Don dropped by after work that afternoon and Sandra could see that he was unhappy about something but before she could even offer him a drink he blurted out, ‘Laila said you have an Instagram account with that friend of yours and that you’ve posted photos of your tattoos.’ He paused, his lips tightening, ‘And of you both in swimming costumes.’ Disapproval was written all over his face.
She took two mugs off the holder. ‘Yes, we started swimming lessons today. You know how I’ve always wanted to swim. It was fun.’ She looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Coffee?’
He nodded then asked sternly, ‘Do you really think it’s appropriate to post photos of yourself in your bathing costume for all and sundry to see?’
She made the coffee and handed him a mug before replying. ‘It’s a very decent swimming costume. I don’t see why I shouldn’t.’
He shook his head, as if she was a naughty child. ‘Mum, you need to be careful what you post on Instagram. There are lots of scammers out there, people who pretend to be someone they aren’t. You’re making yourself vulnerable. There are people whopretend to be men… who admire you… and send you messages in your inbox.’
‘Oh, so you think I’m much too old for a man to actually admire?’ she teased.
Don reddened. ‘No but,’ he floundered. ‘I’m serious, Mum, you could be inviting the wrong kind of attention.’
‘Look, don’t worry, I know all the risks. Patti’s granddaughter Kit has told us all about that, and she’s fixed our settings so that no one can contact us if we don’t follow them. Besides, we’re not stupid enough to reply to someone dodgy.’ She seated herself in the nearest chair. She might as well be comfortable if Don was going to lecture her.
Don put his mug on the worktop and leaned back against it. ‘It’s not easy to spot scammers, Mum. Lots of people have been taken in by them. They contact you and pretend to be all sorts, then before you know it they’ve emptied your bank account.’
‘I promise you I won’t be giving money to anyone.’
‘Make sure you don’t. If someone contacts you, let me know. I’ll sort them out for you.’
‘I will. There’s no need to worry. Like I said, Kit has explained everything to us.’
‘Well, it doesn’t look like she has. If you post that you’re going swimming – or anywhere else – then everyone will know you’re out and someone might break in.’
‘How would they know where we live? We haven’t put our full names and address on our account! Stop fretting, Don, it’s only a bit of a lark. And if it encourages other older people to learn to swim, surely that’s a good thing?’ She took a sip of her coffee.
He folded his arms across his chest. ‘I really don’t think this is a good idea. I don’t know what’s got into you just lately. You’re acting completely out of character! I mean, what do you actuallyknow about this Patti? She could be a scammer, she might have befriended you to get some money out of you.’
Sandra almost choked on her drink. ‘You do have a vivid imagination! She’s an old friend and is recovering from cancer. We’re both just having a bit of fun, that’s all. Like I used to do before your dad died and my world fell apart,’ she reminded him. ‘Lots of people have Instagram accounts.’ She put her cup down, ‘I do wish you’d stop stressing. It really isn’t a big deal.’
Don sucked in his breath. ‘I can’t help worrying. I won’t be near enough to help you out if you get into trouble when I live in Cambridge. That’s why I want you to move too.’
‘I am not going to get into any trouble. Now please sit down and drink your coffee and let’s talk about something else. How are the girls?’
Thankfully he sat down and started talking about Kali and Rana’s latest exploits. Don was a good father and adored his daughters. There was no mention of Sandra moving again but later that evening she received a message from him with a link. ‘Here’s a couple of bungalows for sale in Cambridge in your price range. They look ideal for you and aren’t far from where we’ll be living.’
Curiously, she clicked onto the first link and up came the details of a detached two bedroomed bungalow with a paved front drive. She scrolled the images, a small kitchen, small lounge, equally small bedrooms – one just a box room – and a pocket-sized garden. Reading the details she could see that it was also on a retirement complex, with a resident warden. There were community fees of a couple of thousand a year. The other link showed a similar property.
She got up and walked over to the window, looking out at the garden. She knew that Don was only trying to look after her. She could see that it probably would be the sensible thing to moveinto a bungalow like that. But she didn’t think she could do it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. There were no memories between those bland walls, none of Brian’s clothes hanging in the wardrobes, no marks on the bedroom doorposts to mark the children’s height, no memories of the children playing in the garden, of Martin’s motorbike leant against the garage wall, of Brian sitting in the armchair sipping his nightly tot of brandy with hot water. How could she leave all that behind?
But if she didn’t move, she was losing the only family who lived nearby.
She put on a film hoping to distract her thoughts, but she couldn’t settle. Finally she gave up and went to bed, but slept restlessly, tossing and turning. When she did drift off she had mixed up dreams of Don and Martin. The next morning she woke up with a headache, feeling decidedly out of sorts.
She pulled on her dressing gown and went downstairs to make herself a hot drink which she took out into the garden, hoping the fresh air would make her feel better.
Then a text pinged in. She glanced at the screen, fearing it might be from Don asking her what she’d thought of the links he’d sent over. Her spirits lifted when she saw that it was from Honey.
Honey
Wow, Nan, your Insta account is fab. And you have hundreds of followers already.
She clicked open her Instagram. Three hundred and ten followers. And lots of comments from people saying what a splendid idea their bucket list was and telling them the things they would like to do. Who would have thought it?
Honey
Wanna chat?
