“Oh dear, I think we might be lost,” says Nanna.
Poppy wakes from her daydeam and turns sharply to her grandmother. The faint ghost of a smile removes any tiny spark of fear that they could be in danger.
“Oh no! What are we going to do? How’ll we get home?” Poppy plays along. Nanna was always getting lost on these back roads, but miraculously seemed to find her way home before dark.
“I’ll try down here,” says Nanna, turning left onto a gravel lane at yet another set of cross roads.
There seemed to be way too many roads to choose from, and no real reason for them to exist. It was ages since they’d been through a town. Where are all these roads going?
“Heavens to Betsy,” says Nanna, “a few signposts wouldn’t go amiss!”
The warm air blowing from the open car windows felt delightful on Poppy’s face. It brought with it the sweet smell you only get from freshly cut spring grass. Nanna encouraged Poppy to take notice of her surroundings, especially the changing smells of the countryside.
“Tell me Popsie, what’s the point of all these people driving around with their windows up?” Nanna says once again. “They might as well watch the television with the sound turned off. Or eat their dinner through a straw.”
Poppy squints a bit, as she tries to think how you’d eat your dinner through a straw.
“The smells and the sounds are just as much part of the picture as what you see with your eyes,” and she waves her hands around, as if rounding up all the bits and pieces of nature into the car.
The road is rough and narrow. Hedges along both sides temporarily block Poppy’s view of the countryside. But she could tell from the deep earthy smell of manure that they were passing a dairy.
Poppy’s focus returns to inside the car. She studies Nanna’s face carefully, looking for any signs that they were in fact lost. Poppy loved that face more than nearly any other face in the world. It wasn’t what you’d call a jolly face, like the old people in picture books. If you drew a picture of Nanna’s face and put it in a picture book, it would probably be accompanied by black robes and a witch’s hat. Poppy imagined drawing the slightly hooked nose, pale watery blue eyes and long silver hair pulled back into a loose bun revealing rather large ears. It didn’t give off the homely look that her other grandmother had. But curiously enough, it was this grandmother that Poppy felt closest to and loved the most.
Homely-looking Granny seemed to have all her niceness just on the outside. There didn’t seem much niceness on the inside at all. Poppy felt unwelcome and unloved at Granny’s place. There was never any funny conversations over cups of tea and biscuits, like at Nanna’s. And rather than sharing her philosophies of the world, Granny would look for ways to put Poppy down.
“Poppy, what a funny name! Sounds like something you’d call a dog,” Granny would frequently say.
So when asked where she’d like to go this day, that her parents had to go to a meeting, Poppy quickly made it known Nanna, not Granny, thank you very much!
“Ooh, windows up,” says Nanna. There’s a dust cloud ahead, created by a mob of sheep being herded down the lane. It’s one thing enjoying the fresh air, quite another having your car filled with sheep dust.
The two wait patiently as what seems like hundreds of freshly shorn sheep baa and slowly make their way around the car. A black and tan Kelpie runs back and forward, amongst the sheep, with alternating barks and tongue lolling out. Then a man on a grey horse follows up behind. He’s wearing a dark blue singlet and a filthy Akubra hat.
“Afternoon, Maggie,” the man smiles and waves at Nanna with an arm that’s nut brown to just above his elbow where it sharply changes colour to white.
Poppy wonders how it is that everyone seems to know her Nanna.
“It’s just the way of the country Popsie. Everyone knows everyone. Trouble is, everyone knows everyone else’s business too.”
The travellers continue on, chatting amiably and fostering their in-jokes.
“There’s a house for you!” Poppy points to an abandoned cottage sitting alone in a paddock. The roof is half caved in, and sheep wander in and out of the gap where the door once was.
“You could do that one up.”
Nanna was always looking for houses to do up. The more dilapidated the better.
“Yes but that looks too good. What about that one?” She points to what is basically just a chimney surrounded by rusted iron and crumbling foundations.
“Oh yeah, you could make that really nice,” agrees Poppy grinning at Nanna.
Poppy is fascinated with the way the loose skin on Nanna’s upper arms hangs low, and jiggles as they bounce along the bumpy road.
“How old are you Nanna?” asks Poppy, not for the first time.
“I’m as old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth,” says Nanna.
The girl gives the old woman what she’s been told is a “withering look”. Mouth set, head on one side, shaking slightly, eyes looking up under her eyebrows.
“Oh you look just like your mother when you do that!” exclaims Nanna and the two laugh hysterically. This old joke is always so hilarious and Poppy tries to work it into the conversation whenever she can.
They stop for a bottle of Fanta and a bag of mixed lollies at The Toddle Inn. Not an inn at all, just a petrol station with a little milk bar attached.
“It’s a play on words,” Nanna explains.
Poppy isn’t sure if she understands or not, but nods sagely.
Soon the scenery becomes more familiar and Poppy realises they are nearly home, but arriving from a different direction than usual. Coming down the long driveway to her house Poppy wriggles in her seat and tries to ignore that odd feeling in her tummy. Things hadn’t been the same at home lately. Her parents, seemed to be a bit weird and extra polite. And Dad had been spending a lot of time with Granny and Gramps.
Jenny and Richard, Poppy’s Mum and Dad have arrived home as well, and are just getting out of the car as Nanna pulls up at the front of the wide, low house.
“Hello darling,” Nanna greets Jenny with a hug, held slightly longer than usual.
“Hello Richard,” says Nanna, hands on hips. She won’t be giving him a hug, it’s clear.
“Yes, yes. Hmm, hello Maggie,” he replies, looking at the ground. He shrugs and walks off towards the sheds. He’s wearing his only suit and proper shoes. It seems strange to go to the sheds dressed like that but Poppy is finding a lot of things strange at the moment.
“How did it go?” Poppy overhears Nanna asking her mum in a low voice.
Mother just shakes her head sadly, her eyes glistening in the late afternoon sun.
Then in a forced cheery voice she thanks Nanna for having Poppy for the day, and gives Poppy a big cuddle.
“Don’t thank me darling, I’m not the hired help. Poppy and I had a lovely time, didn’t we Popsie? She should stay the night with me next time. It seems there might be quite a few next times? Lucky for me.” Nanna says with raised eyebrows. Mother gives Nanna a withering look, and says something through gritted teeth.
Nanna does side eyes at Poppy, and they both start giggling again.
Amanda Gambas Author 