‘What?’
‘I’m serious,’ she said. ‘Slowly and painfully. Perhaps tie them up and cut off some fingers, make them scream and beg.’
‘But Grandma, I–’
‘Then they will really suffer.’
‘Actually,’ I say, quickly, ‘they’re not that bad, the girls at school. They just look at me funny. It’s okay, I’m okay, really.’
‘Good.’ She patted my arm, gently. ‘Just stay out of their way, sweetheart, and be kind to everyone.’
That’s more like the Grandma I know.