Aunty Bev shrugged.
I stared at my aunt. ‘Mum is going to kill me.’
Aunty Bev cackled with laughter. ‘I am itching to tell them on WhatsApp. It will be sweet revenge for all the times they have bitched about me on there.’
‘Where’s he going to live?’
‘Oh, he’s moving in with Dorothy after Christmas.’ She drained her glass and poured herself a new one. ‘Good luck, Dorothy. Cheers to the happy couple.’
‘He can’t do this,’ I muttered, imagining my mum and Aunty Karen’s faces when I break the news to them.
Aunty Bev shrugged. ‘Let him get on with it. He’s eighty and lonely up there. Good grief if I was being cared for by Karen and Rob, I would be asking the first person I met to marry me just to get away from them.’
‘Mum will kill me.’
‘Life’s too short to worry about what your mother thinks. Anyway, she’s hardly living a perfect life.’
‘I have given my landlord notice on my flat and I am also going to have to explain to Mum why I am moving here with no job.’
Aunty Bev looked at me. ‘Rachel, your life is not your mother’s business.’
I grabbed my empty wine glass. ‘Fill me up, Aunty Bev, I need a drink.’
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
‘Grandpa, we need to talk,’ I said the next morning, as he came into the kitchen. His white hair was sticking out on one side but on top it looked like he’d been using gel as it was almost spiked at the front.
‘Aunty Bev told me you’re now engaged.’
A huge grin broke out across his face, and he fist-pumped the air. ‘Isn’t it the best news? Can you put it on that What’s-it called thing?’
‘WhatsApp?’ I shook my head. ‘No, Grandpa, I am not sticking it on there. You hardly know Dorothy, Grandpa. How are Mum and the family going to react?’
‘They might throw me and Dorothy an engagement party?’
‘Grandpa, I am being serious. You can’t get engaged to Dorothy.’
He sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Why not, Rachel? I am a lonely eighty-year-old man who doesn’t want to spend the last years of his life wasting away in his shed and with Robert and Karen caring for him.’
‘What I am saying is, why can’t you date Dorothy first and then get engaged?’
He shook his head. ‘I might drop down dead next week, Rachel. I don’t have time to date. This is what I want to do with my life. Now, I need you to get your mother on the phone.’
Blood drained from my face. Mum would go berserk. Even though it had been on Aunty Bev’s watch when the proposal had been made, I would be the one who got blamed. ‘Grandpa, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. Let’s get Christmas out of the way. We can tell Mum once Christmas is over.’
To my dismay he shook his head. ‘I want to tell her my good news.’
‘Does Dorothy’s daughter know about this?’
‘Dorothy said yes so that’s the important bit.’
I groaned as Aunty Bev staggered into the kitchen. Her hair was matted, her eye make-up from last night was halfway down her cheeks and she was still in her clothes. ‘I shouldn’t have gone down to Frank’s cellar and got myself a second bottle of wine. I have a new theory – the dustier the bottle, the worse the hangover.’ She slumped down at the kitchen table next to Grandpa. ‘Morning. What’s going on?’
‘I was telling Rachel about my engagement and how I am keen to let Janice and Karen know the good news.’
This would not end well. My mother would probably fall off her sunbed in shock and horror whilst Aunty Karen would probably have a full breakdown. I couldn’t cope with this along with everything else. It was supposed to be Christmas. ‘You can’t do that, Grandpa,’ I pleaded. ‘Mum will blame me. This will be my fault. I will never hear the end of this.’
Aunty Bev looked at me. ‘Rachel, you need to stop letting your mother have so much control over you.’
