For the next few days, I was stricken with embarrassment. All I kept saying to myself was.
"What had I done? What is wrong with me?"
The fact that it was my secret shame did nothing to alleviate it. If I tried, I could bury the memory and things could go back to normal. The trouble was, deep down, that was the last thing I wanted.
I did my best to keep my insecurities to myself. It was difficult whenever Gran was the subject of conversation.
Why would anyone suspect anything? It wasn't like I was walking around with a sign around my neck telling the world I was some kind of pervert. That didn't stop me from feeling sickly and nervous whenever she was mentioned.
In the ensuing weeks mum continued her barrage. So, I spent a lot of time with my guts tied up in knots.
Dad continued to roll his eyes and be as non committal as usual. Trying, and as usual, failing to change the topic of the conversation.
With Dad making it clear he was not interested, Mum looked to me as her ally.
She had asked me to pop around again, and we had ended up having words. I took inspiration from Dad's constant rebuttals. It wasn't what you would call an actual stand up row, but it was close.
She thought It was because I was tired of spying on Gran, and I was happy to let her believe that was the case. She kept on with her emotional blackmail, but I told her I was having none of it.
In fact, I was desperate to go and see her, but I was also repulsed by my own desires. There was no way I could see of broaching the subject with Gran, It was frustrating.
After a couple of weeks of veering between shame and desire and mulling it over in my head, I summoned up a little courage and told mum I would go around again the following Saturday. I couldn't tell you what made me relent. Just basic carnality, I guess.I could see a smile cross her lips, albeit briefly. She thought she had manipulated me into going. Little did she know.
Still, it would keep the peace if she thought she was getting her own way.
I was struck by how unalike Gran and mum were. They shared the same dirty blonde hair, although Mums' was longer, and always tied back. She was thinner and didn't have Grans bust. She wasn't plain but she was no ones idea of a stunner. It was her temperament that was ugly though. Manipulative and snarky. I don't think I ever saw her more happy than when someone we knew fell flat on their arse.
Deep down I was convinced that the reason she was so interested in Gran, was that she worried that she was somehow enjoying life. I never got the impression that mum was very happy with her own lot.
Not for the first time I wondered why Dad had married her, and now that I was of age, why he stuck around.
They had little in common. He was always going fishing and her chief hobby was interfering in the lives of others.
I also wondered if the constant fishing trips were a front, and he was having an affair. Good luck to him if he was.
I was committed to going now. The days running up to Saturday were awful. I was going to cancel, them I wasn't. Then I was. Back and forth, back and forth.
Despite going over it in my head a million times, that Saturday i knocked on the door in a state of utter panic, and with no clear plan in mind. I was lucky that the rare heat of the summer meant that I didn't look too suspicious as I stood on the doorstep, sweating and red faced.
Gran opened the door in a summer dress. Blue floral print with bare arms. I could see her bra straps, although I did my best not to make it obvious.
I was pleasantly surprised to see that her arms weren't too flabby.
"Kenny, you look knackered already." She said, with concern.
"This heat, it's killer." I replied.
I couldn't believe how nervous I was, doing something I had done countless times before. I tried my best to act as normally as I could and look at Gran in a completely no sexual way. It was difficult. Now I had seen her as a woman, and not family, I could not see her any other way.
She ushered me into the house, which was, as always, pleasantly cool.
"Well, there's no way you're doing any work today, my boy." She said. "You'll drop dead in this heat."
i went with her in the kitchen. She handed me an ice cold coke from the fridge and we sat opposite each other at the kitchen table.
"Thanks." I said, taking a grateful sip.
At this close distance between us, I was engulfed by her scent. Floral and sweet.
She smelled good, which made me feel even more uncomfortable.
I waited a few moments, as I fought to regain my composure, before asking her a question.
"Are you sure you don't want me to do the garden? It's the reason i'm here."
"And all this time, I thought you were coming to see me." She replied.
There was a millisecond before she started laughing. A millisecond where my stomach lurched in guilt.
"Although, from what your mother says, you didn't want to come here today."
I had noticed that it was always "your mother". It was never my daughter or "Evelyn".
"That's actually true." I said. "But, probably not for the reasons you think."
"Oh?" said Gran, in a way which lead me to believe she had thought about it.
Was that possible?
"I'm getting sick of mum sending me round here on some sort of spying mission."
She did not reply. so I carried on.
"She's convinced you're up to no good and wants me to figure out what you're up to. You know what she's like."
She nodded slowly. Acknowledging the truth of my statement.
"To be frank Gran, I didn't care. Whatever you may or may not be doing is your business. It's certainly not mine and it's especially none of hers. I don't want to be put in a position like that."
For the first time in ages, Gran spoke. It was calm and measured.
"What does she think is going on?"
"I'm not exactly sure and that's what's driving her insane."
I could see Gran physically relax in that way someone who thought they were about to be found out, only to realise they had got away with it, could do.
"To tell you Gods honest truth. I wouldn't tell her anyway."
"There is nothing going on." Gran said calmly.
A little too calmly. Just like me, she was also playing word games here.
"You tell mum that." I said, "She won't have it."
"I have, countless times." She replied patiently.
"I know. I believe it, she just gets something in her brain and off she goes. She's like a dog with a bone and it pisses me off."
"Kenny!" Gran said. Although I couldn't tell if it was the language or my disparaging of my own mother that brought that response.
"Sorry. But, you know i'm right."
"She's difficult, but she is you're mother Kenny."
I cocked my head slightly. Gran took this, quite rightly, to indicate that I wasn't happy about that.
"Kenny!" She said. "That's not nice."
I nodded.
"Neither is sending me round here to spy on you."
Gran thought about it for a moment or two.
"Have you?" She asked.
"Have I what?"
"Have you been spying on me?"
"NO!" I exclaimed. "Well, yes. No, not really, no."
She studied my face carefully. Her expression was clearly saying to me. "Well, my boy. Which one is it?"
"She just asked me to keep an eye out, you know?" I said.
"And report back?" Gran prompted.
I nodded again.
"As i said, if I had caught you red handed at something, I wouldn't have told her."
There was a silence that I felt I needed to fill.
"I don't think she has any idea, as such. She's just seen a change in you and she can't explain it. I have to say I think it's because she doesn't like it."
"Why do you say that?" Gran said. I felt like I was being interrogated.
"She's jealous." I said.
Gran began to laugh.
"What has she got to be jealous of? She's got 25 years and three stone on me." She said, tapping her stomach.
I shook my head.
"I don't know Gran. Who can say what makes people tick...I guess the question should be. What are we going to do about it?"
"We?" Said Gran.
"Well, this involves me too." I said imploringly. "I don't want her messing up our relationship."
Gran reached across the table, taking my hand. I felt a frisson of a thrill at our contact.
"Nothing will cause that."
I noticed she didn't let go, even as I said...
"Can you be so sure of that?"
"Of course"
Her hand gripped me tighter, I assumed she was trying to reassure me further.
This was the point where youthful exuberance and arrogance got the better of me, I'm afraid.
"Even if I say you do have a secret and I know what it is, Gran."
With that, she did let go. Both of us drew our hands back across the table. Gran placed hers in her lap. Mine were tapping nervously on the wooden table.
I realized now, that I had severely overplayed my hand. I was caught now and there was no way out.
She was looking at me, expectant. Silently demanding an explanation.
I had intended to state my case, clearly and succinctly. Unfortunately I lost my composure and began to just ramble.
"I was here a few weeks ago, and I needed to pop into the house to use the toilet and you didn't know I was here, and as I was on the stairs I heard you on the phone, I didn't mean to. I wasn't spying. Honestly you have to believe that. Well, as I say, I heard you I could not not hear you if you'll see what I mean."
This had all come out in one long unbroken sentence. I only stopped talking when I ran out of breath.
"You work on a chat line. Sorry Gran, I heard you."
I managed to spit out, once I had taken a breath.
There was a slight tension in her voice as she replied.
"Heard what?"
Was she scared? I knew I bloody well was.
"Listen." I said "I know what you doing. It's not anything you should be ashamed of."
Instantly, I could see I said the wrong thing. She wasn't scared, she was bristling with barely concealed rage.
"Heard what?" She repeated.
There was an angry tone to her voice that I'd seldom heard.
"I heard you on the phone to men, calling yourself Bunty."
