“Gran?” I said stopping suddenly as I crossed through her living room that made me feel like coming home every time I visited her. It should be something that I did more often, I knew this but of course being the kind and loving person that she was, she never held it against me. “Gran!” I said again louder so that she could hear me from where she was busying herself in the kitchen, always wanting to make sure I was well fed every time she saw me.

“What is it love?” She asked coming into the room with a small tea tray in her hands.

“Grandads frame, where is it?” I didn’t pretend to notice all of the small items that my gran had displayed on her mantelpiece, but this frame was different. It had been in his family for more years than I could fathom. It would, he had promised me many years ago come to me. But for now it was to remain in my grans care until she was no longer around. It had been something that had held different pictures over the years. It was split into sections and could fit ten small pictures inside. It had a picture of all the people that had owned the frame in my grandads family throughout the years and he would always tell me stories about each of them. It fascinated me as a child and it was something that I always wanted. I wanted my picture to join the others. “A keeper of the frame.” I always found it somewhat magical.

“I have the pictures dear.” Gran said placing the tray on the table and taking a seat on her battered old sofa.

“Yes but what’s happened to the frame?”

“Cleaning, that’s all. It’s gone to be cleaned.” As soon as the words left her mouth I could tell that they weren’t true. Cleaning the frame was something that had never been an issue before. It had never even entered our minds. And why would it, a quick dusting is what most people would consider the normal amount of cleaning needed.

“Gran where has it gone?” I asked more frustrated than I meant to. She placed her head down and adjusted her hands in her lap. As the seconds grew closer to a minute and she still hadn’t begun to speak again I moved closer to her. It was as I moved closer I could hear the small sobs that was escaping her.

“Gran?” I said now with an overwhelming feeling of worry as I sat down next to her. When she still did not lift up her head to look at me, I reached over and took her hand. I noticed when I took it in mine that she was shaking.

“Gran, please tell me. What is it?”

“I’ve been so stupid.” Her voice was so small and just hearing those words come out of her mouth had tears springing into my own eyes.

“They said they were going to read the meter.” She started again. “I knew deep down that the man that normal comes wasn’t due for another month at least, but you know, I thought I must of gotten it wrong, or they had sent someone knew.”

I watched as the tears slipped down her face and felt it on my cheeks as my own did the same.

“When I came into the living room after, it had gone. Nothing else just that. Why would they do that, the pictures were in the side, but they stole from me. I was so stupid, I didn’t even ask them to see the card they have on them to tell me who they are.”

“Gran listen to me. This is not your fault, we will sort this.” Even as the words left me I knew there was nothing that could be done. I had to face it that the frame that had meant so much to my grandad was gone. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell my loving grandmother the same thing.