Gran was wriggling around on the sofa, muttering. She wasn’t watching the TV, and all the cushions had been tossed on the floor. ‘You OK, Gran?’ She looked up at him. At first her face was screwed up in a frown, but then her expression cleared. ‘Hello, love.’ Jake fetched some of the old photo albums and brought them over. ‘Shall we look for your dog, Gran?’ ‘Eh?’ ‘Bramble. Shall we look for Bramble?’ She smiled then, and together they started turning the pages of the album. Every time they came across a dog, Jake pointed at it. ‘Is that Bramble, Gran?’ But each time she shook her head. ‘What was he like, Gran? What was Bramble like?’ Her face softened. ‘Lovely,’ she said quietly. ‘He was lovely.’ After a while, Jake felt his eyes begin to droop. Gran was already dozing and eventually he gave in; he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.
