never say so aloud.
***
It was simple self-interest that brought Daniel to London. He didnt pretend otherwise.
In the flat, in faded photos on the walls, he saw his grandfather and grandmother for the first time. The manpompous, portly, unkind even in the photo. The grandmother, on the other hand, had a look of sweetness, something that reminded him of his own daughter, Ellie.
And that unknown old man? Daniel would fetch him from the care home tomorrow, bring him back here, to this cluttered ruin.
He wandered into the kitchen and flicked the gas tap. The gas flowed, but a rotten odour filled the air. Best call the gas company outthis place had been locked up for years. But how long? Since 95? Hed forgotten to ask Edith how long Grandad had been away.
A gentle knock at the door. His neighbour, the older lady whod given him the keys.
I thoughtwell, nothing works here. Would you like a cup of tea?
They sat cosily in her warm kitchen.
It wasnt me who collected the keys from your grandfather, it was my mother-in-law. Shes gone now, as is my husband… I live here with my daughters family.
How longs he been in the home?
Oh, not sure. At least fifteen years. Weve been here twelve. My mother-in-law used to water the plants, tidy up. We let things be. The owner wasnt coming back. Decided they’d sell– I’m unwell, my daughtershe’s busy with work and the children. Homes enough to manage.
So you never knew him, my grandad?
No, only what I heard from my mother-in-law. She respected him, butI think she was afraid. They’re all from another time He worked for the Ministry, you see, and were just ordinary folks. The flat was originally her fathers. He was a sea captain. Family storiesoh, but I forget them now.
By the way, do you have the gas companys number? I should have them check the pipes
Yes, Ill find it she said, then paused in the doorway. Are you really bringing him home? How old is he now?
I dont know. Only just learned of him myself. Thought hed passed long ago. I will bring him, yes. But just for a month or so, while Im off work.
Doubt flickered in her eyes:
Old folks, they can be difficult. If onlyhes still got his marbles
***
The gas man failed to show that day, called to say he was out for emergencies. Daniel decided to stroll, found a café, bought cleaning supplies and some basic groceries.
Tomorrow he’d visit the care home to fetch Grandad; he’d rung Edith already. She flustered, telling him not to buy a thing, they’d pack all hed need.
Daniel didnt really followhed intended to collect Grandad with his belongings, and that would be that. What more could an old man possibly require? As for foodhed work it out.
Early morning, Daniel set off for a care home just outside London. Maybe Grandad wouldnt come, but at least theyd meet.
Self-interest still gnawed at him. Maybe a single meeting would kindle some familial feeling in the old man. Old people were sentimental, werent they? Hed look at Daniel and leave the flat to him. Although, if Edith was right about schemers, theyd probably cheat him out of it. Still, perhaps if the grandson showed up, hope would return.
Still, Daniel quite hoped this trip wouldnt be in vain. A flat like thathe could only dream. He felt nothing for this stranger claimed as his grandfather. But if it came to nothing, at least hed stroll London, take in the Tate, stop at the tech shops, maybe a hardware store, then return home. Waste of moneysad, but Miracles dont happen to people like him, no point hoping too much.
The care home was small, tucked within a long two-storey brick building. The grounds were neat, a little security hut, rose beds, benches. Daniel actually found the place pleasant.
More pleasant stillthey truly were expecting him. He was greeted at the door by a wiry old woman with grey curlsEdith Margaret herself.
Hello, Daniel George. Im terribly nervous. Now, best not mention me to the directorjust say your grandad rang you himself. He can hardly speak but just say he asked to be taken home.
Edith, did he really ask? Daniel felt something wasnt right.
Of course. But later, latergo on now, theyre waiting for you. Have your birth certificate?
The manager summoned the nurse. They discussed George Cartwrights declining health at lengthhed be hard work, both in body and mind. Daniel only thought of the flathe was convinced they wanted it for themselves.
No, no. Ill take him. Well manage, he replied, sounding brisk and resolute.
Well, your call, said the head nurse with a sigh, as though offering condolences. Well have the paperwork ready in an hourgo and see him in the meantime.
Daniel nodded, pretending he already knew where to go. Edith crossed herself and told him to wait in the corridor.
He examined the noticeboards, the plants, when suddenlya little old man in a wheelchair hurtled towards him, speeding down the hall like a bat out of hell. Daniel actually stepped back, half convinced someone with a remote control was steering the thing at reckless speed. But the chair swerved, stopped, then zipped right up to him.
The resident sprinter, Daniel thought. Do they have types like that here, too?
The old man gripped the joystick in his right hand. The chair seemed too large for him. He was hunched over to the right; dressed in an old black tracksuit, woollen socks, a flat cap. His face looked like a baked applecrusted cheeks, grey stubble, ruddy nose, hooded eyes.
Daniel glanced around. A young woman wrestled along with big tote bags.
Mr Cartwright, I told you to wait! she snapped, sharply strapping him in and tucking a blanket over his knees.
He sat slightly straighter, still ignoring her, and stared at Daniel.
Then Daniel understoodthis shrivelled old man was his grandad. But the photo in the flatthere he was portly, stately, almost distinguished, the sort of old fellow Daniel had braced himself to meet. Thisthis was not what he expected. He stared at his grandfathers aged, mottled handsthey looked more like carved wood than living flesh.
Hello, Daniel nodded.
Grandad fixed him with that same unblinking stare.
Ediths gathering his last things. Theres plenty of pads too, but he refuses to wear them. Weve tried everything, the nurse spoke as if George wasnt present. Please dont let him dash about. While hes still under our care, youre responsible. Go for a strollyoull be waiting anyway.
She left, and Daniel lost his nerve. His grandad, head bowed, still gazed at the spot where Daniel had just stood. Daniel gently took the handles of the wheelchair, spun it round, and rolled towards the exit.
He wasnt sure Grandad could hear or understand him, so he walked in silence. After a hundred metres, he parked him facing a bench and sat down in front.
Well, Grandad. Im here. Edith found me, Daniel said to the old man, whose gaze rested blankly on the wheelchair arm. But Daniel felt, somehow, that he was listening. Grandad, do you really want to leave this place? Its nice here, really Do you want to go?
No reaction.
Can you hear me at all? Eh? He asked, louder, but still nothing. Daniel bowed his head. Deaf, is it. Well, isn’t that?
Grandads eyes stayed down, but the corner of his mouth twitched, just barely, like a subdued chuckle.
Aha Daniel raised his eyebrows. A thought crossed his mind. He stood, moved out of sight behind Grandad, and called out, Reverse!
Instantly, the wheelchair jolted backward, nearly bowling Daniel over. He hopped aside.
Stop! The chair froze. Head over to the swings, he pointed past the building.
But Grandad hesitatedthen the chair spun and shot off at speed, down the path in the opposite direction. Daniel scrambled over a flowerbed, seized the handles.
Hold up! Whoa, youre a wild one, Daniel gasped. Boredom with this old man was out of the question.
He spun the chair in a circle, lost in thought. Only now did it really hit himwhat a burden he was shouldering. Only now did the doctors warning sink in. What did he even know about caring for difficult old menhalf-mad, half-broken? Nothing And soon theyd thrust papers at him, ask him to sign for everything.
Should he just walk back, apologise, admit he was mistaken, that hed overestimated what was possible, say Grandad was too ill, and drive home in peace? At that moment, it sounded wonderful.
But that flat It would slip away. No, hed grit his teeth. Edith had said Grandad just wanted to be home in the flat, to live there, even for a little while. He could put up with a monthfor a place like that. Unlessmaybe he was too late. Was there a will? Where were the deeds? With whom?
The nurse came and took over, stopping with Grandad.
You taking all his documents? Hes not with you for good, is he?
Ill take them all.
He signed for every official paper. Passportsign here, health cardsign here, NHS bookletsign here, savings book, title deed, another certificate, and another…
What are these?
George Cartwrights property papers. Theres his garage, the house, the London flat. Heres the foldersign for every page. Each one must be returned safe and sound. Its all legal. And be awarehes been legally incapacitated for five yearsso, you know, he cant do anything binding. Social Services will send someone to inspect your care. We must notify them
There was no will among the papers. Four bags in totalthe wheelchair only just fit in the boot; Grandad himself, limp as a doll, was easily settled into the passenger seat with the help of an orderly.
Dont force the pads on him, darlinghell fight you, advised Edith, hands fluttering. He hates porridge; use a blender for his foodno meat really. Doctors written up the diet. He can get on the loo himselfwell, sometimes. But help too much and hell get cross. Hes got medication for the nightssedatives. Id have to pin him downoh, hed get so mad and box my ears, but Id run off. She wiped her eyes.
Is there anything he doesnt get cross about? Daniel, exhausted, was losing patience with the fussing.
I feel for him, I do. Hes a good man, just irritable. Only I seemed to get along with him Who knows if were doing the right thing? Phone any time, day or night Call, please. Hes become like family.
The gates closed; Edith stood sobbing behind them; Daniel exhaled.
That greedy question ticked through his mind: what had the manager meant about Grandads incapacity? Daniel knew nothing about legal matters. Hed have to get advice. The flatthat was all that mattered.
And the old man himself some broken relic, and for what? What did he want with any of this?
He glanced at Grandad, slumped against the window, gazing forward. The silvery road streamed through the woods.
Never mind. Maybe itll be easier without any helpersjust us. Daniel pressed on the accelerator. The car, and all their odd cargo, rolled onwards into the dream.
