The Things We Leave Behind by Clare Furniss

Author:Clare Furniss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK
Published: 2024-03-14T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

It was only as I opened the door to Grandpa’s that I realized I should have bought cleaning stuff and cloths. I felt stupid, like a kid playing at being a grown-up.

‘I’m back,’ I called. There was no reply. I walked through to the kitchen to put the kettle on and stifled a scream, dropping the carton of milk on the floor where it burst open.

Standing at the sink was a huge man with his back to me and headphones on singing along to Britney Spears. He spun round, surprisingly quick for someone so big.

‘Who the bloody hell are you?’ he said.

He really was massive, the same size and shape as Kris, the bouncer Mischa’s mum dated for a while (Like a wall made out of human flesh, Mischa told me after she met him, unimpressed). The intruder was in his late twenties, I’d guess, with a buzz cut, fair eyelashes and pale blue eyes. His pinkish skin was covered in tattoos. His nose looked like it had been broken many times. I’d probably have been more scared if he hadn’t been wearing Granny’s pink washing-up gloves and the apron she’d won in a raffle years ago at the village fete that said I RUN ON LOVE, LAUGHTER AND PROSECCO!

‘Who the bloody hell am I? Who the bloody hell are you?’ He put his rubber-gloved hands on his hips. ‘I’m the carer of the gentleman who lives here, thanks very much.’ He had a strong accent, Liverpool maybe. Definitely not from the village anyway. ‘Now, your turn.’

‘You don’t exactly look like a carer.’

‘Is that right? And what exactly does a carer look like, in your opinion, eh?’

He watched me, unblinking, his muscly, tattooed arms folded. I realized this was a fair question. I also realized it was highly unlikely an intruder would have broken into Grandpa’s house to do the washing-up.

‘I didn’t even know he had a carer,’ I faltered.

‘Well, now you do. But you still haven’t told me who you are.’

‘I’m his granddaughter,’ I said. ‘Clem. I’ve come to stay for a bit.’

The suspicion disappeared from the man’s face.

‘Clem! You’ve grown so much I didn’t recognize you.’

I looked at him in surprise.

‘I saw you at Nancy’s funeral but never got a chance to speak to you. You look so much older.’

I remembered the painful blur of Granny’s funeral. Then I remembered Grandpa asking where she was this morning and the sick panicky feeling returned.

‘I’m Shaun by the way,’ he said.

‘Oh! Of course. Someone in the village mentioned you.’

‘I bet they did.’ He said it in a way that made me think he guessed it hadn’t exactly been complimentary. ‘But what are you doing here? I had no idea you were coming.’

I explained. His expression changed.

‘Oh, Clem, love,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’ And he came over and hugged me. Normally I’m pretty strict about who I’m prepared to be hugged by (Mischa says it’s my worst trait and blames it on the fact that there’s a lot

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