Unfortunately, Gran liked to pry. “And what about friends? Have you made any nice friends?” She leaned toward me, patting me slyly on the leg. “Or met any nice young men? I bet there are lots of lovely boys in Durham.” I didn’t hate Gran for being like this. It wasn’t her fault. She had been raised to believe that it was a girl’s primary aim in life to get married and have a family. She had done just that when she was my age, and I think she felt very fulfilled because of it. Fair enough. You do you. But that didn’t stop me from being deeply, deeply annoyed.
