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Granny Grace peered closely at Dylan's face, 'Naah, you don't even look like you shave; Polly did that to you," she exclaimed.
Dylan shot back, defensively, "I do shave, been shaving for a year, since I was fifteen. Granted only once a week, but I wanted to look fresh for meeting you," he said, looking indignant, but hurt.
Granny Grace sat down and shouted at the guy, busy behind the serving counter, "Milky tea, two sugars for me, and whatever the nippers want they can order themselves."
Dylan was busy feeling his face, so I took the lead, "Two coffees please, white, no sugar," I shouted.
###
Our hot drinks arrived and we sipped them under a definite cloak of awkwardness. All three of us remained silent and I could detect a kind of friction between Granny Grace and Dylan that bothered me. A thought occurred to me and I spat it out, "Do you two know each other?"
Dylan answered first, "I've never met her before, in my life."
Grace fixed her eyes on Dylan, "First time I've had the pleasure of meeting this young man," she said.
A silence continued and I broke it with, "Any developments on the Paddock Field mess? I'd really like to help Carla, if we can."
Granny Grace took a glug of tea, her gnarled hand swiping her mouth, "Carla's safe and sound in police custody, for the moment." She drained her cup, then slammed it back on the table, "Right now, we're not safe." She leaned into Dylan, "And in order to improve our safety and quash this evil, we first need to deal with Polly, whether you like it or not." She leaned back and addressed me, "I'm his and Polly's legal guardian; he's known about me since his mum was murdered and his dad put away. But this is the first time he's met me, ain't it, Dylan?"
Dylan lifted his head, his eyes melty and moist with emotion. Granny Grace reacted by patting his shoulder, "You didn't expect me to be an old bird, did ya?"
Dylan stared at the table and shook his head in a 'no' gesture.
Granny Grace changed her tone; her voice had newfound warmth, "Are you disappointed that I'm old?" She asked.
He looked at Granny Grace and I noticed his bottom lip quivering, "Of course not," he managed to say before he was interrupted by a flood of tears. Grace rubbed his back, like a mother would a baby after a feed, "Go on there, good lad, let it all out, you have a good cry. God knows you need it," she said, continuing with her soothing back rub.
I remained respectfully quiet. I didn't feel the need to ask questions as I was beginning to piece together the story from what I was witnessing. I'd asked Dylan who looked after himself and Polly and he'd said, "I do. But we have a benefactor who provides for us financially and looks after our legal affairs." He'd shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't know who it is, and that's the way I like it. I don't want them interfering in our lives.
