Inside Grandad by Peter Dickinson Read Free Book Online Page B

Grandad, but it still felt amazing that they didn't. He e-mailed them back, telling them, and asking them to keep writing, and printed their letters out to read to Grandad the next day.
    Next morning while Gavin was making his sandwiches for lunch Mum said, "Gran's found somebody to drive you into Aberdeen after school. He actually works in the hospital, and he's going to call in at my office on his way past and I'll come up with him and make sure you meet up. I've got to say I'm still not entirely happy about this—I mean, it's not as if it's someone we know…."
    "I bet you Gran knows more about him than his own mum does. Like Don says, it's a good thing she never went in for blackmail."
    Mum laughed but shook her head.
    "I'm afraid you can't ever tell," she said. "Men you'd've thought were absolutely safe …"
    "I'll be really careful, Mum. And I'll tell you if anything at all funny happens. Promise."
    "That's what I was going to ask you. All right. Now, they don't want kids wandering all over the hospital unattended, but I've talked to the ward sister, and she's going to leave a message with reception to let you go up. Her name's Sister Taylor, if there's any problems."
    (That was typical Mum. Knowing how the system worked, thinking it all out and knowing what to do.)
    "Thanks, Mum. That's great. It's what I really wanted."
    "Yes, I know, darling," she said, turning away. It was the way she did it, more than anything in her voice, that told him. She didn't want him to see her face, because that would have told him that since she'd talked to Donald she was beginning to worry about him hoping too much. (That was typical Mum too.) Perhaps Donald had told her stuff he hadn't told Gavin, or perhaps she was just worrying because she was like that, worrying about how much he'd mind if Grandad didn't get better, and the more he hoped and hoped the more he'd mind. She was right, of course, but it wasn't going to be like that. It absolutely wasn't.
    Robert was a tall, thin man with sunken cheeks and bushy black eyebrows. His big, bony fingers were yellow with tobacco, and his noisy little Datsun reeked of smoke, though he had the windows down, and Mum must have spoken to himabout not smoking because he kept one a bit open all the way to Aberdeen. He drove almost as fast as Donald and didn't talk at all. He took Gavin up to the hospital entrance and waited for him to get out.
    "Thank you very much," said Gavin as he opened the door. "That's wonderful."
    "Glad to help," said Robert. "Same time tomorrow?"
    "Yes, please, if that's all right."
    Robert nodded, waited for Gavin to get out, and reached a long arm across to close the door. Standing at the entrance to let a wheelchair out, Gavin looked back and saw that he hadn't driven off but was finishing lighting a cigarette.
    Mum's arrangements worked. The woman in reception knew about him, and let him sign in and gave him a pass saying he was going up to the stroke unit. When he got to the ward there was a woman he hadn't seen before standing by Grandad's bed. He waited in the doorway, watching, not sure whether to go on in. She was gray haired but not all that old, with a soft, rather anxious-looking face. She was wearing the usual hospital overall, so she wasn't a nurse, but she didn't look quite like a doctor either. She seemed to be doing something with Grandad's right arm—the one that had kept fidgeting about—bending the forearm slowly up, saying a few words, waiting, and then laying the arm back down on the bed. Another few words, and wait, and she started to do it again, but this time she happened to glance up and saw Gavin in the doorway. She smiled again, finished the process, and came over.
    "You're Gavin," she said. "I'm Lena. I'm the physio. I was talking to your brother about you this morning. Hi."
    "Oh, hello," said Gavin. "Do you want me to go and wait outside till you've finished?"
    Lena almost laughed.
    "No, of course not," she said. "I want to talk to you. Your