Granny Always Favoured One
“And what about me, Gran?” she used to whisper quietly.
“You, Catherine, youre a sturdy one. Just look at those rosy cheeks youve had your fill.”
“Nuts are for sharpening the mind, and Henry has his schoolinghes a man, the backbone of the family.”
“As for you, off you go and dust the shelves. Girls ought to get used to chores.”
Cathy, are you serious? Shes slipping away. The doctors say shes got a day or two left. Maybe just a few hours
Henry stood in the kitchen doorway twisting his car keys, looking battered and tense.
“I am serious, Henry. Would you like some tea?” Cathy didnt even turn round, calmly slicing an apple for her daughter. “Take a seat, Ill put the kettle on.”
Tea, Cathy? Now? Shes lying there, all those tubes, struggling to breathe
She was asking after you this morning, Cathy? Wheres Cathy? I thought my heart would stop. Wont you come? You do understand, Cathy? This is our last chance with Nana.
Cathy laid the apple slices neatly on a plate before meeting her brothers gaze.
“To you shes Nana. For her, youre little Henrythe only heir, the golden boy.”
“As for me Well, Ive never really existed for her.”
“You really think I need this grand farewell, that I need to make peace?”
Whats the point in all these old grudges? Henry smacked his keys down on the table. “Yes, she favoured me, not you. So what?”
“Shes an old woman, had her quirks. But shes dying! You dont have to be so hard.”
“Im not hard, Henry. I just feel nothing for her. Go sit with her, hold her hand. Your company means everything to her.”
“Youre her golden boy, her sunshineshine for her till the very end.”
Henry looked at his sister, turned on his heel, and strode out, slamming the door.
Cathy sighed, collected the apple slices, and went into the nursery.
***
Everything in their family had always been divided neatly. Their parents loved them bothCathy and Henryequally.
The house was always bustling, loud with laughter, smelling of roasts and cakes, filled with endless outings and noisy celebrations.
But their grandmother, Edith May, was a different breed entirely.
“Henry, come here, my lovely lad,” Nana would coo when they visited on weekends. “Look what Ive saved for you.”
Shed hand him walnuts, cracked herself, and a tin of toffeesspecial treats.
Cathy, aged seven, would stand nearby watching as Nana fetched Henrys prize from the old oak cupboard.
“And what about me, Gran?” shed ask, voice barely a murmur.
Edith May would spare her only a brisk, prickly glance.
You, Catherine, are sturdy as they come. Just look at your cheeks!
“Nuts are for learning, and Henrys got his schooling to think about; hes the man, the hope of the house.”
“Off you go and do the dusting. A girl must learn to keep busy with chores.”
Henry, red with embarrassment, would edge out to the hallway, leaving Cathy to her cleaning.
She didnt really mind. Odd as it sounds, little Cathy took it all as matter-of-factlike rain on a Sunday, or frost in April.
Granny doted on Henry, and that was just how things were.
Out in the corridor, Henry always waited for her.
“Here,” hed press half the toffees and a handful of nuts into her palm. “Just dont let her see, shell scold us both.”
“You need them more,” Cathy would smile, teasing. “They’re for making you smart, right?”
“Oh, bother the brains,” Henry grimaced. “Shes mad as a March hare. Go on, eat up quickly.”
Theyd perch together on the attic steps, crunching their contraband, giggling. Henry always shared. He always did.
Even when Gran would slip him a few crisp pounds for an ice-cream, hed immediately find Cathy.
“Hey! We can get two vanilla cones, and maybe a pack of stickers as well. Shall we?”
Henry had always been her anchor. His kindness made up for all the coldness from their granny, so much so that Cathy rarely noticed anything missing.
Years passed. Edith May grew older. When Henry turned eighteen, she solemnly announced at a family gathering that hed be inheriting her second, neatly tucked away flat in the town centre.
“The cornerstone of the family should have a roof to call his own,” she declared. “So that you can bring home a wife, not have to shuffle about in corners.”
Mum only sighed. She knew her mothers ways were unchangeable and didnt argue, but later, in the quiet of Cathys room, she spoke softly:
Dont fret, love Your dad and I noticed everything. Weve decidedthe money we were putting by for a car and an extension, well give it to you.
“Itll be your first deposit on a place of your own. Thats only fair.”
Oh, Mum, dont fuss, Cathy hugged her. Henry needs that flat morewith Lydia, theyre all but married! Ill manage in the student digs for a while.
No, Cathy, its not right. Your grans got her whims, but were your parents. We cant let one child go without. Take it, and not a word.
Cathy refused.
Henry moved into the flat as soon as he was married, and their parents three-bed felt emptier.
Cathy took over Henrys old room, lined it with her books and an easel, and for the first time felt how wonderful it is when love isn’t divided into right and wrong.
Inheritance never soured things between brother and sister. If anything, Henry seemed guiltier than ever.
Cath, you must come over, hed say on his visits. “Lydias made apple tart. And Granwell, you know her. She rang yesterday, asking if Id wasted her money on your fancies.”
And what did you say?
I told her Id spent it all on pinball machines and gin, he grinned. She huffed and puffed, then hissed: Cathys led you astray again!
Well, obviously, Cathy smiled. Who else could it be?
***
When Cathy married Oliver and their daughter was born, the question of a home cropped up sharply. Mum was, as ever, the peacemaker.
“Listen, dears,” she said, “Weve this big three-bed, Henrys got his own flat. Cathy and Oliver, youre still renting Lets see. Well split ours for a two-bed and a one-bed. Your dad and Ill take the small one, and you two can have the two-bed.”
“Mum” Henry broke in, “Ill give up my share in our old home. Ive enough from Gran; let Cathy have it all, for her familys sake.”
You sure, Henry? Even Oliver looked stunned. “Thats a lot of money.”
“Im sure. Cathy and I always shared everything growing up. Gran never gave her the time of day. So dont argue. My words final.”
Cathy cried. Not because shed gained more living space, but because her brother was truly the best man she knew.
They sorted the house as agreed, and each kept their share.
Mum often came to help with the granddaughter. Henry, his wife, and their boys visited every Sunday.
Edith May lived on alone. Henry dropped in with the groceries, fixed the leaky taps, listened to endless complaints about her health and that ungrateful Cathy.
“Has she called? Has she even asked after me, after my blood pressure?” Gran pursed her lips.
“Gran, you never wanted to know her,” Henry answered gently. “Not one kind word for twenty years. Why should she call?”
“I only wanted to teach her!” the old woman insisted. “Women should know their place! And look, shes grabbed the flat, forced her mother out of her home!”
Henry simply sighed. There was no point arguing.
***
Cathy would sit in her kitchen, memories resurfacing now and again.
Gran brushing her hand away from the jam jar. Praising Henrys wobbly painting, breezing past Cathys trophy from the school competition.
On Henrys wedding day, Gran was queen of the occasion. When it was Cathys wedding, Gran didnt turn upclaimed she was unwell.
“Mum, why dont we go see Nana Edith?” her little girl poked her head into the kitchen. “Uncle Henry says shes very, very poorly.”
“Because Nana Edith only wants to see Uncle Henry, love,” Cathy stroked her daughters hair. “It gives her peace.”
“Is she mean?” her daughter asked, narrowing her eyes.
“No,” Cathy considered. “She just never learned how to love everyone. Some people only have room for one in their heart. Thats all.”
In the evening, Henry rang again.
“Shes gone, Cath. About an hour ago.”
“Im sorry, Henry. I know it hits you hard.”
“She kept asking after you till the end,” her brother fibbedbut Cathy knew he only lied to be kind, to try to patch things as best he could. “She said: May Cathys life be happy.”
“Thank you, Henry… Come round tomorrow. Well remember her, Ill bake a tart.”
“I will Cathy, do you regret not going? One last time?”
Cathy chose not to lie.
“No, Henry. I dont regret it. Why pretend? She didnt wish to see me, nor I her…”
Henry was silent for a moment.
“Perhaps youre right,” he sighed. “You always were the sensible one in this family. Well, till tomorrow.”
The funeral was quiet. Cathy was therejust for her mum and brother. She stood at a distance in her black coat, watching that dull, heavy sky you always seem to find overhead at a burial. When the coffin sank into the earth, she shed no tears.
Henry came over, put his arm around her.
“How are you holding up?”
“Fine, Henry. Really.”
“You know” he hesitated, “I was clearing out her flat Found a little box of old photos. Youre in them, Cathy. Loads. All trimmed carefully from family shots, kept apart.”
Cathy raised her brows in surprise.
“Why?”
“I dont know. Maybe she did feel something, just never could show it. Perhaps she worried that if she admitted loving you, thered be less for me. Old folk are odd.”
“Maybe,” Cathy shrugged. “But it doesnt matter now.”
They walked towards the gate under the same umbrellatall, steady Henry and small, slender Cathy.
Listen, Henry said as they reached their cars, Ive been thinking Ill sell Grans flat. Ill buy a big place for us, put by a flat each for the boys, and the rest Shall we start a little charity? Or give to childrens hospital? So Grans money might finally bring someone a little happiness.
Cathy looked at him and, for the first time that week, smiledgenuinely, fondly.
“You know, Henry That would be the kindest revenge on Edith May. The best kind in the world.”
“Settled, then?”
“Settled.”
They drove away in different directions. Cathy rolled through the city, music playing, feelingfor the first timea complete and peaceful calm within.
Perhaps her brother was right. Let some of that money help a child in need. That would be only fair.
