‘There’s a bed over there,’ Bette said, pointing, but all I could make out was a mound of boxes and coats. ‘It’s a really good one,’ she said. ‘We paid a pretty penny for it. It was never anything but the best for your mother, she was always such a fussy creature.’

I tried to laugh.

By the light of the undressed bulb Bette began excavating and revealed a squeaky sprung bed under the detritus against the far wall. ‘Sheets,’ she said, and as she moved to disappear again, now more like a busy mole than an owl, I said, ‘Thank you, Grandma. I am really very sorry to have caused you this bother, to turn up so late unannounced like this. I . . . I needed somewhere to go and I didn’t have a phone number for you, or an email, or anything –’

‘Of course this was the only way!’ Bette turned suddenly. She sounded almost angry. ‘She’s kept us apart for so long, too long, but you’ve set that right, bless you.’

I was taken aback by the fierceness of her words, but then she dropped it down again as she said, ‘I won’t wake your grandfather up now – he’s like a bear with a sore head if he doesn’t get his eight hours – but won’t we have a magnificent surprise for him in the morning!’ She clapped her hands together like a kid. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘have you eaten? I could make you something.’

Bette seemed excited at the prospect, but what I had seen in the kitchen evaporated any appetite I might have had. ‘No Grandma, it’s alright, I ate on the train.’

‘Okay then, I’ll just go and find you a nice tracksuit to sleep in.’

‘I can get my suitcase from outside, all my clothes are in it – my pyjamas.’

Grandma looked towards the dark window. ‘Perhaps it’s best if we get it for you in the morning.’

‘But it’s just right there. If I had some light –’

‘There’ll be something you can wear tonight,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and find it.’ And she disappeared again up the hallway.

I stood in the overflowing room, breathing through my mouth and wondering where on earth I had landed.

Bette finally appeared again holding a faded blue crocheted bedspread, a pair of tube socks, and something aqua-coloured and velveteen. She fumbled the bedspread over the doona but slapped my hand away when I tried to help. ‘This was your mother’s too, very fine,’ she said proudly. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Finally the shaking old fingers smoothed the last wrinkles from the bed. ‘Maybe you will call your mother tomorrow,’ she said as she straightened up. ‘Get her to come too.’

I looked at my phone. Still no reception. I hadn’t really believed that places without reception still existed.

‘My phone is –’

‘I’m sure your grandfather would let you use the phone in the good room. You could call her from there and get her to come,’ Bette said.