Going to college at the age of seventy seemed a little silly to her grandchildren at first. What on earth was she going to do? Pass an English GCSE? What would be the point in that? She didn’t work, so didn’t need to prove anything.
‘I’m going to take up painting again,’ she said.
‘Painting?’ Sarah said.
‘Yes, painting, you don’t know this, but when I was younger, it was a great passion of mine. But it didn’t earn a lot of money, and I had a child to bring up, so I got a job in an office. Now I’m on my own, I can’t stay in the house all day, so I want to paint.’
‘Were you any good Grannie?’
Sally walked upstairs, and pointed to a picture – a painting of her husband when he was young. ‘I painted this, but I was younger then, and I haven’t painted in thirty years.’
‘Grannie, I always thought someone else painted Grandad. It’s amazing.’
‘Thankyou, I think it’s a great idea you are going to college, but I might join you. Painting sounds like fun.’