Coming Clean - Living with OCD. Hayley Leitch
pies outside, underneath the street lamp.
Granddad Bert had a sweet tooth but also a very deep pocket. As soon as he heard the jingle of the ice cream van, he’d dig for change and send us to fetch ice creams. We always chose screwballs because they were our favourite – the chewing gum at the bottom was like having two puddings in one. But after a while, Granddad realised just how much our treats were costing him so he hit on a novel idea.
‘When you’ve finished your ice creams, pop the plastic containers in there.’ He said, pointing over towards the kitchen sink.
‘Why?’ I asked. I was perched on a chair in the kitchen but it was high off the ground and my legs were swinging beneath me like a pendulum.
‘Because,’ he announced, ‘from now on, we’re going to make our own screwballs.’
And we did. In fact, our homemade screwballs tasted even better than the ones from the ice cream van because we got to choose our favourite colour chewing gum. Granddad Bert wasn’t tight but, with so many grandchildren, making homemade screwballs also made sound financial sense. It kept us all busy on long and wet afternoons as we spent ages scooping ice cream from endless tubs, filling up the freezer. Whatever we did at Nanny Rose’s house, we always had fun, until the day that everything changed.
Lauren and I were due to go to a car boot sale in the middle of Tooting, with Nanny Rose and Auntie Tina. As soon as we arrived at Nana’s house I ran into the kitchen to say hello but she wasn’t there. I dashed from one room to another until I found her, pale and quiet, sitting in the front room in an armchair. It was odd to see her sitting down because usually she was far too busy looking after everyone. Although the adults had followed me into the room, no one said a word about Nana being sat down. Mum left for work and Auntie Tina wheeled something through the door – it was a wheelchair – Nanny Rose’s wheelchair. I felt uneasy because I knew it meant something was wrong with her. I started to worry.
Why did Nana need a wheelchair, she’d never had one before?
It felt odd, walking along the path with Nanny Rose because, up until that point, she’d been the strongest woman I knew, but now there she was, slumped inside the wheelchair as if she was broken. I tried not to fret; there must be a good reason for it.
Maybe she was just tired? Yes, that was it. Nana was just tired. She’d soon be up on her feet again.
As Auntie Tina pushed her along, I tried to think of the positives. A wheelchair was a novelty – it also meant a free ride on Nanny Rose’s knee. But my cousin Kerry was the smallest so she got to go first. Kerry had been born prematurely and was small for her age. My aunt had said that Kerry was so small at birth that she’d even made it into the Guinness Book of World Records. Even though we were a similar age, my cousin was as petite and fragile as one of Nanny Rose’s porcelain dolls. But now I was annoyed because Kerry was hogging the treat for herself.
‘When’s it going to be my turn?’ I complained at the side of the chair.
It was taking too long to walk to the car boot sale and the back of my legs were aching.
‘Soon,’ Nanny Rose whispered pulling me close. She winked at me to let me know that it was alright, she’d sort something out.
But another five minutes had passed and I’d still not had my turn. In protest I stopped dead in my tracks and folded my arms angrily across my chest.
‘It’s not fair!’ I huffed.
Nanny Rose chuckled. It was good to see her laugh because I’d been so worried about her and the chair. She uncurled her hands from Kerry’s waist and asked her to jump off because now it was my turn. I grinned as she pulled me up into prime position.
‘Better?’ she whispered in my ear.
‘Yes,’ I nodded.
And it was, because everything was better when I was with Nanny Rose. I loved being up there because it felt great to be sat on the knee of the most important person. I shut my eyes as the wheelchair rolled along the path and imagined being on a fairground ride. I felt so safe and secure that I never wanted to climb down again. All too soon we reached the car park of the car boot sale. The place was packed with what seemed like hundreds of people milling around looking through other people’s knick knacks. Nanny Rose called it all rubbish but she still bought us all an A3 colouring board. There were lots of different pictures to choose from but mine had a picture of a bunny. I couldn’t wait to get back to Nana’s house and make a start on it but she wanted to have another look round so we did a second circuit of the boot fair. I thought how odd it was, selling off little pieces of your life to strangers. I could never imagine Nana parting with her treasures like that. My Nan spent the whole time sitting, smiling away in her chair but deep down I knew something was wrong. Something had changed overnight. It wasn’t something I could see, touch or taste but something was there and I knew that ‘something’ was slowly taking my Nanny Rose away from me.
The next time we visited her house, Nana was upstairs resting in bed.
‘Is she tired?’ I asked Mum, my face crumpled with concern.
She glanced down at me but I could tell she didn’t know what to say. Instead she just nodded. As she did, Dad turned his face away as though he was upset about something.
‘Why don’t we go and say hello to her?’ Mum suggested brightly.
Lauren and I dashed through to the hallway, flung our coats over the banister, and ran straight upstairs to Nana’s bedroom. As soon as we entered, my eyes widened. Nanny Rose looked even paler than I’d remembered. Now she had dark purplish rings underneath her eyes. But as soon as she saw us, those same eyes shone with love as she stretched out her arms in welcome.
‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ she called, ‘come and give your Nanny Rose a kiss.’
We instinctively ran over to her but as I wrapped my tiny arms around her, I was amazed at just how far they stretched around her back. I felt the bumps of the bones underneath her skin – as thin and fragile as a baby bird – she looked and felt different.
‘That’s enough girls,’ Mum said after a few moments. ‘We don’t want to tire Nanny Rose out now, do we?’
Nan smiled and rested her head back on the two huge pillows propped beneath her. Mum gently guided us away towards the door but something made me turn back and wave.
‘Bye,’ I whispered.
Nanny Rose looked up and smiled but she suddenly looked old, as if a light had gone out inside her. Her skin was paper thin, almost translucent, and her face grey and haunted. I didn’t want to leave her there, all alone in her bedroom, but Mum insisted Nana needed to rest. However, before we left, I popped back upstairs to say goodbye properly. Nanny Rose gave me and Lauren lots of kisses but, this time, it was Mum who looked upset. It unnerved me. Later that night I tried to sleep but I couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling or rid myself of the knot twisting inside the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. The following Sunday, I expected to see Nanny Rose back in her usual spot in the kitchen.
She’d had lots of sleep; surely she must feel better by now?
But by the time we arrived, it was Granddad Bert doing all the cooking. He looked odd and out of place standing next to Nanny Rose’s cooker. There were a dozen aunts and uncles fussing around him, laying the table and helping to serve dinner, but Granddad looked as helpless and as lost as a small boy. As usual, the children sat down to eat first but when it came to the adults there was one empty space at the table – the most important person was missing. With each Sunday that passed, so the same pattern followed until I almost became used to the space at the table where Nana had once sat. Instead, my beautiful Nanny Rose withered away upstairs until one day, I never saw her again. At first, I didn’t understand what had happened. I wanted to know why the adults looked so upset and why some were crying but no one would tell me. In sheer desperation, I turned to my older cousin.