Free Shell House by Gayle Eileen Curtis Page A

Banford  
     
            Dinner with Jonathan was a disaster. I’m not sure where we go from here... I’m going home today just for a short while. I think we both need a break from one another. I have promised Harry I will visit over the Christmas period.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    PART TWO
     
    CHAPTER ONE
     
            Nancy laid the table as though it was Christmas already. She’d insisted on pink napkins and silver crackers. Harry watched her from the doorway of the kitchen, his pinny stained with meat juices and gravy. She was excited at the prospect of having dinner with her new aunt for the first time; Harry knew her father was not.
            Jonathan had finally agreed, reluctantly, but then he reluctantly agreed to most things. Harry couldn’t shake off the feeling that it wasn’t just because he was trying to keep Nancy happy – she was so excited about the dinner. There was a hint of condescension in Jonathan’s voice, as though he were going along with some childish game to appease his father. It had rattled Harry slightly especially as he’d been able to tell what he was thinking in the few words he’d spoken. That Harry’s morals had slipped; why bother with her now? It would all end in tears. Jonathan’s voice was laced with disgust, disbelief and judgement; all the attributes that Harry thought a good doctor could well do without. In the few minutes they’d been on the telephone, Harry had felt the parental shift he’d had to battle to reverse only a few months previously.
            He stood in the doorway now, watching his granddaughter and thinking to himself how people often commented that age brings forgiveness. But as he looked at Nancy, her heart open, wanting to make it right for him because she knew how very much it meant, he realised that age had nothing to do with it. Her comments had been that she wasn’t there at the time so how could she have an opinion? Her aunt was only a child. How could anyone judge unless they knew the details? But her father had made it quite clear to her that he had been there and he remembered exactly what happened.
            Harry knew Nancy was so accepting of her aunt because he’d welcomed her into the fold. If her old grandfather said it was alright then it clearly was in her eyes. He knew out loud that in one sentence, “she killed two children”, sounded abhorrent, unforgivable, barbaric. But there was more to it and he couldn’t put his finger on it.
            “Come on, Gramps, don’t just stand there.”
            “Do you really think this is such a good idea?”
            “Not entirely, but it’ll either work or it won’t.”
            “Well, that’s reassuring.”
            “We’ll do our bit and that’s all we can do.” Nancy lit the candles she’d placed on the table and stepped back to survey her handiwork.
            “Very nice.”
            “Let’s have some music; that always makes people feel good.”
            “Not that drivel you listen to.”
            “No. Let’s have some of your drivel on. Some of that trumpet stuff you seem to like.”
            “Jazz.”
            “Whatever. Have you sorted out the wine?” Nancy waved her hands to show him what she meant. “You know − poured it into something else and then back again?”
            “Decanted.”
            “That’s it. We must have plenty of wine; it helps Dad talk more.”
            “And your mother too much.”
            “Can’t be helped; either way she’s ghastly.” Nancy clamped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
            “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear.”
            Nancy laughed and made her way towards the kitchen; Harry didn’t budge from the door.
            “Dinner coming on okay?” She tried