Happy Birthday and All That by Rebecca Smith

when they came in.
    Dear God. He hadn’t been put on the earth for this.
    Grandpa dwelt alone in the flat above ‘Fancy Ways’. His flat was used by the family as an overflow stockroom, and his views of Portswood High Street were sometimes partially obscured by boxes of ornaments, out-of-use display units, stacks of wrapping paper and out-of-season cards. This wasn’t enough to spoil his enjoyment though, there was always something going on, some drama unfolding for him to watch - a pedestrian pensioner vs. student riding on the pavement road-rage incident, a delivery at Peacocks, a shop having a new awning fitted, the endless roadworks, the semi-derelicts on the bench near the library, the traffic wardens hard at work with their ticket books - always something to cheer him up.
    Frank left a note for Posy, ‘Gone to help Grandpa with something.’ Perhaps that would make her appreciate him a bit more. He could, unfortunately, be down at the shop in less than fifteen minutes.
    He managed to delay himself a little by going into Portswood Hardware, one of his favourite shops. He knew that they needed lots of things - there were endless projects and fixings of things that Posy wanted him to do - but now that he was here his mind went blank.
    â€˜Looking for something?’ the kindly man in grey overalls asked him.
    â€˜This and that,’ Frank said. And a length of hosepipe long enough to reach from the exhaust of an E-reg Volvo estate through the driver’s window, and if there are any special clips for attaching it securely, and if you have any maps of the New Forest showing pretty but deserted parking places … What was it that Grandpa had wanted? Frank supposed that he should be grateful that they didn’t have a garage. Imagine the constant temptation to top oneself in there. To park inside and let it fill up with fumes, or to hang oneself from the up and over door …
    â€˜Have you got one of those stupid metal things that old people have in their sinks to catch disgusting gunk?’
    â€˜Sinkmate? Just to your left. Eighty-three pence.’
    â€˜Thanks, mate.’
    Frank smiled as he remembered a joke that he’d read in James’s
Best Joke Book In The World Ever.
‘Did you hear about the ice-cream man found dead in his van, covered in nuts and strawberry sauce? The police think he topped himself.’ Posy had said that she thought it was very unsuitable.
    Fancy Ways was just along the road.
    â€˜Francis!’ His mum looked really pleased to see him. ‘How are you all? We haven’t seen you for ages.’
    â€˜Mum, you saw us all last week!’
    â€˜Last week is ages when you only live a few minutes away,’ she told him.
    â€˜Well, I’m here now.’ She could manage to make him feel guilty within seconds of walking through the door, it got him every time. ‘How’s Dad?’
    â€˜Oh not so bad. He was out of breath badly from moving all the new glass pierrots. They are much heavier than they look.’
    â€˜You should have waited for me. I’d have done it for you,’ Frank told her, thinking, ‘Send in the clowns, there ought to be clowns. Don’t bother, they’re here.’
    â€˜How can I wait for you if I never know when you might be coming?’ He couldn’t think of an answer to this.
    â€˜Grandpa phoned me,’ he told her. ‘He wants some help with something.’ He hoped that this might win him a few more points, get him off the hook a bit. Luckily a customer came towards the counter with a paperweight and a gift box. ‘I’ll just go up and see how he is.’ Frank skedaddled for the stairs behind the ‘Staff Only’ door.
    He knocked on his grandfather’s flat door and went straight in. He could hear the TV. Grandpa was watching
Trisha.
    â€˜She’s pretty, this one,’ he told Frank.
    â€˜Hi Grandpa, you OK?’ Frank didn’t bend down