A Fresh Brew by Cathy Bramley

Author:Cathy Bramley [Bramley, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2017-06-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

It was Saturday. Stanley had been home for twenty-four hours and Nonna was moving in properly today. I arrived at his bungalow after work with a chunk of Stanley’s favourite chocolate cake and some biscotti for Nonna as Dad was unloading some of her things from the boot of his car.

‘Honestly,’ he said, shaking his head as he pulled out a box marked ‘empty jars’, ‘women.’

‘On behalf of women everywhere,’ I said, kissing his grumpy face, ‘I apologize.’

I left him grunting to himself and went inside.

The bungalow already seemed a brighter place: there was a vase of tulips and hyacinths in the hall, replacing the faded fake flowers I’d seen on my last visit. The air smelled fresh and there was something delicious wafting from the kitchen.

I found Stanley in the living room on a recliner chair, two brown slippers peeping out from under a blanket. His face looked a little pale and he’d lost quite a bit of weight, but his blue eyes still held a sparkle.

‘Welcome to Antarctica,’ he said, holding up his cheek to be kissed.

The window was open and a fresh breeze ruffled his white hair which hung round the back of his head from ear to ear like bunting.

‘Shall I close that?’ I asked, shivering as I sat on the sofa next to him.

He shook his head and pulled the blanket under his chin. ‘I need fresh air, apparently. Amongst other unpleasant things. Normally I like air. In moderation.’

‘And cake?’ I said, lifting the lid of my cake tin.

‘Cake,’ he said, eyeing the contents greedily, ‘is contraband. Quick, let me hide it.’

He held his hands out for the tin just as Nonna opened the door by pushing her bottom through it. He shoved the tin back at me.

‘Your grandmother’s derrière always arrives first.’ He winked. ‘Not that I’m complaining.’

‘Eh, cheeky. Green tea,’ she said officiously, planting the tray on the coffee table. ‘Full of anti-somethings. Good for heart. And some biscuits. But not for you, mister.’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘You can have tablets.’

I attempted to hide the tin behind my back but she held her hands out.

‘He can’t eat this. It is poison.’ She lifted the lid and sniffed. ‘Mmm, but you can leave with me.’

Stanley and I exchanged resigned smiles.

She straightened up, pressed a hand to his forehead and frowned.

‘You look tired, Stanley. Rosie, just five minutes. He need plenty of rest.’

Nonna was wearing an apron with a bib and she’d got a watch tied on to the front straps. She looked scary and nurse-like and she was obviously really enjoying herself.

‘OK, I only popped in to check everyone was getting on all right,’ I said.

Dad shouted something from the hallway and Nonna went out to answer him, the cake tin gripped firmly in her hands.

‘Couldn’t be happier, my dear.’ Stanley sniffed his green tea and took a brave sip. ‘I shan’t want to get better at this rate in case she moves out. It was so nice last night to say goodnight to someone.

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