Granny’s Brief HappinessThe warmth of that single slice of cake lingered on her tongue long after the children had packed their bags and waved goodbye from the taxi.

Lily stood behind the kitchen door, straining to catch every word of her parents’ conversation. It was about her—or rather, about her and Simon.

Talk of the wedding had been going on for months. The young couple had been together for three years, deeply in love. The wedding itself was a given; the real question was where they would live afterwards. Both families were comfortably off without being wealthy, living in standard two-bedroom flats.

Neither Lily nor Simon wanted to move in with their parents, and their parents agreed that a marriage needed its own space. Lily still had a year of university left; Simon was already working, but if they rented a place, half his salary would go on the rent. Of course the parents would help out, but Lily thought why put everyone under pressure when they could simply wait a year until she started earning? But Simon didn’t want to wait—he was ready to rent somewhere, just to be with her.

Lily had a grandmother who lived in her own flat. She was eighty-two, but you couldn’t call her old. She looked after herself, was sharp as a tack, and needed no help. She had her share of chronic ailments—bad joints, walking with a stick, a weak heart, poor eyesight.

It was about her grandmother’s flat that the parents were now talking.

“The only solution I can see is for us to take Mum in and give her flat to Lily and Simon,” insisted her mother.

“You’ve always said your mother has a difficult nature. Will you get on with her? And we don’t know if she’ll agree to move,” her father said doubtfully.

“My mother adores Lily—she’ll agree,” her mother declared confidently.

“She’s your mother, so it’s your call,” her father said thoughtfully.

“What’s there to decide? She’s old, she’s ill… She’d be better off with us. And if we can’t get on, we can put her in a care home. What? A friend of mine put her mother in one and she couldn’t be happier. The conditions are decent—a private room, regular meals, doctors nearby, walks in a lovely garden,” her mother said enthusiastically.

“Well… I don’t know,” her father said slowly. “What would people say? That we got rid of her? Maybe we should just postpone the wedding. It wouldn’t be right.”

Lily didn’t like the sound of this at all. The chair legs scraped on the tile floor, and she tiptoed back to her room. Her mother’s suggestion about the care home wouldn’t leave her mind. She loved her grandmother, often visiting and staying overnight. Now it seemed Lily was pushing her out of her own flat? Her father was right—you couldn’t do that.

Lily felt like a traitor. She decided to talk to Simon again.

“I agree with you. Why think about it at all? Let Gran stay in her flat, and we’ll rent. We’ll manage. But we’re not putting the wedding off.” Simon hugged and kissed her. “I’ll ask my dad for some extra work on a building site. In a year you’ll be working. I don’t see any problem at all.”

The question remained open.

The next day Lily went to her grandmother’s. The flat was a mess—boxes everywhere, clothes piled on the floor.

“Gran, are you sorting through your things or looking for something?” Lily asked, looking around the room.

“Getting rid of all the clutter. Come in. You’ve come just in time to help. I’ve decided to move into a care home. I’ve already called—they told me what documents I need…”

“Did Mum talk you into this?” Lily demanded indignantly.

“No, I did it myself. Your mother wants me to live with her, but I don’t want to. I sleep badly, wander around the flat at night, I snore. So I’ve decided on a care home. I’m not getting any younger, and there they’ll feed me, give me injections if needed. It’s my own decision.”

“No, Gran, I’m against it. Simon will rent a flat—you don’t have to move anywhere,” Lily protested again.

“I’m not doing it because of you. I decided it myself. Look, I’m going through my things, seeing what to take and what to throw out. I’ve accumulated so much junk you can’t breathe. Get the boxes down from the top cupboard—let’s see what’s in them. I can’t reach them myself.”

Lily pulled a chair up to the wardrobe, climbed onto it, and took down the boxes. Her grandmother opened one and pulled out a trinket box.

“Look at that—I’ve been searching for this for ages. It’s yours.” She handed the box to her granddaughter. Inside were modest pieces of jewellery: gold and silver rings, beads, brooches. Lily sorted through them, immediately trying on a pair of silver earrings.

“And whose is this?” She pulled out a thin wedding ring.

“Mine,” her grandmother said, her gaze lingering on it.

“But yours is on your finger,” Lily noticed.

“And this is mine too.” Her grandmother took the ring from Lily.

“Gran, you always taught me that lying is wrong. What secrets are you keeping from me?” Lily was hurt.

“I’m not lying, but there are things better left unsaid.”

“Why? Is there something special about that ring? Tell me,” the girl insisted.

“There’s nothing to tell,” her grandmother said, pursing her lips. “What’s in the other boxes?”

Lily opened a shoebox. Inside were yellowed letters, documents, and old photographs.

“Gran, who’s this?” Lily examined a poor-quality photo of a young man in military uniform.

Her grandmother took the photo. Her fingers trembled slightly.

“Gran, are you all right?” Lily asked worriedly.

“That’s your grandfather,” her grandmother said suddenly.

“What? He doesn’t look like Grandad at all.”

“He’s your real grandfather,” her grandmother repeated firmly. “I knew one day it would all come out. Secrets don’t last forever. I’ll tell you, but only if you promise to keep silent and tell no one—not even your Simon, and especially not your mother.”

“You’ve got me intrigued. I love secrets. I promise I won’t breathe a word.” Lily pinched her fingers together and drew them across her mouth as if zipping it shut. But catching her grandmother’s reproachful look, she stopped and became serious.

“Not a single soul,” her grandmother repeated.

After a short pause, she began her story.

“When I was young, I was beautiful—like you.”

“You’re still not bad,” Lily said quickly.

“Don’t interrupt. ‘Not bad’ indeed. We lived in a village. There were three of us children at home with our mother. My elder sister was already married, living in the next village. I was the middle one, and I had a younger brother.

I was seventeen then, and my brother was eleven. After the war, there were still many shells and mines left in the ground. When the Germans retreated, they booby-trapped fields and roads. My brother and his friends used to scour the fields for cartridges, guns, all sorts of war souvenirs. One day he stepped on a mine and was blown up.

The army came to clear the field. One soldier, very handsome, came to see my mother and me. The moment I saw him, I fell in love. Then they left. I thought I’d never see him again. But a month later he came back. For me. Mother didn’t want to let me go with him, but I persuaded her.

He took me to the town where his unit was stationed. We got married right away. We lived in his tiny room in the barracks. The bedsprings squeaked terribly. We were so happy then. I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved him…” Her grandmother’s eyes grew distant, as if she were back in that barracks, in her past. Lily waited, not interrupting or hurrying her.

“James—he was called James—was given a week’s leave, and we went to the seaside. He had an aunt who lived there. Her house was right on the coast. I could spend hours looking at the endless sea, listening to the waves. But our happiness was too short.

We came back to the barracks, and two days later James left again to clear another area. He had a friend, Stephen. Stephen brought me the terrible news—James had been blown up. There was nothing left to bury.

I lay in a fever for a week. I wanted to go back to my mother’s village, but then I realised I was expecting a child. I couldn’t stay in the barracks either. Where could I go? That’s when Stephen proposed. He was very fond of me. He said I could stay in the barracks, it would be easier with him, and the child needed a father. But I couldn’t—I loved James. I told Stephen honestly that I would probably never love him. But he wouldn’t give up; he said the marriage was just a formality.

So I married Stephen. To everyone we were husband and wife, but he slept in his own room. Then I gave birth to your mother. He put his name on her birth certificate, loved her, raised her as his own. Eventually we did become husband and wife in every sense, but we never had children of our own together. I was faithful to Stephen, but I never learned to love him. I think James wouldn’t hold it against me.” Her grandmother fell silent.

“I still remember the smell of the sea. We never went back there. Stephen said we’d go when he retired. But he died a year later.” Her grandmother sighed.

The story stayed with Lily.

“Simon, let’s take Gran to the seaside—to Cornwall,” she said to her fiancé.

“Lily, we’re stretched as it is. We’ve saved for the wedding. Cornwall? It’s peak season, prices are sky-high.”

“We don’t have to stay in a fancy hotel—just go to the beach.”

“Gran wouldn’t survive the journey. And what would we do with her there? I want to be with you, just the two of us,” Simon insisted.

“I’ll go with her alone if you won’t. If she moves into a care home, she’ll never see the sea again.”

They argued. Lily decided to buy plane tickets. The train was long and tiring, and seats were hard to get. Her grandmother had never flown, but she wasn’t scared—she said at her age it was silly to be afraid of anything. She endured the flight well.

No sooner had they checked into the guesthouse than Gran wanted to go to the beach.

“Gran, shouldn’t we rest after the journey?” Lily worried.

“I’m not tired. We’re only here for a week—I can rest at home.”

Her grandmother stood on the shore in a long floral dress and a straw hat, gazing at the sea. Her eyes grew distant again. She seemed to straighten up, to look younger. Lily didn’t disturb her, stepping aside. What her grandmother saw—or if she saw anything, or just remembered—Lily didn’t know.

“Gran, shall we go?” Lily finally touched her arm.

Her grandmother returned from the past and smiled at her granddaughter.

The next morning after breakfast they went to the beach again. Lily sunbathed and swam, while Gran sat under a parasol, watching the sea. On the third morning Lily woke up and couldn’t find her grandmother. She asked at the desk.

“The elderly lady went to the beach,” the receptionist said.

Lily found her on the shore.

“Gran, why didn’t you wait for me?” Lily asked, a little hurt.

“I dreamed of James last night. All these years I’ve never dreamed of him, and now… I felt he was here too. I wanted to be alone with him. Thank you for bringing me here.” Tears glistened in her grandmother’s eyes.

“Hello,” said a voice beside them, and Lily saw Simon.

“You?”

“Yes. I decided to come. I’m sorry—I was wrong. I can’t be without you.”

They walked back to the guesthouse together, the three of them.

“Gran doesn’t have to go into a care home,” Simon said one evening. “I agree to wait a year.”

“I doubt she’ll change her mind.” Lily had missed Simon during those few days, and she no longer wanted to delay the wedding either.

“I’ll talk her round,” Simon promised.

And he did. True, Gran set a condition—that Lily and Simon come and live with her. But Simon even managed to talk her out of that.

“We’re young, noisy—we’d only be a bother. But I promise we’ll visit often, every day if you like—we’ll probably get on your nerves.”

The wedding took place at the end of August. Lily and Simon visited Gran regularly, especially since their rented flat was nearby. Every time they came, Gran prepared something delicious and waited, almost holding her breath, for Simon to taste it. He never held back his compliments, and Gran would blush like a girl, pleased.

They had a special bond, Gran and Simon. Maybe because of his name, or maybe they just took a liking to each other.

Lily kept her grandmother’s secret—she never told a soul, not even Simon.

The following year they planned to go to the seaside again, all three of them.