Return of the Sun - 18. Chapter 18

The moment she saw him she knew something was going on. It was like a sixth-sense he was certain she possessed but then that was an impression she always left him with. Gran was one of those women who could just look at a person and sum them up in a glance. And as she buzzed about her kitchen that morning smiling at him, he was certain she knew something.

"Coffee, dear?" she asked extending the small pot to him. One of the first things he had done when he had started work was go out and buy her a trusty coffee pot. And though she never drank it herself, she always ensured he had some with his bowl of cereal in the morning.

"Thanks," he said, accepting it gratefully while glancing over the newspaper beside him, one of the tabloids that his gran enjoyed reading. It was more gossip than news; but unlike the tabloids in the States that were mostly fiction, at least this paper actually tried to be accurate in its reporting.

"So," she said picking up a cloth to wipe down the breakfast bar, "you didn't tell me about your trip. Darren was by yesterday looking for you; he seemed surprised you weren't back yet."

Scott nodded, turning the page of the newspaper, and was greeted with a picture of a rather large-breasted woman that dominated the third page. He turned the page quickly. "The Rover broke down so we decided to stay an extra night and call the AA in the morning."

"Oh," she said, giving him an I-told-you-so kind of look. "Perhaps you should have your Uncle Ron look at it?"

Scott nodded, "I'll drop it off there today and walk to work; it was running fine until it started to rain..."

"Fat lot of good a car that doesn't run in the rain will do you here," Gran sniffed again. She seriously disliked the noisy Rover, more from the fact she just didn't like cars. Every time he had offered to give her a lift she had politely refused, preferring to walk. But then Gran didn't own a VCR, or a microwave. It was as if she preferred to do things the way she had always done them. The television was a grudging acceptance of modernization, more from the fact that Gran had watched Corrie since its first episode.

"Well," Scott said with a smile as he closed the paper, "I have to get to work." He scooped up his coffee mug and drained it, shrugging on his sports coat feeling glad that he could get away without wearing the suit now that he had settled into his job.

"Will you be home for tea?" Gran asked as she picked up his empty bowl and took the mug from him, already washing them and setting them to drain dry.

"No," Scott replied, "Zulee has me working late this week; I'm configuring his fax machine..."

She turned to look at him, "Just stand there a minute," she said, an odd tone in her voice as she dried her hands on a tea towel.

"What?" he asked looking down at himself. Nothing seemed out of place; slacks ironed, tie tied, and the blazer, a deep grey-blue that suited him, looked sharp.

"You just look so grown up," she said, a touch of emotion in her voice as she brushed down his lapels. "You're on your way now, you'll soon be on your own two feet and moving out again."

Scott blushed a little at the attention, "Thanks Gran; I mean that, thanks for everything..."

"Oh, you don't need to thank me, Scotty dear," she said dismissively. "Now get to work before you're late."

He looked at her with the same eyes that had idolized her growing up. She was like a stalwart bastion against the changing world. No matter what, she was a constant, the one that kept the family together and kept them all sane.

"Oh, before I forget," Gran said stopping him one foot out the backdoor. "Your Uncle Nigel and aunt Debbie are coming down from Nottingham this week."

Scott nodded. He hadn't seen his dad's brother in years and it would be great to see him again. Uncle Nigel had been the 'cool' relative; just young enough to still be interesting to the younger generation, yet old enough to be responsible. Aunt Debbie was one of those wonderful women, as well, with a great smile and a model's physique and nobody could work out exactly what she saw in Nigel, but it was undoubtedly love.

"Cool," Scott said before he closed the door behind him. He walked out to the Rover and climbed in, slamming the door twice to get it to latch. She started on the first try; whatever the AA mechanic had done it had worked, and Scott was soon running up South Road to Diplocks Way and Uncle Ron's garage.

Darren was covered in grease; barely eight-thirty in the morning and he had already gotten stuck in. He emerged from his bay, vainly wiping his hands on an oily rag that didn't seem to be helping his situation. He still had that sad look on his face as he watched Scott rumble up, and he leaned on the brush bar as Scott hopped down.

"Morning," he said, sounding tired.

Scott stuck his hands in his pockets, and nodded to the Rover, "She needs a look-over I think," he smiled. "And so do you by the looks of things."

"No, mate," Darren said shaking his head. "I'm okay, Mum just had me up at the crack of dawn today; you know what she's like." He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, smearing oil across his cheek, "Heard you got stuck in Kent."

"Something like that," Scott said blowing out a sigh. "Dare I ask how your trip home was?"

Darren winced, "Tense; you still up for that drink later? I tried to find you yesterday but Gran said you hadn't come back yet."

"Yeah," Scott agreed, "you could pick me up after work and bring the Rover back to me; I'll buy you a pint at the Martlet..."

Darren winced again, "Chances of running into Mauvais Herbe are a little too great at the Martlet..."

"Mauvais Herbe?" Scott blinked.

Darren grinned, "Fleur is French for flower; Serena decided after we'd dropped them off that she was no flower so we started to call her Weed."

"Right, then," Scott said with a nod. "We'll go somewhere else; I want to clear up that mess the other day."

Darren nodded, "I bet you do."

Scott bobbed his head, "Yeah, it's all a big misunderstanding."

* * *

Ben tossed a screwed-up paper ball across the desk, which bounced off his head, "Hey, space case!" he said with his usual grin, "you awake over there?"

Scott looked up from the pdf document he'd been reading, "Huh?"

"You haven't said anything in an hour," Ben grinned, "which is a world record for you." He shrugged, "Besides, without your distraction I'm actually getting work done, and well, that's just no fun at all."

Scott fought back a yawn; it was getting close to the end of the day, and he reluctantly peered into his empty coffee mug, "Nothing much to say, really."

"Well that's no good," Ben replied petulantly. "Here I am waiting to hear all about your dirty weekend in a camper with five other people, and you're not talkative."

"It really wasn't like that," Scott reassured.

"But it was a camping trip; if there wasn't an orgy what's the point?" Ben was teasing him, and Scott rolled his eyes.

"There was no orgy," Scott stated firmly. "We did have a nice day in Canterbury..."

"So, no orgy, but something did happen, right?" Ben pressed a gleam in his eye.

"Why the sudden fascination with my sex life?" Scott asked, looking up and shaking his head in wonder.

"Because I have none of my own," Ben responded. "I have to live vicariously through yours."

"Aren't you married?" Scott asked again.

"My point exactly," Ben responded, getting up and collecting Scott's mug. "Now when I get back, you're gonna tell me all about it."

Scott shook his head as he stood up and stretched his legs and followed Ben to the coffee machine, the pair stopping in the kitchenette. Ben examined the suspect contents of the coffee pot before pronouncing it toxic and setting about making a fresh pot. Scott hopped to sit on the edge of the counter, looking back through the offices towards the door.

He was startled when the door crashed open on Doctor Hanratti; the aging doctor had his customary examination bag tucked under his arm and a slightly harassed look on his face. "Alright where are the old biddies? Warn them no pinching this time because I brought toe tags and body bags with me."

The town doctors took turns visiting the home, each taking part of the workload needed to ensure the residents of Ashley Gardens got the best care. Though from what Scott had seen, whenever Hanratti visited, the female residents developed mysterious illnesses that often cleared up right after he left. Hanratti milked it for all it was worth.

He saw Scott and walked across to him looking him up and down, "I see you've been indulging in your gran's cooking. Good; you need to put on weight." He turned to Ben, "Mister Appleby, I'll take a cup of that when you're done with it."

"Yes, Doctor," Ben replied.

"And how is young Mrs Appleby; well, I trust?" Hanratti was looking about the office, and Scott noticed again that Zulee was notably absent. He always was when Hanratti visited, probably something to do with cheating on the doctor's prescribed diet.

Ben nodded his head, "She's fine, doctor."

Hanratti gave a cursory nod, accepting the mug of coffee and striding away from them heading deeper into the home, "Bring out yer dead!" he intoned loudly. "Come on, look alive there Mrs. Jensen..."

"Such an odd man," Ben said shaking his head after the eccentric doctor. "When I first went to him I ended up getting a full physical and I was only going in for prescription renewal."

"You're lucky," Scott replied. "All I wanted was a passport signature, next thing I know I'm being poked and prodded with an array of things..."

"Oh," Ben said getting a dirty look on his face, "bet you enjoyed the prostate exam..."

"You're a vile creature sometimes," Scott responded as they made their way back to their office. Scott chuckled when he saw Zulee slipping out of the main doors, making good his getaway. Both young men gave their boss a look of sympathy as he made a mad dash for his car.

"Five pound says he won't make it," Ben offered.

"You're on," Scott replied.

* * *

Darren picked him up in the Rover after work and the two ended up at the George, conveniently close to the Police Station. Scott had an idea to collar Luke after he was done his beat so had left a message that he would meet him at the pub when he was done.

Once they were settled into a corner Darren looked about him. "Bet you didn't know that Gran used to be a bar maid here when she was our age," he said knowingly.

"You're kidding..." Scott glanced around the pub that didn't seem that old, "wow..."

"Yeah," Darren agreed, "So you were saying this morning about a misunderstanding?"

Scott rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Yeah, Dickie mistook something I said to him when I was drunk for a come-on, now it's been blown all out of proportions."

"Fleur was pretty pissed about it; she doesn't like you much right now," Darren grinned. "Not that it's a bad thing or anything."

Scott sighed, "What happened when I was off with Serena?"

Darren grunted into his beer, "She was bitching about you mainly, and she kept whining that she wanted to go home. You know Dickie, whatever Fleur wants, she gets; the guy's like a walking doormat."

"With a big mouth," Scott commented dryly. "I didn't hit on him, I just want that clear."

"It's okay," Darren said shifting in his chair. "Just killed the weekend though; I wish Dickie'd just kept his trap shut instead of spoiling it for the rest of us. I was really starting to make progress with Serena, too..."

Scott winced inwardly, uh-oh.

"What?" Darren asked with a sly grin. "Girl like that, 'course I'm interested. She's all exotic and the like." He developed an almost dreamy look on his face, no doubt imagining things with that overactive mind of his.

Scott gritted his teeth and made a face, "Ok, there's a mental image I didn't need."

"Hey," Darren said resting his elbows on the table, "do you think if I asked her she'd go for it?"

"I don't know," Scott replied honestly.

"Could you...you know... you and her are best mates." Darren had the look of a hopeful teenager in love on his face and Scott didn't have the heart to tell him about what he had seen over the weekend.

"I'll try..."

"Hey," Darren said switching topics suddenly, "how'd you handle being stranded in Kent with Luke? I know he's not the easiest bloke to get along with."

"Well," Scott said, "we found we had something in common and it kind of went from there."

"Great,' Darren said. "He's a good bloke; bit low on the social graces but decent enough."

"So I noticed," Scott replied, wondering if he should just tell Darren or wait for Luke. Blessedly the off-duty policeman in question entered the pub sparing Scott from anymore worrying.

Luke saw them both and inclined his head as he joined them, sliding into the booth beside Scott, and under the table nudging Scott's knee twice with his own. The physical contact made Scott blush a little. "Alright then, lads," Luke greeted tapping his hands on the table.

Darren gaped at him a second; Luke was smiling openly. "You okay, mate?" he asked, staring in wonder at Luke's odd facial expression.

"I'm fine," Luke said settling back into the bench, more of his leg pressing up against Scott as he did so.

Darren stared at him strangely for a second of two, "You sure? You're...well...happy..."

"I should be," Luke said looking at the pair of nearly empty glasses. "Looks like you two are nearly done, round on me?"

Darren looked distressed, "Right, now I know something's wrong."

Luke sighed as he leaned over the table, "Ask your cousin," he smirked to himself as he abandoned Scott to a very curious Darren.

"Oh, you son-of-a-bitch," Scott shot after him, as he looked back at Darren.

"Spill it, shorty." Darren demanded.

Scott smiled, "You... well...I..." he stuttered, not exactly sure how to express himself at that moment. He swore to himself, "Ok, well, it's just that..."

Darren's jaw flopped open, and Scott knew that he had guessed. He turned and looked over at Luke who had paid for their drinks and was returning with them, "No!" he exclaimed in a hushed issuance of shock.

"Yeah," Scott nodded.

"No!" Darren shook his head incredulously, turning as Luke sat down. "No!" he laughed, shaking his head even faster.

"Yeah," Luke said screwing up his nose. "Disgusting, isn't it?"

"No!" Darren was stuck speechless, with only one word to express his disbelief.

"Yeah," Scott said; this was becoming a very repetitive conversation.

"You're having me on!" Darren decided. "This is where you both say that..." he looked at their faces, "you're not having me on, are you?"

"Nope," they both replied together.

Darren blew out a ragged sigh. "Shitty death!" he exclaimed loudly, "Mum's so gonna have a fit when she finds out."

"Speaking of finding out, Griff," Luke leaned across the table, "I'm only telling you this because you'd figure it out eventually anyway."

"You have my word," Darren swore solemnly. "Not a word about it... Christ, you of all people," he said, looking straight at Luke and still blinking in disbelief.

Luke shrugged;"Tell me about it." He looked at Scott and under the table nudged him again twice.

Darren caught the motion and glanced under the table, "Ok, now I know you're not fucking with me... Christ." He swore again, and then he grinned at Luke, "'bout time you got some."

"Hey!" Scott exclaimed.

Darren winked at him and leaned across the table. "So what's it like?" he asked teasingly.

"I am so not having this conversation with my cousin," Scott declared adamantly.

"Oh, I'm just pulling your leg," Darren said, waving him off. "I'm all about the minge." He licked his lips in a way that made Scott want to cringe in disgust.

"Ok, now I know it's time to change the subject!"