Where There's A Will

Chapter Nine

Stone waited for the dimly lit couple to move out of the way, and then he pulled off the road into the drive. He stopped in front of the garage, under the glow of the security light he had had installed, and got out. As he made his way up to the front door, he saw his grandmother peering out from behind the living room curtains to see who was there. He gave her a wave, but it was a few moments before recognition dawned and she returned it; she disappeared then, he assumed so she could answer the door to him.

"Evening, gran," he said when the door opened. He was surprised, and disturbed, by her appearance – she seemed to have shrunk since the last time he saw her; she had always been small, but now she was so slight there seemed nothing of her. The sight of her, looking diminished and sickly, made him feel even more guilty about his failure to visit regularly and make sure that she was alright.

"Nathan, what's up?" Barbra Stone asked, her voice betraying how unexpected his visit was.

"Nothing, gran." Stone was a little hurt that she thought something had to be up for him to visit, though he couldn't blame her for thinking like that, given he had often only found the time to visit when there was something going on. "I just wanted to see you. It's been a while."

"Well, you had better come in." Barbra stepped back.

Stone loosened his tie as he seated himself on the sofa and ran his eyes over his grandmother. Not only was she more slight than he remembered, she moved more slowly, and seemed to have difficulty with her breathing. The effort of crossing the living room exhausted her, and he worried that she was going to collapse before she got there.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a voice filled with worry.

"Yes," Barbra dismissed his concern. "For someone my age, I'm as well as can be expected."

Stone looked dubious, but knew it would do him no good to press her for another answer, she wasn't the sort to complain, no matter how bad things were.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked.

"Thanks, I'll make it, though," Stone said, getting to his feet quickly before she could. "One for you as well?"

When she nodded, Stone collected his gran's cup from the table at the side of her chair. As he did, he saw the plastic tray that held more than half a dozen pills in a variety of colours - the sight worried him; he was sure his gran had only been taking one or two pills the last time he saw her. Since he knew his gran wouldn't tell him what was up if he asked, he looked through the items pinned to the cork noticeboard he had put up in the kitchen when he got there.

In one corner of the board was a collection of bills, he flicked through them, and was relieved to see that none were outstanding. The opposite corner held prescriptions, repeat prescriptions to be put in every month he saw; his gran was taking fourteen pills a day – that came as a shock to him, and left him certain something was wrong with his grandmother. The noise from the kettle rose as the water approached boiling point, he ignored it, though, as he continued to check the board, stopping when he found a letter from the hospital.

He took the letter down and read it slowly, a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. His fingers trembled as he returned the letter to the board and took out his phone. "Call me as soon as you get this," he said, hoping that his sister would check her voicemails soon.

That call made, he put his phone away and washed his grandmother's cup and saucer before finding a mug for himself so he could make the tea.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asked as he gave his grandmother her cup.

"No, thank you. I'll have a few biscuits before I go to bed. I don't eat much these days."

Stone was tempted to admonish her about her eating, but there was something more important he needed to talk to her about. "I saw the letter from the hospital," he said. "Why didn't you call and tell me you've got cancer?" Reading the diagnosis in the letter had been like a blow to the stomach.

Barbra's eyes rested on her grandson for several long seconds before she spoke. "I didn't want to trouble you, you have so much to deal with already. Your family, little Robert's condition, and your job - I saw in the paper about the armed robbery you're investigating. How is Robert? Is he managing school okay with his condition?"

Stone recognised the diversion for what it was, but still answered the questions. "Robert is fine now, he had the operation I told you about last time I was here, and now he's as fit and healthy as any other seven-year-old. It took him a bit of time to get over it, but now the hole in his heart's been fixed, he's been running Melissa ragged. I think he's making up for lost time."

"That's good to hear. You both must be relieved not to have that worry hanging over your heads anymore."

Stone nodded. "I'll get Melissa to bring Robert and little Isobel over at the weekend. You'll be amazed at the difference in Robert since you last saw him. If I can get my investigation finished by then, we'll make a day of it." He returned the conversation to where he wanted it then. "You still should have told me about the cancer. Melissa and I could have made more of an effort to come round and help you out; we should have."

"I've been managing," Barbra told him, though the effort it was for her to breathe gave the lie to that." April checks on me whenever she's home, and she's arranged for one of those home helpers to come in every other day."

"You shouldn't have to just manage," Stone told her guiltily.