u/HenryFloof29

[HR] Liver and Onions

The kettle screamed. The man shuffled in to the kitchen, his wrinkled hand reaching for the stove to turn off the gas. Cupboard, mug, counter, tea bag. Always Yorkshire tea of course. Grandad liked his tea strong, with a dash of real milk and half a teaspoon of sugar. Unless it felt like it was going to be one of those days, which today it did. He filled a teaspoon with sugar and stirred it into the steaming mug.

Everyone called the man grandad. The postman, the grumpy man in the greengrocers, the nice lady that walked the two spaniels every morning past his garden. And grandad didn't mind one bit.

He carried his mug of tea into the living room, picking up the post as he passed the front door, and sat himself into his comfortable chair. A bank statement, an advert for window cleaning, and another blasted letter about the bypass. He tore the latter into pieces and threw it into the bin. If the council wanted to demolish his garden to build a pointless bypass, they would have to do more than that.

Grandad was very proud of his garden. He lived alone in a small bungalow to the west of the village. His house was surrounded by fields, with only the narrow lane to his house to disturb him. He liked it that way. The garden was his pride and joy. He had thirty-six different types of roses, four of which he'd cultivated himself and hopefully another (if it wasn't demolished by aphids). He'd perfected his compost and would tell anyone that would listen that the perfect balance included a good amount of fresh manure, bone meal and dried blood. It often raised a few eyebrows but his roses really did like it.

The doorbell rang. Grandad moaned. It was definitely one of those days. He stood up and walked to the door. He could see a hi-viz jacket through the dappled glass. He groaned again. Not another one. This was the fourth this month. He opened the door.

'Good morning sir, I'm here about...'

'Yes, I know, the bypass. I've been waiting for one of you to finally come and see me.'

'Ah sorry about that, I thought a few of my colleagues had already been around but...'

Grandad shook his head. 'No, you'd be the first. Would you like to come in?'

'Yes sir. Thank you sir.'

Grandad led the man into the living room and gestured that he sit on the patchwork leather sofa.

'Tea?' Grandad asked.

'Ooh yes please, it's been one of those days! Milk and sugar if possible?'

Grandad sighed. 'I've only got this weird almond milk - apparently it's better for my cholesterol. Will that do?'

'Of course sir.' Grandad shuffled off to the kitchen.

The man in the hi-viz admired the sofa: it was made of beautifully soft, supple leather. He'd never felt anything like it. He made a mental note to ask the man where he bought it.

Grandad shuffled back through, two mugs of steaming tea in his hand. He placed one in front of the man. The man reached for it happily.

'So, what can I do for you?' Asked Grandad, sitting back into his comfortable chair.

'Well I'm here about the bypass. The plans have been approved and I'm here to inform you that we will be building approximately a metre and a half into your garden. I'm here as we need you to sign the paperwork to approve the demolition.'

Grandad shook his head. 'What about my garden? I've been working on it for forty years. My late wife loved it.'

The man shuffled awkwardly in his chair.

'Well with the new plans, we are recommending that you move to one of the new cottages in the village. We would cover all expenses, and we can even arrange for a gardener to transport the roses to the new garden.'

Grandad sighed again. 'Move house? At my age?'

The man shuffled awkwardly again.

'You'd be around friends, you'd even have a spare room in case family wanted to visit...'

Grandad sniffed.

'I have no family. It's just me. Not since my late wife passed. She loved this house. We had hoped to raise a family here. And the garden. I built that garden for her.'

The man shuffled again, sadly this time, then remembered.

'This sofa is beautiful by the way. The leather is exquisite. Where did you get it?'

Grandad smiled for the first time that day.

'I built it. I used to be a butcher back in the day, and learned how to tan leather in my free time. When I lost my wife I wanted to make something to remember her by. The softness of her skin, it was beautiful. So I made this. The softest leather I've ever made. It's almost like she's still here with me.

The man was touched.

'Do you still make leather goods?'

Grandad smiled again.

'I do. I use the spare room - what would have been the nursery - as a tanning room. Would you like to see? I rarely get to share it with anyone these days.'

The man smiled. Perhaps if he humoured the old man, he'd get the paperwork signed.

Grandad stood up and led the man to the spare room. He pulled out a small key - to keep the rats out he explained - and opened the door. The man walked in. The room was empty, except for a hide hanging on the left-hand side of the room, and a workbench with various tongs, saws and knives on the right. He noticed the floor was lined in lino. How sensible. He looked closer at the hide. Was that a tattoo?

Grandad shut the door with a click.

...

The doorbell rang. Grandad stood up and walked to the front door. He recognised the familiar shape of this daughter through the door. He opened the door with a smile.

'Hello darling. How are you?'

'Hello dad, I'm great, you're looking well! Something smells good - what's for dinner?'

Grandad smiled again.

'Liver and onions. My favourite.'

Meeting an armadillo!

Sevilla durance la Navidad

Bunny vet visit

[HR] Liver and Onions

Bunny besties 🐰

Eurghhhhh stupid Astarion.

Thank you stranger!