Horror Stories from Horrified - Volume One (2)

I never met Gr andma because she bailed on the mar r iage, r unning away in the
middle of the night. No note - nothing. No one had hear d fr om her since, and I
know that hur t my father ver y badly. He was only ten at the time and used to
dr ive himself mad, tr ying to w or k out w hat he?d done to let her dow n or
disappoint her. After ten year s of pr otecting him, she?d simply walked away
w ith no explanation. The silver lining was, once it was clear she wasn?t coming
back, Gr andpa sw or e off the booze entir ely and slow ly r ebuilt his r elationship
w ith his childr en.
It?s har d to r econcile all this w ith my ow n memor ies. The Gr andpa I knew was a
quiet man w ith a sense of humour , w ho smiled r ar ely w ith his mouth but often
w ith his eyes. When he did, they w er e like tw o br ight gems in cr umpled chamois
leather. I couldn?t imagine him dr unk, let alone violent. In the mor ning, he smelled
of coal tar soap and aniseed toothpaste, and at night he smelled of Old Holbur n.
Even today, these ar e smells that make me feel safe. I thought he?d be ar ound
for ever - but he was an old man, of cour se - and how could he be?
One day, w hen I came home fr om school, it was clear something bad had
happened. Mum and Dad w er e talking in low voices. When I enter ed the hall, they
r etr eated fur ther into the kitchen, quietly closing the door.
At last, Dad emer ged.
?Do you want to knock on Gr andpa?s,? he said - tr ying to make it sound like a
bit of a game - ?and walk the dog your self tonight??
It wasn?t Gr andpa w ho answ er ed the door but Auntie Jill. Fr om that point on,
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