Bristol, England 2006

It was a 'non-weather' day. No sun, no rain, no wind; sky full of grey clouds, dark and dreary, mirroring my feelings to perfection.

I walked dejectedly up the garden path with my denim bag slung over my shoulder. The gravel scrunched beneath my feet. Reaching the door, I rang the bell, glancing around the garden while I waited. There were two things Gran hated; negative words and weeds. I saw no weeds in the garden and, no doubt, there would be no negative words in her house.

There was no one like Gran in my world. She was one on her own; a real character. She had her problems, too. Gall bladder operation, replacement hip, hernia, all in her late seventies and eighties, but she refused to be floored and I loved her more than anything.

The door slowly opened. There she stood, small, frail, white hair untidily scraped behind her ears, blue textured cardigan around her shoulders, smelling strongly of Lavender. A tonic in a woolly!

"My little Sugar! How lovely to see you" she said, her blue eyes dancing, mouth crinkled in a smile. She lifted an old hand to caress my face; the other held her wooden stick. I bent down to hug her and kissed her cheek.

"Come on in, lovey."

She ushered me in and I closed the door behind us.

"It's great to see you Gran, how are you keeping?" I asked.

"Very well, for ninety-nine Sugar, very well indeed. Come into the kitchen, I'll put the kettle on."

I followed her as she shuffled into the kitchen, which I was glad to note, was clean and tidy. At long last, Gran had (begrudgingly) allowed another woman into the house to clean.

"How's your mother? Coping with the menopause, I hope?"

Gran's eyes were sparkling with glee. Mum was well past all of that and in fact had come through it with no symptoms, apart from mild hot flushes.

"Gran, you are awful!"

"Well, if I can't be awful when I'm ninety nine, when can I be? They talk about it every day on the box, I'm just trying to be trendy" she replied, smiling.

She switched on the kettle, grabbed two mugs from the side and plopped a tea bag into each one.

"Sugar........ Sugar?" she asked, her hand hovering above the sugar basin. I never knew why, but she had always called me her 'Little Sugar'. I laughed. It was impossible to feel 'down' in Gran's house.

"Yes Gran, one please."

She made the tea, rapidly stirring in the sugar and I fetched the milk from the fridge.

We carried our tea into the lounge. Gran walked ahead of me with her stick, slopping her tea onto the carpet as she went. I was forbidden to carry it; she was far too independent for that. She sat down on the sofa, spreading a multi-coloured crocheted blanket across her knees and motioned for me to sit beside her. She sipped her tea, preferring it hot. I set my tea on the side table next to a plate of biscuits and sat at her side, after removing my jacket and placing it over the arm of the sofa.

"What's the news then darling? I hear you've moved in with that boyfriend of yours. I do hope you're being careful; don't want any unwanted babies do you, not before you finish your studies?" I blushed. Gran had never said personal things to me before. As for the studies..well...

"Gran, I wanted to ask your advice, actually." I was hesitant. Was it fair to burden her?

"That's what I'm here for darling. What are you worrying about?"

Her wrinkled eyes, full of concern penetrated mine, but I couldn't find the words, so I dug about in my bag and found photographs of Colin to show her. She set down her mug, took the photographs carefully in her gnarled fingers and peered at them.

"That's Colin, he's studying at Bristol University, Gran. I spent the weekend with him a few months ago, before I moved in. Look, there we are by the Clifton Suspension Bridge".

"He looks nice, darling. Treats you well, does he?"

"Yes Gran, he's lovely."

"I don't believe in this permissive society you know. What does the good book say? Um......Yes, 'Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind', I think that's it. It's true isn't it? Women and men don't trust one another anymore. I've seen it on the Trisha Show. They all think they're having affairs... and then they have affairs; it's all very bad. How can you have a good relationship without trust? It's impossible. Some women will sleep with any Tom, Dick or Harry... I much preferred Harry, myself."

She smiled as she stabbed a crooked finger at the photograph on the mantelpiece. He was Harry, my Grandad. Gran and I laughed, but I was feeling uncomfortable, what was I supposed to say?

"I've never slept around Gran, Colin is my one and only" I said, as I continued to blush.

"Oh Sugar, I didn't mean you, not at all. Now what's this problem. You can tell your old Gran." Her soft hand was stroking mine, lovingly. Very caring, was Gran. I sighed, deeply.

"It's that bad, is it?" she asked.

This was hard to confess, but I had to say it. I almost squirmed in my seat.

"I'm not doing very well at my studies, Gran. It's much harder than I thought and Colin wants me to get a job and stay with him in Bristol. I'm at Cardiff College all week and he misses me."

"Never mind Colin for now, Sugar, what do you want?"

"I want to finish Gran, but I failed my last exams and I'll have to stay another year at College to pass them. It's taking much longer than I thought. It's really hard!"

"Hand me that photo again" she said, nodding her head at me.

I passed over the photo of Colin and myself by the bridge. She pointed at it and said "That's Brunel's bridge and if I remember rightly, Sugar, it wasn't the first one he built. The first one was a flop. (I think I'm right, but you can look it up on that 'net' thingy, on your computer, when you get home). If Brunel had given up the first time, we wouldn't have that beautiful bridge and it is, I imagine, the most beautiful bridge in the country, if not the whole world. Brunel didn't give up, he carried on until he finished and what an achievement, don't you think?"

"So you think I should persevere, Gran?"

"Yes darling, I do. The harder it is the more you'll appreciate it when you finally pass, it's as simple as that and if Colin loves you, really loves you he'll support your decision. After all, you'll earn good money when you're a Physiotherapist, it's something to aim for isn't it? And you'll be helping other people won't you and that's really worthwhile."

She paused for a moment and then said,

"Are you worrying about money Sugar, is that it? I could lend you some if you like."

"Oh Gran......." Tears sprang to my eyes, the stress of the last few days was showing and her sympathy and kindness touched me deeply. I moved closer to her on the sofa and we hugged one another. A lone tear trickled down the side of my nose. I sniffed and pulled a tissue from my jeans' pocket.

"You'll feel better now, Sugar. A good cry does wonders!" said Gran patting my shoulder.

"Why is life so hard, Gran?" I asked as I dabbed my eyes "Why can't it be more simple?"

"Well darling, I think problems tend to sort the 'men from the boys', so to speak, or the 'women from the girls', but that doesn't sound so good, does it? I have every faith in you Sugar. You'll make the right decision, just you wait and see!"

She smiled and handed back the photograph, picked up her tea again and changing the subject she said, surprisingly,

"Have you read the Kamasutra yet? It's fascinating!"

I blushed deeper than before. "No Gran, I haven't and I don't believe you have either."

Gran laughed wickedly at the look on my face and again changed the subject.

"I'm having my hair permed next Wednesday."

"Permed? You always said you wouldn't get your hair permed." I looked at her in surprise.

"A woman can change her mind, Paula, that's her prerogative; anyway, I've asked the Good Lord to take me home next Thursday, so I thought I'd have a perm on Wednesday," again she laughed wickedly "I want to look ravishing when they lay me out."

I laughed, not believing a word of it, "Oh Gran, you're incorrigible."

We spent the rest of the afternoon gossiping and eating the chocolates I had brought for her. And later, we had chicken salad followed by strawberries and cream.

Gran told me about her neighbours, the Williams and all the things they did and we had a good laugh together. The Williams were an odd couple who didn't have children and they were rather eccentric, but they were good to Gran and that was the main thing. Mr Williams vacuumed and washed his car, a red 'Kia Picanto', every week, cleaning and polishing until it shone. Gran said it was surprising the paintwork stood up to all that scrubbing. Perhaps, she said, he thought the harder he polished the more likelihood there was of a genie appearing to grant his wish. And she knew what he would wish for. His wife couldn't cook very well, she always burnt the toast, he often grumbled about it; and once she caught the kitchen on fire. And, of course, he grumbled about that too.

I left that evening feeling quite elated. Gran had helped me make up my mind. I would do as she said and carry on with my studies, however long it took. Mrs Marshall, a neighbour who lived opposite, called in just as I was leaving and I left Gran in her capable hands.

At the door, Gran said to me seriously, "I was only joking you know."

"The perm?" I asked.

"No Sugar, the Kamasutra. Not everything is decent you know. Your granddad was a very decent human being...and so am I" she smiled sweetly.

"I knew you were joking Gran!"

I bent down smiling and kissed my small, frail Gran whose tiny frame belied the strength of her 'granite' character, although her heart was pure gold.

She stroked my cheek with her fingers, "I love you, darling, so much. Now take care of yourself and make sure you pass those exams, for your own sake." We said goodbye and I left, Gran waving to me from the doorway, until Mrs Marshall came to help her back inside (much to Gran's annoyance).

Sad to say, I never saw Gran again. She had her hair permed on the following Wednesday and the Good Lord took her home on the Thursday, just as she'd wanted. The family was devastated. My world was never the same without Gran, but she left me £1,427 in her Will in the hope that I would one day be a Physiotherapist. Dear, sweet Gran!

I followed Gran's advice and continued with my studies, the money coming in very handy. I also bought a print of Brunel's beautiful suspension bridge and often looked at it and thought of her. When I was 'up against it' I re-doubled my efforts.

Eventually, after much hard work and the usual 'ups and downs' I passed my Physiotherapy exams, but unfortunately, Colin was sacrificed along the way. He didn't support me and we had a huge falling out. He was rather a male chauvinist, beneath all that charm. I wondered if Gran could see that just by looking at his photograph. He became 'water under the bridge'. It was a real shame and rather upset me at the time.

Shortly afterwards I fell down in the supermarket on a cracked egg and slid along the floor ending up at the feet of Paul Brown, GP (well, he was starting the following Monday). When he examined my swollen ankle with his strong hands I knew at once that he was the one (not to mention his lovely eyes and beautiful smile).

So now we practise together, Dr Paul Brown and Mrs Paula Brown and there is, of course, on the surgery wall the largest picture of Brunel's amazing bridge.

Just for inspiration.

As if we need it...

                                                                                THE END

I hope you enjoyed this.  It was published by a Woman's Magazine in

2006 and was my first ever short story, so I was thrilled.