the piles of clothes, shoes, belts, hats and more. My grandma had loved to dress and had never really changed shape so nothing was ever thrown away.
Grandad was sitting on the bed clutching a thin black leather belt, pulled from a pile of other belts by his side.
‘Is that one particularly special?’ I said in my most sensitive voice, moving towards him, ready to give him comfort.
‘No,’ he said, his fingers inching along the leather. ‘I just can’t believe how much stuff there is. She could have dressed every woman in Maplelands club . . . for a year.’ He sounded dazed. I couldn’t help but giggle.
Grandad looked at me properly then, still dressed in my suit and heels. ‘Lottie, did you come from work? You must be busy. We are more than happy to do this – you get off and do something fun for the day.’
‘Don’t be silly, I can help,’ I said, not wanting to leave now, overwhelmed by the enormous number of things strewn on the bed, furniture and floor. ‘You’re going to need it,’ I added, putting my briefcase down and folding my coat on top of it.
‘I wouldn’t leave that there,’ Arjun said, clutching a roll of bin liners. ‘You might find it heading to Oxfam.’
‘Good point,’ I agreed, picking my things up again and placing them in the corridor. ‘I’ll make more tea,’ I called, heading back down the stairs.
‘Just hot water for me,’ Arjun called after me. Arjun had always tried to get Grandad and Grandma into various health kicks: he treated blueberries like they were the food of the Gods, played endless rounds of golf and had introduced them both to aqua aerobics (Grandad had only attended the first session, claiming the pop music they played was not to his taste).
The bedroom was stuffy and we worked in silence, heaping clothes into separate piles. Standing in front of the wardrobe I was overwhelmed by the scent of Grandma, a mix of mint and the outdoors, my hand shooting out for balance as if the smell would send me physically back through time. I could see her now at my cousin Nikki’s wedding in a lemon yellow linen dress; leaving for bridge in a pale blue fitted shirt, her hair shining; sitting up in her bed in a white, high-collared cotton nightdress, still beautiful and dignified even that last time.
Once we had emptied the wardrobe I stepped into the fitted closet, reaching up and pulling things from the hanging space. Some of them I didn’t recognise at all: they must have been in there for years.
‘There are some extraordinary dresses from the 1980s back here,’ I called, emerging, hair askew, with a collection of coat hangers. I held one up. ‘Grandma loved a shoulder pad, it seemed.’
‘Oh, she was smitten over that one,’ called Grandad from across the room as I drew out a mustard yellow tea dress, pale pink roses printed on the fabric.
‘I can see why: it’s so pretty.’
The label was almost entirely faded. The dress must have been at least forty years old and yet it was still pressed and ready to wear.
Being among Grandma’s clothes made me feel closer to her than I had in these last few weeks since she’d gone. Remembering how sociable she had been, dragging Grandad off to various events when he’d happily have stayed in and watched reruns of Deal or No Deal (Noel Edmonds really tickled him). I remembered occasions when she’d worn some of these dresses, how even as a teenager I had conceded that my grandma had amazing style.
Grandad had gone downstairs with another full bin liner and I was standing back in the closet, running a hand through the folds, feeling the different fabrics before pulling out a floor-length gown in dusky rose pink, tiny beads sewn into the bodice, a delicate chiffon skirt. I sucked in my breath as I removed it from the rail.
‘How did I never see her in this? It’s gorgeous.’ I held it up against me and stepped back into the room in search of a mirror. ‘Oh.’ The bedroom was empty.
Arjun was in the corridor just outside, leaning against the wall, engrossed in a burgundy-leather-bound photo album. When he looked up at me, the dress still in my hands, he had tears in his eyes. ‘I got to know her so well these last few years. She was always so good to me,’ he said, sniffing and pulling out a tissue from inside