18th May
Well, that was a turn up for the books! Instead of just a hello, I blurted out Well, this is a surprise! when I saw the petite, sprightly old lady in faded jeans standing at the door, her thin lips curled up in a mischievous smile. Her bright, twinkling eyes peeked out from beneath narrowed lids, clearly sizing me up.
Lydias grandma, Mrs. Edith Harris I recognised her instantly. But how on earth did she arrive without warning? Not even a simple phone call.
Hello there, lad! she announced, still grinning. Arent you going to let your gran in?
Oh! Yes, sorry, come in, Mrs. Harris! I fumbled, already feeling a bit flustered.
She trundled her little suitcase into the hallway. As I made her a strong cup of tea by her demand she rattled off the facts: So, Lydias still at work and little Rosies at nursery. And you, what are you doing, loafing about?
They put me on mandatory leave for two weeks, I sighed, trying to hide my disappointment at the sudden loss of my dream holiday. Hopefully, I asked, So, er, how long are you staying?
Oh, a while, she replied, her tone smashing my last hopes of a quiet fortnight.
To be honest, Id met Edith just once at our wedding shed come down from Manchester and disappeared back up North soon after. But Id heard plenty about her from my father-in-law, who spoke about her in hushed tones, regularly glancing over his shoulder for good measure. The man respected her, almost to the point of trembling.
Come on then, wash up those cups and get yourself ready! Youre taking me out for a walk round the city. I want to see the sights!
I had no objection. Frankly, her tone reminded me of my old sergeant, the one whose orders you ignored at your own peril.
Well start at the riverfront! Whats the quickest way to get there? She took my arm and marched me confidently outside, taking in everything with a sharp gaze.
Er Taxi, I suppose, I shrugged.
Without warning, Mrs. Harris puckered her fingers into a ring and let out a piercing whistle. A black cab screeched to a halt.
Do you really need to whistle like that? What will people think? I muttered as I helped her into the front seat.
She just grinned. Oh, theyll probably just think youve not taught me any manners, she winked, setting the cabbie off into a fit of laughter. The two exchanged a slap of the hands like old mates celebrating a private joke.
You know, Sam, youre a very polite young man, Edith commented as we strolled along the river later, but me? Ive never been a lady in the classic sense. My late husband, bless him, he was quiet a real bookworm. And then I blew in like a hurricane and whisked him off his feet. Dragged him up mountains, even got him to jump out of a plane with me though the hang glider was a step too far. He always waited on solid ground with our daughter, while I circled above.
I listened in growing amazement. Lydia had never mentioned her grans wild stories or taste for adventure. No wonder she was such a force of nature. She eyed me up and down.
Ever done a parachute jump yourself, Sam?
In the Army. Fourteen times, actually, I admitted, with a touch of pride.
Good lad! I respect that. She nodded approvingly, and then began singing softly:
Well tumble down through the sky so blue,
In this long, slow fall.
I recognised the old tune, and couldnt help but join in:
Silky white canopies flutter and soar,
While gulls are calling, too.
Singing together stripped away any nervousness I might have felt. Suddenly she wasnt a terrifying matriarch, just my slightly mad, but wonderful, grandmother-in-law.
Right, lets have a bite to eat, she suggested. That food stall over there looks promising. Smell that barbecue?
The cook, a middle-aged man with bushy eyebrows and a wicked grin, was skewering marinated meat with more flair than most would dare. His fierce vibe made him seem equally at home behind the grill or duelling in a back alley pure theatre.
As Mrs. Harris sat down opposite him, she surprised us both by breaking into song:
Hello there, friend,
Lets sing and feast as one!
The chef, caught off guard, looked at her, then erupted into laughter and replied:
Singing and eating thats what I call a day well spent!
He set out plates of shish kebab, warm flatbread, and piles of fresh herbs. He even brought over two glasses of icy English cider, bowing deeply with a hand on his chest.
Drawn by the smell, a bedraggled grey kitten timidly crept up to our table, eyes fixed hopefully on us.
And youre exactly who we need, little man. Mrs. Harris beamed. Come here. She turned to the grinning chef, Could you bring a bit of fresh meat for our new friend, please? Cut it up small!
While the kitten devoured his treat, Mrs. Harris fixed me with her trademark stare.
Youve got a little girl growing up in this house! How do you expect her to learn kindness, compassion, and care if you havent got a cat? This fluffballs your new assistant!
When we got home, Mrs. Harris set about bathing the hitchhiker while sending me off with a shopping list: litter tray, bowls, scratching post, a comfy bed. Hauling all the gear home, I opened the door to an explosion of cheerful squealing.
Lydia and Rosie were showering gran with hugs and kisses, while the young kitten, newly named Leo, watched the commotion from the back of the sofa with wide, bewildered eyes.
This is for you, Rosie, a little summer outfit, gran was handing out presents already. And for you, Lydia. Nothing puts a glint in a husbands eye like a bit of lacy underwear
For the next week, Rosie stayed out of nursery. Each morning, she and gran would vanish for adventures, returning tired but glowing just in time for lunch.
At home, Sam thats me! and Leo the kitten kept each other company until evening, when Lydia joined in and all of us headed out for another walk, Leo trotting along behind.
One night as we sat together, Mrs. Harris turned unusually serious. Sam, I need a word. Tomorrows the end of my visit time to head back. Once Im gone, give this to Lydia. She handed me a neat folder. My will. The flat and other bits go to Lydia, but you get the library all that my husband collected, signed treasures from some of the greats very valuable.
Oh, Mrs. Harris, you dont need to I started, but she silenced me with a wave.
Ive not told Lydia this, but I might as well tell you my hearts not been great. Could go at any moment, really. Time for plans.
You shouldnt be alone! I protested, truly worried.
Oh, Im never really alone. Besides, my daughters close, your mother-in-laws the next town over. Look after Lydia and Rosie, Sam. Youre a good man. And you know, Im not just your mother-in-law Im your mother-in-law squared! She slapped my shoulder and laughed her infectious laugh.
Stay a bit longer, please? I begged, painfully aware I was going to miss her.
She gave me a heartfelt smile and shook her head gently.
The next morning, we all went to see her off, even Leo tucked into Rosies arms, somber as the rest of us.
With fingers pursed into a perfect circle, Mrs. Harris let out that legendary whistle. Another black cab screeched up.
Come on, son youll see me safely on the train, she declared, kissing Lydia and Rosie soundly, then hopping into the front.
The cab driver stared in awe at this remarkable old lady who could stop London traffic with a whistle.
What are you gawping at? I grumbled. Never seen a perfectly respectable lady before?
Mrs. Harris threw back her curly grey hair, burst out laughing, and clapped my palm warmly, sealing the memory of her unstoppable spirit just as she always had.
