**Diary Entry**
The gate creaked open easilywell-oiled hinges made no protest.
Good old Bert, I muttered. Of course, it would be himwho else would look after the place?
I crossed the yard, dropped my rucksack by the porch, and wandered a bit before touching the round brass lock. The key Bert had one, but I didnt fancy fetching it. Too tired from the journey.
Then I rememberedfelt along the doorframe. There it was, dangling from a frayed bit of string. The key turned with a soft click, and the door swung open. The lace curtains fluttered lightly; Emily had stitched those herself.
I moved through the house without switching on the lights. The scent of home wrapped around me, sharp and familiar. My chest tightened, eyes prickling. Blast itmy pills were still in the rucksack. I fetched them, slipped one under my tongue. The hammering in my chest eased, though my temples still throbbed. No matter. Itd pass.
Just sitting herepeace, at last. Home.
A voice cut through the quiet. Whos there?
Its me, Alf.
Jim? That you?
Aye.
Whereve you been? Your Lizzie came by with some blokessaid you were in hospital, no word after.
Theyll be waiting a while, I chuckled. What blokes?
Dunno. City sorts. Lizzie was nattering, showing em round. Reckon theyre buyers.
Rubbish. Ill sort it. The missus has supper onfancy joining?
Nah, ta. Cheers, though, for minding the place.
Dont be daft. Alf shuffled. Ill fetch you a plate
Im home.
He leftas if Id vanish. This was *my* house.
I sat by the window till dawn, watching the sun climb.
Later, an engine growled outside. A car. Lizzie in something flashy? But strangers piled out, hauling bags and boxes.
Scuse mewhatre you doing?
We live here now, a little lad chirped.
The devil you do!
Bought it proper, a bloke said, hefting a suitcase.
From *who*? I slammed the door. They shoved back in, whinging about drafts.
Ill call the police! Useless. They muscled past.
Hinges need oil, one muttered.
Lizzie sold it? While I still drew breath?
The boyTomwatched me snatch a photo album. Grandad, you staying with us?
No! And neither are *you*!
They kept packing. My portrait came down. Last owners junk, the woman said.
I *am* the owner!
Tom offered a sweet. Whyre you cross?
They wont *listen*.
Never do, he sighed.
Then Lizzie arrived. I rushed her. Luv
She swept past.
She cant see you, Tom whispered.
Nonsense! *You* can.
He asked her: Do you see Grandad?
She paled when he described meright down to my old jumper.
So I spoke through him: Remember cloud-gazing from the plane? How you thrashed that lad, Danny, when you fancied him? His mum was my first sweetheart.
Lizzie froze. Dad?
He says he loves you. Always will.
The room stilled. Tears fell.
Later, on the bench, Tom said softly, Hes gone.
Lizzie clung to him. But hes near.
Then He says your Alice is having a boy.
*What?* The scan said girl!
Her phone rang. A nurses voice: Its a boy.
Lizzie looked up, smiling through tears.
*Thanks, Dad and goodbye.*
**Lesson:** Home isnt brick and mortar. Its the love that lingers, long after the keys turned.
