Friday nights were normally quite exciting in the Brand household.
There was no school the next morning.
Alfie could stay up slightly later.
Barry could wear pyjamas for an unnecessarily long period before anyone insisted he put proper clothes on.
And, on this particular Friday, there was something even more exciting.
The whole family was going to Grandma’s house in Leicestershire.
They were going north.
Very north.
Or at least that was how Barry described it.
“We’re basically going to Scotland,” he announced at dinner.
“No,” said Mrs Brand.
“Nearly?”
“No.”
“Are we going past Birmingham?”
“Yes. Very slightly.”
Barry nodded.
“That’s basically Scotland.”
Alfie looked up from his dinner.
“It really isn’t.”
Barry ignored him.
Marmaduke was coming too, which made the journey considerably more exciting and considerably more likely to involve the phrase, Are we nearly there yet?
Grandma had moved into a retirement home, and the family had been helping her sort through things.
Barry had been thinking about it.
A lot.
He had always been fascinated by Grandma.
She was old, obviously.
Not very old, as far as Barry was concerned.
But definitely older than Mum.
Older than Dad.
Older than Marjory.
And considerably older than Alfie, who was only eight and therefore knew almost nothing about life.
Tonight, however, Barry had questions.
Serious questions.
Mrs Brand was helping load the bags into the car.
“Everyone got everything?”
“Yes,” said Alfie.
“Yes,” said Marmaduke.
Barry looked around.
“My dinosaur.”
“Which dinosaur?”
“The important one.”
Mrs Brand sighed.
“Of course.”
The important dinosaur was found underneath the sofa.
They were finally ready.
Mr Brand drove.
Mrs Brand sat in the front.
Alfie sat beside Marmaduke in the back.
Barry was by the window.
Snowball was staying at home, with the vet nurse Mrs Brand had asked to move in whilst they went on holiday next week. This weekend was her, rather late, taster session!
Barry had given her a very serious farewell speech.
“Be good.”
Snowball had blinked.
“Don’t eat anything you’re not supposed to.”
Snowball had yawned.
“And don’t forget me.”
Snowball had walked away.
Barry had looked wounded.
“She’s pretending not to care.”
Mrs Brand had smiled.
“I’m sure she’ll be very pleased to see you when you come home.”
Now the car was heading north.
London gradually disappeared.
The roads became darker.
The sky became black.
The headlights stretched ahead.
Marmaduke was talking to Alfie about dinosaurs.
Mrs Brand was talking quietly to Mr Brand.
Barry was looking out of the window.
After about half an hour, he spoke.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Do people get lonely when they’re old?”
There was a brief silence in the car.
Mrs Brand turned slightly.
Mr Brand looked at Barry in the mirror.
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“There are lots of reasons.”
“Like what?”
“Friends might move away. People you love might die. You might not be able to get out and see people as easily as you used to.”
Barry was quiet.
“Does Grandma feel lonely?”
Mr Brand glanced at Mrs Brand.
“I don’t know.”
“Can you ask her?”
“We can.”
Barry looked back out of the window.
“Is that why she’s going to the retirement home?”
“Partly. She’ll have people around her. Meals, activities, people to talk to.”
“Will she have friends?”
“I hope so.”
Barry thought about that.
“What if she doesn’t?”
Mrs Brand turned around.
“Then she’ll have to make some.”
“How?”
“Just like you do.”
Barry looked confused.
“But she’s old.”
Mrs Brand smiled.
“Being old doesn’t stop you making friends.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“So old people play?”
“Of course.”
“Do they play football?”
“Some do.”
“Hide and seek?”
“Probably not as much as you.”
Barry nodded.
“Because of their bad knees.”
Mr Brand laughed.
“Possibly.”
Barry went quiet again.
Then he said:
“What happens when everyone you know gets old?”
Alfie looked up.
“That is literally what happens to everyone.”
Barry frowned.
“That wasn’t helpful.”
“Sorry.”
Mrs Brand smiled.
“Everyone gets older, Barry. That’s just part of life.”
“Does everyone die?”
The car became very quiet.
Mr Brand answered carefully.
“Yes. People don’t live forever.”
Barry stared out of the window.
“That sounds sad.”
“It can be.”
“Then why do people get old?”
“Because that’s how life works.”
Barry considered this.
“I don’t like that bit.”
“Neither do adults.”
Barry nodded.
That seemed reassuring.
Then he remembered someone.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“What about Brian?”
Mr Brand knew immediately who he meant.
Brian.
Barry had met Brian at Leicester Royal Infirmary.
Brian had been an elderly gentleman, frail and very lonely.
He had talked to Barry.
Really talked to him.
Not in the way adults sometimes spoke to four-year-olds while clearly thinking about something else.
Brian had listened.
He had laughed at Barry’s questions.
He had told him about things he’d done when he was younger.
And he had told the family that he was going to the same retirement home as Grandma.
“Can we visit Brian?”
Mr Brand smiled.
“We can certainly see if he’s there.”
“Tonight?”
“Probably not tonight. It’s late already.”
“Tomorrow?”
“We can ask Grandma.”
Barry nodded.
“Does Brian have friends?”
“I don’t know.”
“He didn’t have many before.”
“No.”
Barry looked worried.
“What if he gets lonely again?”
Marmaduke had been listening.
“We can be his friends.”
Barry turned around.
“You don’t have to be old to be someone’s friend.”
“No.”
“Could we visit him?”
Mr Brand smiled.
“Yes.”
Barry settled back.
“That’s good.”
The journey continued.
They stopped at a service station.
Barry went to the toilet.
Marmaduke wanted a snack.
Alfie wanted hot chocolate.
Mr Brand wanted coffee.
Mrs Brand wanted everyone to stop asking for things for five minutes.
Nobody got what they wanted.
They continued north.
Eventually, Barry fell asleep.
He woke up as they turned into Grandma’s road.
“Are we here?”
“Yes.”
“Did I sleep?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“About forty minutes.”
Barry looked disappointed.
“I missed everything.”
“You missed the M1.”
“That sounds boring.”
“It was.”
The house smelled familiar.
Warm.
Comforting.
Like Grandma.
They had been there many times before.
But Barry looked around differently tonight.
And suddenly Barry understood that getting older wasn’t just about having grey hair or walking more slowly.
It was about changes.
People moving.
People leaving.
People needing more help.
People needing company.
At bedtime, Barry couldn’t sleep.
Marmaduke was already in bed.
Barry was sitting on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” asked Marmaduke.
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“Grandma.”
Marmaduke sat up.
“She’s okay.”
“I know.”
Barry hesitated.
“Do you think she’ll be lonely?”
Marmaduke thought about it.
“Not if we’re around.”
Barry smiled.
“We can visit.”
“Yes.”
“And call.”
“Yes.”
“And she can come to our house.”
“Yes.”
Barry nodded.
Then he whispered:
“And Brian.”
Marmaduke nodded.
“Brian too.”
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