course, but if you want to, then you can. Okay?’
Flora cupped her mug between her palms. ‘Okay. I just didn’t want to be at home...’ She sipped at her drink, using it as a prop to avoid further explanation.
‘Well, I’m glad you thought of coming to me. You look lovely, a bit skinny, but lovely.’
Flora looked up at her gran through her thick lashes. ‘Do you ever wish, Gr— Bea, that you could rewind or fast-forward time?’
Bea stared at her granddaughter who was about to dive into life. An image filled her head from her own youth, when she was just a few years older than Flora: a narrow bed in a locked room, a plastic bowl in which to pee and a cold fear that hovered in her chest at what would happen when her time came. I’d go back to then, I’d find him. I’d be stronger! I’d run as fast as I could around the world and I would cling to him and we would grow old side by side. Bea sighed, knowing she would have done no such thing. She had had to let him go, and she did.
‘I guess we all do,’ she said quietly. ‘When would you go back to?’
Flora looked up at the photos on the wall and swished her long hair over her shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t go backwards. I’d fast-forward.’
‘To when?’
‘To when I’m older and I have my own money in the bank and I can get my own apartment and do what I want.’ She jutted her chin.
‘Oh! And what is it you’d want to do in your own apartment?’ Bea asked nervously.
Flora considered this. ‘I’d stay up late and go to bed whenever I wanted. I’d never eat any vegetables. I’d have a hot tub in my bedroom and put 5 Seconds of Summer posters over all the walls instead of wallpaper! Oh, and I’d get a dog.’
‘Really? A dog?’ Bea was touched by the innocence of her response. ‘What kind of dog?’
‘A French bulldog – they are so cute! And you can take them for walks or they just sit on your lap and watch TV with you. They’re perfect.’
Bea watched as Flora’s face lit up. ‘They sound it.’
‘And I think if you have a good dog, it’s like having a best friend, isn’t it?’ The smile slipped from Flora’s face.
‘I guess it is.’ Bea wondered if they were getting closer to the heart of the problem.
Flora picked at a thread on her cut-offs. ‘I sometimes feel like I’m the only person in the world that feels like me, like there’s this huge club of people that all know what’s going on and I’m the only one that doesn’t. Like I’m on my own.’ And just like that her tears threatened again.
Bea squeezed her granddaughter’s hand. ‘You are not on your own, Flora. You are loved and if I can help fix things in any way, you know I will.’ It was as close as she could come to prying.
‘Thanks. I don’t think anyone can fix things.’ Flora blinked away her tears.
There was a second or two of awkward silence. ‘Are you any good with computers?’ Bea eventually asked.
‘I guess.’ She shrugged. ‘Not bad.’
Bea stared at her. ‘Do you know how to send an email and things?’
Flora threw her head back against the sofa and giggled loudly, reminding Bea of the thirteen-year-old girl she was. ‘Gr— Bea! Who doesn’t know how to send an email?’
‘Well, me for starters! It’s not that funny! I hardly even saw a computer until I was in my forties and Pappy used to look after everything electronic. I’ve been muddling through trying to teach myself, but I don’t really know how to close anything down. I’m worried that if I press the wrong button, I’ll delete everything.’
‘It’s quite hard to delete everything . Where’s your laptop?’ Flora sat forward on the sofa, flicked her hair over her shoulder and cracked her knuckles.
Bea retrieved the laptop from the kitchen and handed it to her granddaughter, who flipped the screen up and let her fingers dance competently over the keyboard before howling again. ‘You’ve got like a million things open!’ Flora shook her head, and looked
Flora cupped her mug between her palms. ‘Okay. I just didn’t want to be at home...’ She sipped at her drink, using it as a prop to avoid further explanation.
‘Well, I’m glad you thought of coming to me. You look lovely, a bit skinny, but lovely.’
Flora looked up at her gran through her thick lashes. ‘Do you ever wish, Gr— Bea, that you could rewind or fast-forward time?’
Bea stared at her granddaughter who was about to dive into life. An image filled her head from her own youth, when she was just a few years older than Flora: a narrow bed in a locked room, a plastic bowl in which to pee and a cold fear that hovered in her chest at what would happen when her time came. I’d go back to then, I’d find him. I’d be stronger! I’d run as fast as I could around the world and I would cling to him and we would grow old side by side. Bea sighed, knowing she would have done no such thing. She had had to let him go, and she did.
‘I guess we all do,’ she said quietly. ‘When would you go back to?’
Flora looked up at the photos on the wall and swished her long hair over her shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t go backwards. I’d fast-forward.’
‘To when?’
‘To when I’m older and I have my own money in the bank and I can get my own apartment and do what I want.’ She jutted her chin.
‘Oh! And what is it you’d want to do in your own apartment?’ Bea asked nervously.
Flora considered this. ‘I’d stay up late and go to bed whenever I wanted. I’d never eat any vegetables. I’d have a hot tub in my bedroom and put 5 Seconds of Summer posters over all the walls instead of wallpaper! Oh, and I’d get a dog.’
‘Really? A dog?’ Bea was touched by the innocence of her response. ‘What kind of dog?’
‘A French bulldog – they are so cute! And you can take them for walks or they just sit on your lap and watch TV with you. They’re perfect.’
Bea watched as Flora’s face lit up. ‘They sound it.’
‘And I think if you have a good dog, it’s like having a best friend, isn’t it?’ The smile slipped from Flora’s face.
‘I guess it is.’ Bea wondered if they were getting closer to the heart of the problem.
Flora picked at a thread on her cut-offs. ‘I sometimes feel like I’m the only person in the world that feels like me, like there’s this huge club of people that all know what’s going on and I’m the only one that doesn’t. Like I’m on my own.’ And just like that her tears threatened again.
Bea squeezed her granddaughter’s hand. ‘You are not on your own, Flora. You are loved and if I can help fix things in any way, you know I will.’ It was as close as she could come to prying.
‘Thanks. I don’t think anyone can fix things.’ Flora blinked away her tears.
There was a second or two of awkward silence. ‘Are you any good with computers?’ Bea eventually asked.
‘I guess.’ She shrugged. ‘Not bad.’
Bea stared at her. ‘Do you know how to send an email and things?’
Flora threw her head back against the sofa and giggled loudly, reminding Bea of the thirteen-year-old girl she was. ‘Gr— Bea! Who doesn’t know how to send an email?’
‘Well, me for starters! It’s not that funny! I hardly even saw a computer until I was in my forties and Pappy used to look after everything electronic. I’ve been muddling through trying to teach myself, but I don’t really know how to close anything down. I’m worried that if I press the wrong button, I’ll delete everything.’
‘It’s quite hard to delete everything . Where’s your laptop?’ Flora sat forward on the sofa, flicked her hair over her shoulder and cracked her knuckles.
Bea retrieved the laptop from the kitchen and handed it to her granddaughter, who flipped the screen up and let her fingers dance competently over the keyboard before howling again. ‘You’ve got like a million things open!’ Flora shook her head, and looked
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