Marty knew that this final touch was a bit show-offy. It wasn’t necessary really, but he thought it might add to the artistic sense of this occasion. There was only one rope left, and that was attached to a crate by the gate. In it were twenty of the lady from number 7’s pigeons. They were lovely birds but were used to racing. One tug on the rope and they’d burst from the cage in an explosion of feathers and cooing. Marty knew that when he tugged, the little door would open and WHOOSH, off the birds would go. He watched as the boys struggled nearer to the gate before beaming at Gracie …

TWENTY-FOUR

“HEY, GRANDAD, IS Marty here?”

Grandad straightened his back.

“He’s gone to get some supplies…” He winked at Gracie. She was leaning on the old rickety fence. Grandad looked at her. There was a stillness about her that wasn’t usually there.

“Don’t suppose you fancy making me a cup of tea, do you?” he chanced, sensing that sitting quietly awhile might help her. Gracie smiled warmly.

“Sure…,” she replied. Grandad watched as she put the kettle on and set about fishing out some very dodgy-looking tea bags.

“So, you all ready for the competition?” Grandad was wiping his hands on a cloth so dirty Gracie doubted it would make much difference.

“Think so…”

Grandad looked at her as she handed him his mug. She took her own, and they went to sit outside the shed.

“I’m catching the train tomorrow morning…”

“Isn’t your dad taking you?”

Gracie shrugged. She didn’t want to lie to Grandad, so she decided to say nothing. They listened to the birds for a moment.

“You don’t seem too excited?” Grandad ventured.

Gracie looked up. Her mug steaming into the air.

“I am, it’s just. Oh, I don’t know.”

She looked up. Looked as if she wanted to say something, so Grandad said nothing and gave her some time.

“We get along, Dad and me. Not like you and Marty though.”

Grandad listened.

“Mum and him split up, and since then he’s been like a headless chicken. Trying to set up a new business. Trying to do stuff all the time. Worrying about the future…”

Grandad considered this.

“I can’t speak for all men, but sometimes, doing stuff is the only way they can show they care.”

Gracie looked back at her tea.

“I know.”

Grandad waited a moment.

“Listen, Gracie, I made a lot of mistakes with my little girl. I loved her … I love her with all my heart, but every time I opened my mouth, I’d say something wrong. So I stopped. I stopped talking. We both stopped talking.”

Grandad paused. Gracie had never seen him this serious.

“It’s been one of my biggest regrets.”

Grandad and Gracie heard voices in the distance. The first of the visitors to the pumpkin.