Lizzie Zipmouth (7 page)

“How is Great-Gran?” I asked.

“Not very well,” said Sam sadly.

“Is she going to get better?”

“I hope so.”

“Can she walk and talk yet?”

“She's going to have to learn all over again, like a baby. They're trying to teach her already. But she won't do as she's told.”

I nodded. I couldn't imagine Great-Gran letting anyone tell her what to do.

“Can I see her, Sam? Tomorrow?”

“I . . . I think you might find it a bit upsetting, pet,” said Sam.

“I know I'd find it upsetting,” said Rory.

“Please can I see her, Sam?” I begged.

“Lizzie, it's probably not a good idea,” said Mum.

“
Please
, Sam,” I said, clutching his sleeve.

“OK then, Lizzie, if it's what you really want,” said Sam.

I hugged him – and sent his cup of tea flying. It went all over his trousers but he
still
didn't shout. He hugged me back!

Sam took me to the hospital to see Great-Gran on Sunday afternoon. I held his hand tightly when we went into the ward. It wasn't the way I'd thought it would be. I wanted it to be very white and neat and tidy with nurses in blue dresses and little frilly caps. It was a big strange messy place with sad people slumped in beds or hunched in wheelchairs. One old man was crying. I nearly cried too.

“Are you sure you're OK, Lizzie?” Sam whispered, bending down to me. “We can go straight back home if you want.”

I
did
want to go home. But I also wanted to see Great-Gran, though I was very worried she'd look sad and scary now.

“I want to see her,” I said in a teeny-tiny voice.

“OK. She's over here,” said Sam, and he led me to Great-Gran's bed.

Sam's hand was damp. He seemed scared too.

Great-Gran was lying crookedly on the pillow with her hair sticking up and her eyes shut.

“Are you asleep, Gran?” said Sam, bending over her.

Great-Gran's eyes snapped open. They were still bright blue. But they weren't gleaming.

“How are you today, Gran?” said Sam.

Great-Gran made a cross snorty noise. It was obvious she thought it a pretty stupid question.

“I've brought someone to see you,” said Sam. He gave me a gentle tug forward. “Look, it's little Lizzie.”

Great-Gran looked. Then her eyes clouded and water seeped out. She made more cross snorty sounds. Her nose started running. She tried to move but her arm wouldn't work properly. She wailed and went
gargle-gargle
.

“What is it, Gran?” Sam said helplessly.

“She wants a hankie,” I said. I found Great-Gran's handbag and got a hankie out. “Here we are. I'll wipe your eyes first. And then your nose. And here's your comb. We'll do your hair, eh? It's OK. I'm good at doing hair. I do Alice's, don't I?”

I mopped and wiped and combed.

“There!”

Gran still looked bothered, her head on one side.

“Do you want to sit up straight?”

Gran nodded.

Sam helped me pull her up and tidy her pillow. Gran lay back, straight in the bed, seeming much more herself. She looked at me. She opened her mouth. She went
gargle-gargle
, then sighed in despair.

“Try again, Gran,' said Sam.

Gran went
gargle-gargle
and then wailed.

“Never mind. Don't upset yourself,” said Sam, patting her little clenched hand.

Gran couldn't stop being upset. She went
gargle-gargle-gargle-gargle.

“Don't worry. We'll get you talking soon,” said Sam, a tear sliding down his cheek.

“We'll get you talking
now
,” I said, taking Great-Gran's other hand. “Of course you can talk – if you really want to. Open your mouth!”

Great-Gran opened her mouth. Sam's mouth fell open too.

“Aha! There's your tongue,” I said. “And your teeth. So use them, please, Great-Gran. NOW!”

“Cheeky little madam!” said Great-Gran in almost her normal voice.

She sounded cross – but she held on to my hand as if she could never let it go.

Chapter Eight

Great-Gran didn't die. She didn't get
completely
better. She spent three months learning how to walk again. She had to use a stick and went very, very slowly with a bad limp. One arm wouldn't work properly any more so for a little while she had to have her food cut up. I did it for her, very neatly. I did her hair too and helped her with her stockings and did her shoes up for her with tidy bows.

Great-Gran didn't need any further help with talking though! For the first few days in hospital she got her words jumbled up and didn't always make sense but by the time she was ready to come home she talked perfectly. She talked too much, telling the doctors and nurses what to do. They didn't always like it. Great-Gran didn't care. Sometimes she got very cross indeed and told them just what she thought of them.

“Can't you keep your grandmother under control?” one nurse said to Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes in a funny way to show this was completely impossible. He tried asking Great-Gran not to be so rude. Great-Gran was very rude indeed to Sam.

I couldn't help getting the giggles.

“I think you should try to be Great-Granny Zipmouth!” I said.

Sam and Mum and Rory and Jake and the nurse all gasped. But Great-Gran didn't get cross with me.

“You're a sparky girl, little Lizzie,” she said. “You take after me.”

She forgot she's not my real great-gran. But she's definitely part of my family.

She still tells me off sometimes though, now she's back in her flat. I don't really mind. It's because she gets tired out now as one of her legs doesn't work properly. She doesn't like walking very, very slowly with a limp. But she can go very, very fast when she's outside because she now has an electric scooter to get her to the shops and back. Rory and Jake think Great-Gran's scooter is seriously cool. They keep begging Great-Gran to let them drive it but she won't hear of it.