Page 9 of The Best of Times
“That is all right, isn’t it?”
He didn’t dare look up. Granny had a steely gaze that could make grown men give up all their secrets.
“Sure thing,” he replied, hopefully lightly. “More hands make light work and all that.”
“I thought so. You two got on so well in the pandemic,” she said. “It will be nice to be together again. Philip has been so excited to have him home. Oh, by the way, we’re having Christmas day with them too.”
“You’re full of surprises today.”
“Of course, if your parents invite you, I’ll understand.”
What a joke. “Ha. I’ve no plans with them. I’d love to.”
“I must say, you’ve beefed up since I last saw you.”
“Thanks,” he said. “New York agrees with me.”
She waved him away. “We have gymnasiums in London too.”
Aron rubbed his hands together. “Let’s hope Mr Higgs has come to work. This is going to get rougher than those war zones he likes to hang around in.”
“Don’t joke,” she said. “The Professor worries himself sick. He always has. Well, since Afghanistan.”
“Granny. That was donkey’s years ago.”
“Being a parent never stops, you know. That reminds me,” she said. “Let him choose the photographer. But don’t let him get too caught up in gritty realism. You know how he is.”
“He’s won quite a lot of prizes for gritty realism.”
“Not of my face, he hasn’t. Nor will he.”
“Whatever you say, Granny dearest.”
She positively glowed. “It’s wonderful to have you here. Did I say that?”
“You did. I don’t mind you saying it again though. I’m sorry I haven’t been home before now.”
His Granny got up and wandered over to the window.
“After everything that happened, I don’t blame you wanting to live under your own steam for a while,” she said. “It doesn’t stop me missing you.”
She peered out.
“I do believe it’s getting brighter. Come on. We’ll go for a stroll. Or would you prefer a proper cup of tea first? It must be quite some time since you’ve had one.”
Aron grinned. “I’ll manage a bit longer. I don’t want to waste a break in the rain if that’s what you want.”
“I can’t wait to show you off,” she replied. “Of course, Madeline Morrison has already seen you but what about Alexander? Oh and you won’t have met Jeremy yet. A lovely boy. Then there is Simon Harrington. I told you he’d come out of the closet, didn’t I?”
“You seem to have quite the collection these days, Granny.”
She came over and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. You’re still my favourite.”
Instantly he felt about twelve years old again. The smell of her floral scent and the calm she exuded. It was home.
“I should hope so,” he said.
She patted his cheek.
