well howdy do folks. It's been a while but here are some more chapters for you. Poor Agatha has been through the mill but it's all good, it'll all come good in the end!
Chapter 13
A few months later and Agatha had moved in with her grandmother, leasing her flat out to an old school friend who needed to crash somewhere for a while after a nasty breakup with her boyfriend. Agatha took the spare bedroom in the Victorian terrace which was small but comfortable.
Her Nan had made quite a recovery, proving the doctors right when they had said there was a small but definite chance. Even though she was bed ridden and needing carers, she was able to speak and use her right hand well enough that she could write and use her iPhone.
Atta was made of strong stuff but her dependence on others was a problem. She was becoming a cantankerous old woman, calling her carers nasty names and snapping at them for things she would have laughed at 6 months previously. Even with her beloved granddaughter she had changed, but such was the love and patience that Agatha had that it washed over her and didn't effect her.
At least she didn't think it effected her, but there were times when her nan was tucked up in bed and sleeping that Agatha found herself crying into her pillow, mourning the nan that she had lost only to be replaced with this nan, the snappy one, the dependent one, the one who relied on her night and day.
Agatha had taken some time off when Atta had been released from hospital, taking the holidays that she had accrued. Victoria was less than happy that her most hard working and reliable employee was actually taking time off but there was nothing she could say to deter her. In fact Agatha had threatened her with resignation, stating that no one was more important to her than her nan, who needed her far more than any child ever would. It had the desired effect but now, months down the line, Agatha was having to juggle a full time job with a night time caring position, and she was exhausted.
Agatha had seen much more of her father in the last few months than she had seen since she was a little girl. When she was small her mother and father had been married, but never happily. She remembered many rows, many nights that he came home late, or not at all, and many mornings when her mother would throw things at him - vases, mugs of coffee, the odd pair of scissors - in fury that he smelt of alcohol or cheap perfume. Agatha did not know whether he was having affairs in those early days of her life but from the age of 9 it was evident that he was. He rarely came home and occasionally had women turn up on the doorstep waiting for him. Her mother had simply given up, not seeming to care any longer if he stayed out all night with one of his lover women, choosing instead to take antidepressants and watch daytime tv. Agatha had learnt to fend for herself in those early days - getting herself ready for school, cooking for herself, filling out forms, doing her homework. Nobody seemed to notice her, except for her Nan that was. But Agatha had never been one to tell tales or complain so she had not said anything to Atta, and whenever Atta came over to the house her daughter in law put on a very convincing show that everything was fine. Atta was never convinced however so often asked if Agatha could stay the weekend, or come out for tea most nights.
“Is everything alright at home Aggie Wags?” she would ask when she picked her up from school for the fifth day in a row.
Agatha would always smile her brightest smile and say “bicketty too” as her dad always said.
Her father came home less and less until one day when Agatha was 13 he turned up on the doorstep with a younger woman on his arms and divorce papers in a plastic bag.
“Hey Aggie,” he beamed at his only daughter.
“Hi dad,” she replied cautiously.
“Is mum in?”
“Yes. She’s on the sofa, where she always is,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of the living room.
“I just came by to get some of my things, I’m leaving you see. This is Molly and…well she’s my good friend.”
Agatha rarely saw red in a situation but this made her really angry, more angry than she had ever felt.
“You abandoned me and mum, cheated on her countless times, left us without any money, and now you haven’t even got the decency to tell me the truth, that this is your latest girlfriend that you think you’re in love with. I’m not letting you in here, I’ll be selling all your stuff in a car boot sale if you want to buy it back.”
Molly sniggered.
“Don’t you have to have a car to do a CAR boot sale?” She looked around the drive pointedly and sneered at Agatha.
Agatha took a step towards the woman, causing her to stumble as she slipped off the doorstep. She regained her footing but now had her back up against the wall. Agatha carried on, knowing that what she was about to do went against her better judgment but knowing that she had to do something. She lunged at Molly, grabbing her peroxide blonde hair in her fist and yanking her to the gate where she threw her onto the pavement, shrieking “whore” as she did so.
Her father was distressed at seeing the two loves of his life fighting that and went to the rescue, grabbing Aggie round the waist and pulling her away from the scrap that was ensuing.
Agatha was furious, kept screaming at him, “let me go, give me a piece of her, you left us for HER?” He pulled her away, still with his arms strongly round her waist and took her inside the house, closing the front door behind him, keeping the two females separate but still able to hear the angry screams and torrent of abuse from outside the house.
He held onto Agatha and wouldn’t let go, even after he felt the strength eke out of her body. She started sobbing uncontrollably into her hands and he hugged her as tightly as he could, unable to stop his own tears from falling. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say.
Agatha’s mother came out of the living room and watched the whole scene, leaning against the door post with her arms folded. She watched as they hugged, as they cried, as they bonded, then simply turned and walked back to the television where she turned the volume up louder and lit a cigarette.
“Come with me Aggie,” said her father, tilting her chin to force her to look into his eyes. “Stay with me, you shouldn’t be here.”
Agatha looked at her father, every sensible instinct in her body telling her to run and avoid him but her broken and lost heart wanting desperately to feel the love that she had been deprived of from both of her parents.
“I can’t live with her,” she cried.
“I know, so come with me and Molly,” he beseeched her, a spark of light in his eyes.
“No, I mean I can’t live with HER,” she repeated, pointing outside to the still screaming banshee.
Her father faltered. “She’ll calm down love,” he said doubtfully. “She’s ok when you get to know her. Don’t stay here, your Mum’s not well. She can’t give you the love and attention a teenage girl needs.”
“Oh and Molly-the-twat can I suppose?”
“Agatha!”
“What? I’ve been left on my own, just Nan making sure I don’t end up on drugs or end up a prostitute. She’s the only one who has cared for me since I was a young girl, so you don’t get to come in here and tell me off for swearing.”
“Alright love, I’m sorry.”
“What for, Dad? Why are you sorry?”
“I’m sorry for - you know, telling you off. And for Molly.”
“But not sorry for leaving me alone with a seriously depressed woman who just needed your love? You just left us Dad.”
“Yeah, of course, I’m sorry about that too. Of course. But you have to know that she was impossible to live with. A man can’t deal with that much fuss, it can suffocate you Aggs.”
“Yeah well as a result I’ve grown up without any love from either of my parents. Neither of you cared enough to be there for me, to raise me, to input into my life.”
“I’m sorry -“
“Just stop saying that. I don’t want to hear it. I’m done with both of you. I’m going to live with Nan.”
“Ok Aggs, that’s a good idea. Your Nan will love the company, she would like that.”
Agatha didn’t say another thing. It would have been pointless. She nodded and walked away from him, heading upstairs to ring her Nan, who had been begging her granddaughter to live with her for a long time. Out of a sense of duty to her parents she had stayed but she felt no duty to them any more - what duty had they ever shown to her? With the arrangements made, she packed her things and left, not even bothering to tell her mum that she was leaving.
Since then Agatha had only seen her dad a handful of times...once when she got her GCSEs and passed with flying colours, once when she was out clubbing with a group of friends...he was dancing the night away with Molly, and once when he had gone to her Nans for sunday roast, her Nan trying to surprise her for her 16th birthday. Agatha hadn’t been very impressed with the surprise and told Atta that she had been hoping for a pony. She had said it drily and her Nan understood the joke but Molly, who had also been invited, couldn’t help but tut and mutter “how ungrateful” under her breath. It was not the greatest of birthdays.
Agatha popped in once a week to visit her mum, buying a few groceries but mostly going to check she was still alive. It was a small price to pay, for the happiness that living at her nans brought. Late night games of bridge with the neighbours, watching Strictly Come Dancing with wine and cheese, not to mention the occasional visit to the pub with Agathas friends where they would stay until last orders, jeering at the men and flirting with the staff. They were good times for Agatha, times that she got to know her nan and understand her better.
There were times however when her nan disappeared without a trace, stating that she was going to the shop for baking powder and then disappearing for hours on end. One time she told her granddaughter that she was going to water the plants in the front garden then disappeared for 2 whole days. Agatha did have her suspicions though, considering they had no plants because they were always left to die, and that she had a huge carpet bag with her when she walked out. But Agatha thought nothing of these things at the time, and when her nan got home eventually she would pretend to scold her then ask where she had been. Atta Monroe would never tell, only saying that she had been to see a man about a dog, or that the sun never shines on the unrighteous. (This one didn't make sense but Agatha didn't care.)
This was why it was so hard for Agatha to see her nan this way. Always in bed grumpy, restless. Agatha came home one day, a few months later, and saw that the carers had been earlier today, leaving her nan unattended for 2 hours. Agatha was angry when she read the notes and sprinted up the stairs two at a time to check she hadn't done something stupid like try to get out of bed.
Agatha stopped, however, when she reached the bedroom. She could hear sniffing, whimpering, crying from her strong nan.
She walked in and gently took her arm.
"Nan? Hey Nan, it's me. What's the matter?"
Atta tried to wipe her face and stop crying but at the sight of Agathas concerned face she cried louder, harder.
"I'm just so..so sorry," she wailed, big tears rolling down her face and splashing on the fresh sheets.
"Why nan, what's happened?"
Atta cried for a few more minutes then Agatha saw her strength return and she steeled herself again, preparing to downplay the tears.
"Oh it's nothing, really. I'm just being a silly old woman."
"Nan, why are you sorry?"
"I'm just feeling a bit sorry for myself that's all. I'm sorry for putting you out, making you care for me, I'm sorry that you're not out there meeting new people and finding love and settling down with kids of your own."
"Oh nan, there's nowhere I would rather be, you know that. I don't want all those things yet, I've got plenty of time. Come on, don't cry."
"There are....things. Things you don't know. About me."
"That's ok, you don't need to tell me anything. I love you as you are. Now who did you murder?"
Atta looked at her with wide eyes for some time until she said "Mr Watkins. 1977. With the cattle prod."
Agatha gasped, hand flying to her mouth, before realising that her nan had a twinkle in her eyes and was trying not to laugh.
"Oh nan, that got me. Phew," she said, fanning herself with her hand. They giggled for a moment and Agatha felt a jolt of happiness rush through her - surely this was the start of her nans recovery? The depression would lift, they could start talking about physiotherapy, a stair lift to get her down the stairs, wheelchairs to get her out...anything was possible. Agatha took her hand.
"Now I know you didn't murder anyone I can relax."
"I haven't always been a good grandmother to you Agatha," Atta started, raising her good hand to stop her from arguing.
"I haven't. There are things you don't know. Things you probably...should know."
"Nan, I don't -"
"Let me talk. I haven't talked like this in a while and I need to get some things off my chest. I don't have a great relationship with your dad, as you probably know. Your grandfather, Tom, he was a good man. I need you to know that...he loved me, and I loved him. We had been in school together and he was the most handsome boy, the one all the girls wanted. So when he asked me out on a date, no-one was more surprised than me…of course I said yes and we got on really well. He was wonderful and he would have done anything for me. We enjoyed many years of blissful marriage, taking holidays to Brighton, spending christmas in front of a tiny tree, long walks through the country. So when I fell pregnant with our first child I was excited, I thought this would complete us. Plus, when you're happy and in love, the next step is always to have children, if you are blessed with the ability.
"Well I was and when I found out I told Tom, making a big song and a dance about it, dragging out the moment when I revealed this marvellous information to him. He thought I had bought him a motorbike, poor chap. So when I eventually told him that he would be a father he shut down, and wouldn't speak to me for a month. Not because he was disappointed there would be no bike, you understand. He was withdrawn and sullen, barely coming home to me, choosing to work all hours under the sun instead.
"One day he came home drunk and tried to force himself on me. My Tom had never laid a finger on me before and I knew it wasn't in his nature, but something had changed. I didn't know what it was, I couldn't understand why he would react so badly to such good news.
"I managed to push him away from me and scramble to safety but he was quicker and stronger and he grabbed my ankle, forcing me to the ground. Well I was so scared that something would happen to the baby that I let him carry on his business and the next day nothing was said. In fact he woke up happier and actually kissed me goodbye after breakfast. I was scared of him after that but he never tried anything like it again.
"Your dad was born one dark and gloomy day in January and it was the best day in my life when I held him in my arms. He held my finger in his fist and I cried non stop. Tom came in an hour later and looked at him briefly before walking out the door. He didn't hold him, wouldn't ask how I was, wouldn't acknowledge him in any way, even when I named him Thomas in honour of his daddy.
"Well I got myself home in a taxi and carried on with life at home. Tom came back from time to time but I think he found life better on his own. He was living in a caravan that his mate rented to him and he was happy. He sent money back to us every month but it was never enough...not now I had to pay the bills as well as provide for a little one. So I decided if I had to get a job that I would get a good one...a nurse was what I decided on.
"Well I started training a few months later and the next door neighbour looked after your dad. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, leave him with another woman, even someone who had had 5 of her own, but I had to steel myself to the task and get on with it.
"I enjoyed the training, met some great people - other girls, lots of nice doctors on the ward, interesting patients. I worked hard at it and found I really enjoyed myself. I missed the baby but he was happy and settled next door so all was good. So I thought. Because one day Tom came home as I was in work and changed all the locks, throwing a few bags of my clothes out onto the street, but choosing to throw the baby's things away...I found them stuffed into the bin when I got home.
"It turns out that a friend of ours had bumped into him and let it slip that I was getting on well in the hospital. She mentioned that I had been seen on the arm of a nice young doctor at a party and that it was a shame we couldn't have worked things out. Of course I would've loved a chance to work things out but he wouldn't speak to me. My friend wasn't meddling, she genuinely thought she was helping. But he saw red, thinking that I was getting on with my life without him, thinking I was taking him for every penny he had, thinking I was playing him. The ironic thing was that the young doctor and I had been good friends...but I wasn't keen on him in any way. When I married Tom it was for life and I never looked at a man in the same way as I looked at him.
"In truth I could barely make ends meet. Your dad was growing fast, I would buy him shoes and the next month he had outgrown them. I would feed him good food but he was always hungry for more. Then my neighbour decided to increase the fees I was paying her, saying it wasn't worth her while minding a kid who was so energetic. This was the last straw, I wasn’t going to fight Tom for the house, he was welcome to it. So I found that we were living on the street, cast out of the only home we knew. I had a friend with a spare room, she let us live with her for a while but it would never be a long term arrangement, not when I had a toddler running about breaking things and running in her room first thing in the morning after she had been working a night shift.
"I took extra hours at the hospital, I worked at night in the local shop stacking shelves and I found a place we could rent...it was so cheap because the walls had damp and there was only one bedroom. But the lad and I were happy, we had a place of our own.
"I was tired but before long he was in full time education and things settled down again. I didn't see Tom for a long time, I stayed away from our old house not wanting to confront him about why he had turned the way he had. But one day I was working in the hospital and a patient was wheeled onto the ward. I knew him at once from the way he groaned, the way he shouted for a nurse to help. I found myself backing away from the ward, wanting to run and hide, but the matron was behind me and hated shirkers. She raised her eyebrows at me and folded her arms. She also hated personal problems, they were to be kept outside, so I had to take a deep breath and attend to my estranged husband.
“Now then Mr Monroe,” I said in my most clipped voice, “what seems to be the problem?”
“I picked up his notes, trying to avoid looking at him and read that he had suspected appendicitus and was due to have surgery the next day.
“I put the notes down and finally looked at him. He was pale, he had lost weight, he was looking old, a few grey hairs shading the side of his head. I immediately felt a sadness like I had never felt before - this man was a shadow of the man I had married. Not for the first time I wondered what had gone wrong? What had I done wrong?
“Emotion must have showed on my face because even in his pain he grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
““I was hoping it would be you,” he said, beads of sweat gathering on his brow.
““You - you were?” I asked tentatively.
““I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said, writhing with the pain. “I never meant to hurt you like this. If I could take it all back I would.”
““But Tom,” I said quietly for the matron was glancing over suspiciously, “what happened to us? It all went so horribly wrong, when I told you I was pregnant.”
““I…I never wanted…” He was struggling with the pain and I turned to go and get him some pain relief.
“”No,” he gasped, “not yet. Just stay, I don’t want you to go. I need you to know…”
““Well the sister will be over in a minute asking why I am not dealing with the other patients.” Despite my sadness I couldn’t help but remember the endless nights of worrying about finances, where they would live, if young Thomas would turn out alright without a father. It was hard to let all of this go.
““I never wanted children,” he whispered.
““But you never told me that,” I said.
“”I tried but whenever you looked at babies in their prams, or children at the park you couldn’t take your eyes off them. I knew that if I told you I didn’t want children that it would break your heart. I just thought that if I kept quiet that maybe it would never happen, and maybe you would forget.
““I even tried to learn when it was your time - you know, your…” he stumbled on the words, not wanting to embarrass himself.
““Monthly?”
“”Yes. I knew that there were certain times of the month that I should stay away from you because you would be more likely to become pregnant. It obviously didn’t work.”
““But why did you react like that when I told you?”
““I thought I had been careful and when you told me I assumed you had been with another man. My behaviour towards you was unforgivable and…I’m sorry.”
““I never loved anyone like I loved you Tom Monroe. You stupid man. What made you realise that I hadn’t been with anyone else?”
“”The day I saw him in your arms at the hospital. I knew he was mine, just as I knew you were mine the first day I saw you at school. We belonged together.”
“”But you barely glanced at him,” I said, baffled.
“”I watched you both from the window outside the ward. You were so besotted that you didn’t look up once at me and I knew then that I would have to share your love from now on. I didn’t want it, couldn’t face it. I looked at him for a very long time, willing myself to hate him, but I couldn’t. I just saw a helpless baby who had done nothing wrong. But I knew then that I couldn’t go back to the way things were. I came in to say goodbye to you but words were too hard, I couldn’t speak for fear that I would give myself away. So I glanced at him and left.”
“I looked at him for the longest time,” Atta said to Agatha, a faraway look in her eyes, “but what was I to do? We had moved on, he had chosen to desert us, abandon us and all because he didn’t get his own way. All because he wanted me to himself.”
“So what happened next,” asked Agatha, with tears in her eyes.
“I nodded to let him know that in my own way I understood, and that I forgave him. Then I went to get him some pain medication. By the time I got back to him he had been wheeled away into the operating theatre where he died from a ruptured appendix. I never saw him alive again.”
“Oh Nan,” Agatha said, tears flowing freely now, “I’m so so sorry, that’s awful,” she said.
“I thought that maybe we would inherit the house after that, maybe we could start living comfortably again but it turned out that he wrote me out of his will, leaving everything to a brother he rarely saw. I wasn’t angry, not really. We had made our peace with each other, like I said he wasn’t a bad man. Just …complicated I suppose you young folks would say.”
“How old was dad when he died?”
“Your father was 6. He didn’t really understand why his father was never around, he had no memories of him. When he saw me crying the next day and I told him why, he just shrugged at me and told me he had thought he was already dead. We never talked about him after that though I would have liked to, to keep his memory alive.
“Then I retrained as a midwife. I couldn’t stand the environment on the ward after that, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I loved babies, Tom was right about that. So in no time at all I was bringing babies into the world and it suited me right down to the ground.”
“I just keep thinking that if I had just persevered with Tom, if I’d tried to reconcile our marriage instead of giving up so soon, maybe your father would have turned out better - maybe he would have been a better father.”
“Wait,” Agatha said suddenly, “you’re not blaming yourself for my dad are you? You’re not apologising for him Nan, you are not to blame, we all make our own choices. You did a great job especially given the circumstances.” Agatha couldn’t believe this strong, beautiful woman, who had been through so much in her life could actually think like this about herself. It was so out of character.
“Nan,” Agatha said, wiping her tears and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m going to make a nice cup of sweet tea for us both, then I’ll come back up and we can have a good chin wag, Ok?”
Atta laughed, a sweet cup of tea was always what she prescribed but never something she actually liked the taste of. She would drink it today though to appease her sweet, adorable, wonderful granddaughter.
Agatha ran down the stairs, feeling better even though the story she had just been told was awful. She didn’t know it was possible to feel closer to her Nan but now she did and it felt good.
She made the tea and put a packet of jaffa cakes on the tray. For the rest of the evening they talked and talked, only stopping when Atta had fallen asleep mid sentence. Agatha smiled to herself and tucked her Nan in, kissing her on the forehead before turning out the light and taking the tea things back downstairs.
In the night Atta had another stroke and this time it was fatal.
Chapter 14
Agatha
Agatha looked out of the window and saw with surprise that the snow was falling thick and fast and that a layer of white was covering everything outside of her house. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder at the beauty of it all, the way the snow fell was mesmerising and she sat and watched it for a few minutes longer than she should.
Finally she left the comfort of the spare room and went back to join her guests. They were all on their phones texting, browsing - who cares? But not one of them was talking.
Charles
‘So I’m trying to update my status on facebook but it looks like there’s no coverage here. I wonder what the wifi password is? She probably wouldn’t tell me if I asked.’ Charles had completely embraced the Iphone, as he had since learnt to call it, discovering how to text, make phone calls and even downloaded facebook though he only had 5 friends (his mother, George, Fran, Joan the National Trust manager and an unknown person from Nigeria called Nigel. He seemed friendly enough and liked to discuss cricket.) Charles put the phone down, however when his host walked back in - his high class manners prevented him from social networking whilst at a dinner party, even if this in no way actually resembled a dinner party.
Ruby
Ruby looked through the photos on her phone as she often did when she was feeling low. There was one picture of Paul she had allowed herself to keep…it was a good one of him, where he was laughing at something she had said before she clicked the button on her phone. It was great lighting and his face seemed to glow. She loved that picture. She had one of her father too, whom she had visited on many an occasion. She wasn’t allowed to take pictures of him but had a few on her phone that she had taken the night he got arrested. Then there was one more photo of value to her and that was the selfie that she had taken with Atta a few months after they had met. They were both cross eyed in the shot, giggling their heads off just before because it had taken them so long to get the picture in focus. She missed Atta most of all.
Ben
‘What r u doing now?’ he typed.
‘Eating curry and playing Gran turismo with mum,’ came the reply from Giles after a few moments.
‘Man you are one lucky mo fo’ he typed, pressing send just as the hostess walked back in the room. He looked up and her and did a double take,she had been crying and was carrying something in her hands. He felt guilty and put his phone back in his pocket, jumping up to see if everything was ok. He might wish he was elsewhere but he hated seeing a pretty girl in distress.
Agatha
‘I must look a state,’ Agatha thought as she walked back into the room. Ben jumped up as soon as he took one look at her, Ruby stared at her face and looked guilty and even charles had the decency to put his phone away and clear his throat when she sat back down.
“So here it is,” she announced, sitting back at the head of the table and placing the letter before her. “The letter my grandmother insisted we read together.”
Charles
‘Finally’ he thought, trying to hide the relief he felt by yawning instead.
Ruby
‘Finally’ she thought, looking down at the table and sighing. She glanced up when it had gone quiet and realised that she had spoken again. ‘Wow,’ she thought, ‘I never knew I did that so much.’
Ben
Ben sat back down in his seat, unsure whether or not he should hold her hand or stroke her soft olive coloured skin in sympathy. Obviously she was not going to get any from these two insensitive idiots.
Agatha
Agatha looked at her guests and grimaced. She willed herself to stay quiet and play the dutiful host her grandmother had begged her to be but at the sight of Charles yawning yet again she felt she could contain herself no more.
“Are we boring you that much, Charles?” she snapped.
There were three pairs of surprised eyes that were looking in her direction but she couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Um… a bit I suppose,” he answered.
Ruby sniggered.
“I suppose you’re still bored too, miss I’m-Too-Cool-For-This-Dinner-Party, you miserable cow.”
‘Uh-oh, I’m getting out of hand.’ thought Agatha. But she was on a roll now, she couldn’t stop herself if she tried.
“Agatha,” started Ben quietly, raising a hand in a calming down manner, “why don’t you just -“
“Oh shut up Ben,” she snapped at him, “don’t think I haven’t seen you looking at me doe eyed ever since you saw me in my knickers. I don’t know what my Nan saw in all of you but personally I’m glad I never have to set eyes on you ever again after this letter has been read out. It’s bad enough that I have to read this in front of you all, I would much rather read it to myself and be able to have a good cry without you lot judging me and laughing at me.”
“Well why don’t you then?” asked Charles. He seemed genuinely confused.
Agatha looked at him and wondered how much on the autistic scale he was.
“Because my Nan wrote me a separate letter and made me promise that I would meet you somehow, that the four of us would get together for one night only and just meet. You were all people she loved and treasured and she wanted me to know you like she did. Well I’ve kept that promise but it was never required of me that I love you all too. I’m not sure what she saw in you all personally.”
They all sat quietly until Agatha sighed.
“I’m sorry. I-“
“Just read the letter, ok?” interrupted Ruby.
Agatha nodded and opened the envelope. She pulled the letter out slowly and unfolded the paper. She took a deep breath and started to read.
“My dear Agatha and my dear friends,
I am truly very sorry that I died. It was not my intention as I had planned on living forever - or at least until I delivered my first great-grandchild. (If that ever happens, isn’t that right, Aggie Wags?) Lol, only joking.”
Agatha laughed, there was no way that she would’ve let Atta Monroe, midwife extraordinaire, anywhere near her lady bits. Plus she was very forgetful, who knew where she might end up leaving her glasses.
“I certainly feel as though I have been taken from you all far too soon. First I suppose I must address the issue of how I knew I would die. Well it happens to us all eventually of course, and having had quite a doozy of a stroke a few months ago I knew that my days were numbered. No-one of my age recovers well from a stroke of that magnitude. Plus when you get to a certain age you know…you know that it may be just around the corner. You feel it at night, creeping in the shadows, lurking by your side as you go to the toilet for the tenth time. Anyway, I’m dead.
My dear Charles. First of all there are things that you have to know. I’m guessing that you know most of these things by now, your mother must have told you. Yes, you have a sister; well a half sister at least. Your father was not who you thought he was, and he knew that you weren’t his. This must have been hard for you to learn, and I’m sorry that you did not grow up with a father figure - I have first hand experience of how tough this can be on a boy.
My lovely, sweet Ruby.”
At this all of the gathering looked bemused at Ruby - not least Ruby herself, who shrugged at the others.
My lovely, sweet Ruby. You have endured many hardships through the last few years and for this I am sorry. Dealing with the death of your boyfriend and the imprisonment of your father for murdering him has been tough on you but you have coped well and you are stronger than you think. I beg you Ruby, please please restart that music career of yours - you were, no are amazing and a great future lies ahead of you if you can just move on. I love you sweet girl and I’m leaving you with a precious gift indeed.
Now Ben ben, my strapping lad, I have some bad news and some good news. First of all your brother is dying.”
Agatha faltered at this and looked at Ben tenderly. He caught her eye and they had a moment between them until Charles coughed impatiently.
“I know that you know this, I know that you have been told that his death may be closer than you had thought, but do not fear it my boy, he is in pain, he is fed up, and he is desperate for you to find some sort of a life. Do not fear his death, for here is where the good news comes in…I will be waiting for him, and wherever we may end up (and trust me there is an afterlife, of this I am certain), I will dance with him and run with him and attempt cartwheels in a long grassed meadow with him. And here we will talk of the person you have become - your insecurities, your fears, your complete dread of being alone and having to fend for yourself. My boy, be strong.
So why have I called you together? My granddaughter, in one word.”
Here Agatha stopped, a lump forming in her throat, unable to carry on. It was at this time that Charles shouted, “bloody hell, look at the snow!” and the letter became temporarily forgotten in Agatha’s hands.
Charles
Charles hadn’t meant to be insensitive - it was one of those moments that he let his worries get the better of him and he had been trying for so long to learn how to stay under control. But it had come as a shock, the snow was falling so heavily that it had become impossible to see any cars outside. He rushed to the window and stared out glumly.
“There’s no way I’m getting back home tonight - not in this. My mum will be so worried, I’d better ring her.” He took his phone out of his pocket and went into the other room to ring her.
“Hi Mum,” he said when she finally picked up. He was in the spare room so started rummaging through the shoe drawer to make sure his precious wine was safe.
“Charles, where are you? Are you on your way back?”
“No mummy, we were reading the letter from Atta - sorry, aunty Atta - and we got distracted.” Charles started panicking, he couldn’t find the wine and he knew exactly where he had hidden it. Damn, she must have come in and found it.
“But Charles, tomorrow is Christmas Eve, you must be home for our traditions. I can’t do them without you.”
“Mummy stop worrying, I’ll do what I can.” He started looking around the room, trying to see where someone like Agatha would hide a bottle of wine.
He talked for her for a few more minutes and it was soon clear that firstly he was going to have to stay the night with these…these people, and secondly that he would never find the wine in a room with so many drawers and hiding places. He sat down on a bench seat by the window and sighed.
Ruby
‘Looks like I’m the only person who has no-one to call,’ she thought drily. ‘That’s me, a loner. I suppose I could call Old man Taylor, just so it looks like I’ve got someone who loves me but then he’d probably think I was hoping for a snog, and that most definitely is not on the cards.’ Ruby went to the window and looked out, wrapping her arms around her for warmth even though the house was quite cosy. It was to comfort herself more than anything else. She thought about the things that Atta had said about her. She had always had the ability to see things that nobody else could see. And could she ever go back to music? Ruby doubted it somehow but she admitted that the thought of standing on stage singing to crowds of people still got her excited, and maybe it was something to consider once this long night was over. Looks like they would have to endure each other for a few more hours.
Ben
“Hey bud,” Ben called jovially, “it looks like I’m not coming home tonight after all, I scored a hot date with this chick who I’ve already seen in her undies.” He tried staying as light as he could but the words in Attas letter were still ringing in his ears and the last place he wanted to be right now was in this house far away from his brother. In fairness he could probably walk it but he had arrived in the wrong clothes and didn’t know if he would survive the distance.
“It’s alright chap,” Giles said, “don’t fret. Tell me, does she have a sister who happens to like men who have very little function left in their body?”
Ben bit his lip to compose himself and said “sorry mate, only child. Listen, you sure you’re ok? I’m gutted mate, I wanted to be back so we can watch The Snowman on repeat all day and drink mulled cider until we can’t see straight. But as soon as I wake I’ll try and get a taxi or something, ok?”
“It’s fine Ben, mum is doing a great job of looking after me. we’ll still be here when you get back ok? G’night.”
“Night bud,” he said, hearing the click of the phone cutting off on the other end. He took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together.
Agatha
Of all the nights that her strange guests had to be snowed in it was this one. Her night had been a terrible one from the moment that Charles walked in through the door, refusing to give her the bottle of wine, until the moment that she had started reading the letter, choking on the words that her Nan had written just days before she died. Agatha had a feeling that her Nan had simply given up and decided that she was going to die. It would be just like her.
The wine! She remembered where she had hidden it and knew that Charles would be checking up on it. She ran into the spare room and looked as he smugly sat smiling on the bench seat.
“All ok?” she asked breezily.
“Oh just fine,” he replied, with his best attempt at a wink. It looked more like a squint and Agatha snorted a laugh at the absurdity of it all.
When they had all finished their phone calls they gathered once again in the dining room.
“So I suppose you two can take the spare room and Ruby, you and I can sleep in my bed.”
“No offense Agatha but I can’t sleep in your bed with you. I’ll take the sofa.”
“No, I need the sofa because I have sleep apnoea and I don’t want to keep anyone awake,” said Charles with the first act of selflessness the company had seen so far.
“That’s kind of you Charles but I am a heavy sleeper, let Ruby have the couch.”
“No,” said Charles, “I have sleep apnoea and it’s very bad. Plus I can’t sleep in the same room as you Ben, you might try something with me in my sleep and I don’t want that.”
They all looked at him baffled until Ruby said “He’s not gay, you know that, right?”
“He’s not?” said Charles, confused.
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh.Ok. But i still don’t want to sleep in the same room as you,” he said shrugging his shoulders.
Agatha rolled her eyes. How on earth had her Nan had any tolerance for these people?
“Ok well sleep where you want. I have spare pillows and blankets, and I can lend you some pyjamas Ruby. If you want some, of course.”
The house became a hive of activity for a few minutes as people helped Agatha tidy the kitchen. Charles made some teas and coffees and Agatha found the box of chocolate biscuits she had been saving for christmas day. No point in keeping them for just herself and plus her guests were probably still hungry.
“Shall we finish the letter?” she asked after some time.
They all nodded their assent and they sat in the living room, three of them in close proximity on the sofa and Charles on the floor.
“So why have I called you together? My granddaughter, in one word. She is the light of my life and always has been. The day she was born she won my heart like no-one else had been able to do. She is so pure, so good, and I adore her. By this point of the evening I expect you have tried her food. For this I am sorry…”
“Huh,” Agatha started, “what a cheek.” But she had no sympathy from the others who were giggling and nudging each other in a rare show of companionship.
“Oh come on Aggs, it was pretty bad,” Ben said poking her in the ribs.
“How long did you spend cooking again?” laughed Ruby, showing a beautiful smile that she had not yet revealed.
“Yeah, it was shit,” said Charles, expecting everyone to laugh more. But they just stopped abruptly and shook their heads.
Agatha smiled as she cast her eyes back down to the letter.
“I have tried to impart my skills down to my granddaughter but I’m afraid that I am not much better - I make a mean bowl of Heinz tomato soup and a very tasty christmas pudding, but I doubt somehow that she has tried to make this tasty combination for you tonight.”
They all looked at her expectantly and Agatha said coyly, “Well I did buy a few tins of tomato soup just in case. Looks like we might need them after all.” They laughed some more and Agatha found herself enjoying the night for the first time.
“I can assure you however that this is the only area in which she is found to be lacking.”
At this Agatha found she couldn’t read on, she couldn’t believe these things about herself so she couldn’t expect a group of strangers to believe them.
“I’ll just skip some of -“
“No you won’t,” said Ben taking the letter out of her hands.
“To give you an idea of how kind and pure she is I shall tell you a story of something she did when she was five. I took her into town to buy her some new shoes because her parents had forgotten and her toes were poking through the end. We went into the shop and spent some time looking at the various styles and choosing which colour we liked the best. Agatha couldn’t believe how lovely they were and kept touching each pair she tried on as though they were the magical glass slippers in Cinderella. Finally we agreed on a pair of red leather shoes with a buckle which made a small jingling sound as she walked. She loved them and didn’t want to wear them on the way home in case she ruined them. We carried them in the box and walked back to the bus stop. But on the way to the bus we came across a family who clearly had nothing. There was a mum, a dad and a little girl, perhaps slightly smaller than Agatha. Their clothes were threadbare and the little girl had smudges of soot on her face. Agatha looked at her feet and saw that her shoes were even worse than her own. She looked at me pleadingly and I knew that her intentions were the kindest and purest I had ever seen. I nodded at her and she shyly took the bag with the new red shoes in which jingled as she walked and handed it to the girl. She simply said “you can have these. I don’t need them,” and she gave her a hug. She took my hand and walked away, not glancing back or regretting for one moment that she had given them away. I have never been so proud in my whole life as I was in that moment.”
Ben finished reading the page and stopped. The room had an eerie hush about it, each thinking of the sacrifice that Agatha had made that day.
“Who wants shoes that jingle anyway, right?” said Agatha after while, trying to lighten the mood back to what it had been just a few moments earlier.
They all laughed again but everyone was beginning to look at each other differently. Something was shifting amongst them and it was good.
