**”Tell My Fortune, Gran”**
“Whats got you so down, love? Something wrong?” Edith Collins sat across from her granddaughter and searched her face. “Dont like the soup? I can fry up some bangers and mash instead.”
“No, Gran. Not hungry,” Lily mumbled, barely looking up as she stirred her spoon absently in the bowl.
“Somethings bothering you. Out with it. Maybe I can help,” Gran urged gently.
Lily sighed and set her spoon down.
“Its just at uni, all the girls dress so stylish, and I look like a charity shop reject. They dont laugh in my face, but Im not daft. The lads dont even glance my way.”
“Over clothes?” Gran frowned.
“That too. Im frumpy and plain.”
“Who put that nonsense in your head? Youre the prettiest girl I know. Theyre just jealous. As for clothesI get my pension tomorrow. Well pop out and get you a new dress.”
“No, Gran.” Lily shook her head. “I want proper jeans, designer ones. Do you know how much they cost? How would we live after that? I shouldve gone part-time, got a job”
Edith cut her off sharply. “Dont be silly. While Im alive, youll study proper. Whats the point of a part-time degree? Youll work soon enough. Those who mock are small-minded. Clothes dont make the person.”
“Who even cares about degrees anymore? Youre so old-fashioned, Gran. Maybe I should just find work?” Lily ventured timidly.
“Dont even think it,” Edith said firmly. “The council stops my top-up if you switch to part-time. Every penny counts.”
Lily slumped. Pointless. Gran didnt understand the shame of being nineteen and wearing her mums hand-me-downs. They were decent, surejust hopelessly out of style.
“Eat up. Ill figure something out. Got an idea.” Gran rose and disappeared into her room.
Lily heard rustling, the creak of the wardrobe. When she peeked in, Gran sat on the bed, staring out the window.
“Gran, Im sorry,” Lily murmured, sinking beside her and wrapping an arm around her.
“What for, love? Youre right. You need a proper coat, boots” Gran sighed.
“Gran, dont you dare borrow money. Wed never pay it back,” Lily pleaded.
“Wouldnt dream of it. Ive got my ringyour grandads old signet. Doubt youd wear it. Ill take it to the pawnshop tomorrow. You still not eaten?” Gran fretted.
“Ill finish later. Tell my fortune instead?”
Gran turned sharply. “Whats this? Im no fortune-teller.”
“You are,” Lily insisted. “Mum said you predicted Dad for her.”
“Whend she tell you that?” Gran looked startled.
“She did,” Lily repeated stubbornly.
“You young ones always want to know whats coming. But why? Fates written at birth. She doesnt like being tricked. Cant trust tea leaves or cardseven if I saw bad news, I wouldnt say. Dwelling on it only invites trouble.”
“Then tell me something good,” Lily coaxed.
“I dont need cards to know youll be fine. Just wait.”
“Gran, please? Whats the harm?” Lily nestled closer, eyes wide.
“Oh, you little minx. Fine.” Gran fetched a fresh deck from the cupboard. “Sit at the table.”
She spread a lace cloth, shuffling the cards deftly. “Focus on your hearts desire.”
Lily held her breath, watching Grans hands move with practiced ease. Cards fanned out facedown.
“Ready?” Gran flipped them one by one, pausing to study each. When all lay open, she smiled.
“See here?” She nudged two cards apart. “Two sevens side by side. True loves coming soon.” She pointed to others. “The King of Diamonds near you. Pairs everywhererare that is.” Her brow furrowed suddenly.
“What is it?” Lily pressed.
“Alls well. Patience. Clubs mean worries ahead.” Gran met her eyes. “But lifes nothing without troubles. No joy without loss. Thats the way of it.”
Lily listened, memorising every word.
“Gran, can we”
“Enough. Got what you wanted, eh? Love, wasnt it? Its coming. Soon.” Gran swept the cards up before Lily could protest. “Put the kettle on.”
Over tea, Lily pestered about the king.
“Works for the crown, young. Cards say no more,” Gran deflected.
“And the worries? Youre not ill, are you?” Lily asked suddenly.
“Dont fret. Ive had my time. Youve happiness aheadthats all you need know. I warned you Im no good at this.”
Next morning, Lily walked to uni buoyant. So what if they sneered at her clothes? Grans words rang true: love sees past fabric, straight to the soul.
After lectures, she lingered in the sunshineuntil she spotted the police car outside their flat, neighbours clustered.
“Lily, love, such awful news” Mrs. Wilkins from downstairs clutched a damp hankie.
“Whats happened? Gran!” Lily bolted for the door.
Her heart pounded as she raced upstairs. The flat door stood ajar. Inside, drawers yawned open, belongings strewn. A uniformed man rose from the sofa.
“Lily Anne Collins?”
“Yes. Wheres Gran? Gran!” Her voice crackedshe already knew.
“Sergeant Harris. Your grandmother, Edith Collins”
“Is she hurt? Whys everything smashed? Tell me!”
“Neighbour found her, called us. Someone struck her headnot fatally. Heart gave out after.”
Lily clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.
“Sit.” He guided her down, fetched water. “Did your gran collect her pension in cash?”
“Y-yes. Hated cards,” Lily whispered.
“Anything valuable missing?”
Lily scanned the room. “No. Last night, she mentioned pawning Grandads ring. Gold signet with a yellow stone. Not worth much. She was getting her pension today”
“No cash or ring on her. Likely the thief followed her from the post office or pawnshop. Too many witnesses outsidecame up here instead.”
“She died over a pension?” Lilys tears splashed onto her shirt.
“Seems so. Killer panicked, fled. Well find him.”
Lily bit her lip. “Gran”
“Any enemies among the neighbours?”
Lily shook her head violently. “Gran was kind to everyoneeven that drunk Mick downstairs gave her grief, but shed slip him a few quid sometimes.”
“Mick?”
“Flat 21. But he wouldnt” She crumpled, sobbing.
Questions about her parents (gone five yearscar crash), uni She answered mechanically.
“Ill check in tomorrow. Might remember something.”
Mrs. Wilkins helped tidy up, took Lily inbut come nightfall, Lily returned. Gran would worry if she wasnt home. Then she remembered, and wept anew.
Just the two of them now. Mum and Dad had been on the bus that ran the red light, ploughed into a lorry. Mum died instantly; Dad held on a day.
Morning brought fresh grief. How would she manage alone? She spotted Grans glasses on the telly, habitually tucked them away. Always misplacing them.
Sergeant Harris returned at eleven.
“Remember me?”
The name clicked. “You were here yesterday? Sorry, I”
“Understandable. Ive arranged the funeral. Neighbours chipped in.” He laid an envelope on the table. “Come with me. Bring something to dress her in.”
Numbly, Lily chose the navy dress Gran had once said would be her burial outfit. Shed scolded her thenhow could Gran ever die?
Forms, signatures, the coffins eerie calmit all blurred.
Next day, she went to uni. Couldnt bear the empty flat. After class, she switched to part-time studies, took a job at the corner shop. The cashiers remembered Gran, offered kind words.
Harris dropped by often. One day, he came with news: the thief was caught, confessedthough the ring was long sold. Small comfort.
“Lily, I wanted to say” He hesitated. “Ive fancied you since that first day. Maybe bad timing, but you can rely on me.”
She studied him silently.
“Call if you need anything.” He saved his number in her phone. Handsome in his uniform.
“Whens your day off?”
“Friday.”
“Fancy the cinema?”
She shrugged. Better than the hollow flat. They went, then walked. He spoke of his mum remarrying, his little sister, his own law studieshoped to be a detective.
She liked him. He was steady. When he proposed, she said yes.
That evening, telling Grans portrait the news, she remembered the fortunegiven the night before she died. That frown, the cryptic warning about loss.
“Gran, did you know? You said you couldnt tell fortunes. I love him, but not at this price. Why didnt you warn me?”
In the photo, Grans smile was tender, her eyes alive.
**And Lily understoodloves truest gift isnt foresight, but the courage to embrace what comes, loss and all.**
