The Franklin TREE

Could a dear departed friend bring Beth closer to her sister?

- Sarah Swatridge

It was the day of Storm Eunice when poor old Franklin, my sister Nancy’s much loved dog, didn’t wake up. His lead still hung up by the kitchen door near Nancy’s wellies, but neither had been needed.

Nancy had taken it personally when Storm Franklin came along. It was like dangling Franklin's lead in front of his empty dog bed.

‘It's a beautiful day,’ I told her. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’

Her eyes fell upon the redundant lead. I knew she'd hardly been out of the house in months.

‘Come on, it'll do us both some good,’ I said.

‘I'm not sure, Beth,’ Nancy hesitated, obviously trying to think of an excuse not to go. ‘I'm not in the mood.’

‘You didn’t say that when Franklin was here,’ I said.

‘Well, I couldn't, could I?’ Nancy huffed.

‘And I've spent the last hour in the car coming to see you. I could do with stretching my legs before driving home.’

Reluctantly, Nancy fetched her outdoor shoes. I didn’t like being the bossy big sister, but if it got her outside into the fresh air, then it was worth it.

There were only two years between Nancy and myself.

Our mother had died when I was 13. It had been difficult enough for me, being a motherless teenager, but Nancy had had to cope with changing schools as well. Ever since then, I'd been more of a mother than a big sister to her.

She took forever to get ready. Maybe she was hoping I'd lose interest. Instead, I bit my tongue and was patience itself, not something that came easily to me.

At last! She appeared at the door with her key. She’d wrapped up in so many layers, I knew she'd be shedding them, and I'd probably end up carrying things for her.

I've always envied Nancy’s location. There are so many good walks on her doorstep.

I live in a town, miles from open spaces.

‘You're so lucky to live here,’ I told her again.