prompt - Some Forgotten Detail

'Well we're going back,' said Phyll.

'What?!' Ann's voice steadied a little. Hope rising as she took in what her mother was saying.

'We're going back. And we're going to find it,' said Phyll. 'There's no way you're losing that. We'll find it, you'll see. I can feel it. Go and get in the car. Come on Duncan, you come too.'

'What? Me? Why?' said Ann's brother.

Twenty minutes later and we were back on the beach. Felixstowe. Summer heat hanging on though the breeze had lifted a little.

I stopped and scanned the horizon. A tanker balked on the skyline. At this distance it seemed motionless as if set on the shelf of the sea. But when I checked again a few minutes later I could see it had moved. Like it was playing some magnificent, slow game of Grandmother's Footsteps.

'Come on, Chris. Help!' Ann was with her mother and Duncan, heads down, all in a line stretched out across the shingle. Eyes becoming fingers, touching shells, turning stones, sea glass, in the clinging hope that the watch would appear.

I caught up with them, coming in between Ann and Duncan. I slipped my hand into Ann's. She squeezed it but released it immediately.

'Not so close,' she said without looking up. She pushed me away a little, and Duncan too moved slightly further out.

Phyll had dropped behind us, scouring the ground more thoroughly. Her positive tone from before had changed somewhat.

'I can't believe you came here with it on. What were you thinking?'

'Don't, Mum,' Ann snapped. 'Just don't!'

'What would Nana say? I told her she shouldn't have given it to you. She should have waited till....' Her voice trailed off.

'Waited till when?' Ann's voice rose in indignation at her mother's suggestion.

'Nothing. Forget it.'

'Waited till she was dead – that's what you mean, isn't it.'

'Don't be so horrible, Ann.'

'But that is what you're saying, isn't it? She shouldn't have given it to me. She should have left it to me in her will! That's what you're saying.'

'That's not what I'm saying, and you know it.'

'Oh, just shut up!'

A heavy silence settled upon us once again.

I couldn't help but think that, actually, Ann's Nana would not really have much thought about it either way.

We'd been to see her the summer before in North Berwick. Caught the bus from Edinburgh. A glorious day, the Firth of Forth glittered under a cloudless sky.

We got off on the main street and bought grapes and a pack of Tunnocks teacakes to take to her. Then we climbed the hill out of the little town until we found the path that led through carefully- tended grounds surrounding the home. It was a grand building, white against the green lawns with gentle gravel paths and wooden benches. Residents dotted themselves around the grounds. They seemed motionless and yet, when I looked again, I could see they had moved.

Inside the heat hung like fog. Radiators on full. The air was dry, with the smell of warm carpet and recently cooked cabbage. We were led into the day-room and there was Nana, sat in a high-backed, winged armchair looking out through one of the bay windows.

Ann's voice didn't seem to register immediately.

'Hello, Nannan!'

It must have been a greeting heard regularly here and old Mrs Bathgate left it unheeded.

'Nannan?' Ann moved and placed her hand on the old woman's where it rested on the arm of her chair.

She looked up at Ann and smiled.

'Ooh!' she said. 'Now who's this?'

Her soft Scots accent made a gift of the words.

'It's me,' said Ann, 'Ann. Tom and Phyll's daughter. You remember.'

'Of course it is,' said Nana. 'Tom and Phyll's daughter. You're Ann. I can see that. And here you are. Ann.'

She smiled and took Ann's hand in both of hers.

'Come and sit down, ma' hen.'

I moved to find a chair – an ordinary dining chair for Ann and set it down close enough to Nana so that Ann could sit down without letting go her hand.

'You're Ann. Tom and Phyll's daughter. Yes. Ann. And here you are.'

'Nana, I want you to meet someone.'

'Oh yes, dear.'

'This is Chris.' Ann looked up at me and took my hand.

'Chris,' said Nana. 'Oh yes, Chris. My, he's a handsome young fellow, isn't he? Chris.'

'We're engaged,' said Ann. 'I wanted you to meet him.'

'Oh,' said Nana, 'engaged are you? So he's not for me then?' She twinkled her eyes at me and chuckled to herself, her shoulder lifting up to her ears.

'Nannan,' scolded Ann. 'Don't be naughty!'

'He's a handsome fellow. What did you say his name was?'

'Chris.'

'Chris, yes Chris, that's right. I remember. And you are...?'

'Ann. Tom and Phyll's daughter.'

'That's right.'

'They send their love!'

'Hm?'

'Mum and Dad. They send their love.'

'Oh, no dear, they're dead now.'

'No, no – my mum and dad, Tom and Phyll. They send their love.'

'Oh. Tom and Phyll. Oh, are they here?'

'No they're in Ipswich. Chris and I are just up for the festival.'

'Ipswich? What are they doing in Ipswich?'

'They live there. In Ipswich.'

'Oh I don't think they should do that, dear. Now wait...' She paused to search her thoughts for a moment. 'Ach, it's... no I'll tell you tomorrow.'

'We're staying in your flat, Nana. Chris and I. For the festival... well for a few days.'

'Oh, lovely.'

'You remember your flat. On Leith Walk?'

'Remember. Oh yes, I remember. Who's this young man? Yes, Leith Walk.'

'Chris. He's my fiancé.'

'Oh yes. I remember.' Again she paused with a furrowed brow. 'Och, no... no I'll tell you tomorrow.'

Suddenly her eyes brightened and opened wider.

'Ann,' she said. 'Ann Julie. Your Thomas's daughter.'

'Yes!' said Ann. 'Thomas and Phyllis.'

'Oh how lovely that you've come to see me.'

'I wanted you to meet Chris.'

'Yes, Chris. How lovely.'

She looked at me with grey violet eyes. Took my hand in hers. Her skin was pearlescent, cool and dry under my fingers, wrinkling as I stroked my thumb gently across the back of her hand.  Her age granting me permission for such an intimate act. 

She smelled of peppermints and lavender.

'Ann,' she said. 'I've something for you. Young man, would you go to that table, open the drawer and bring me the box from inside.'

She indicated a small table and I followed her instructions. She opened the box and removed a wrap of white tissue paper.

'Take that, Ann, it's for you. I don't need it any more. I've been keeping it for you.

Ann took the tissue wrap and carefully unfolded the paper.

'There!' cried Phyll. 'There it is!!'

She rushed forward, bent over and pulled the watch from the sandy shingle.

'Oh thank God!!' cried Ann. 'Mummy, Mummy, Mummy! You clever thing!'