HI HONEY, I’M HOME | Gavin Ireland
Jack Freeman pulled his BMW into the driveway. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. His shirt was crumpled, his shoulders knotted and he’d rarely been so glad to be home. He got out of the car and took a moment to relax and take in the neighbourhood. He had a smirk on his face as he did so; he was pleased with the neighbourhood that he and his wife had chosen to make their home this time. The immaculate lawns, painted fences and picture-postcard bungalows and villas created the perfect image of a happy life. Not a scrap of rubbish or a bin in sight. Each and every driveway he’d passed on the way had a sparkling new or nearly new car parked in it. Smug? Yes, just about everyone who lived in the Saint’s Hill Estate was pleased with themselves. Suitably relaxed, Jack grabbed his coat and briefcase, checked the boot was still locked and went indoors.
"Hi honey, I’m home,’ he called out.
It was a cheesy greeting, but it was a running joke between him and Shirley, his wife. They really were living the cheesy dream.
‘Hey baby, dinner’s nearly ready.’ She called back from the kitchen. Again part of the joke; he was the hunter, going out each day to bring back meat for the table and she was the home-maker, doing her part to make sure that he could relax when he got back from the chase. They were both skilled professionals and they could probably both be out earning a crust, but for now, at least, it suited them for Jack to go out to work and Shirley to take care of things at home.
‘I’m just gonna get changed and clean up hun, I’ll come through in a bit.’
Washed, and changed into soft jeans, a sweater and slippers, Jack wandered into the kitchen feeling like he’d left Mr Freeman the professional behind and was now Jack the husband. He saw his wife from behind, fussing over something on the stove, no doubt another culinary delight for him. Not a day passed by that he didn’t look at Shirley and thank some random deity for putting them together. He went up behind her, slipped his arms around her and hugged her tight.
"Mmm, I’m glad you’re home, I’ve missed you today.’ She purred.
"Not as glad as me.’ He replied.
She turned and they kissed passionately whilst squeezing each other tightly. It felt like they could stay that way forever, if it wasn’t for the dinner needing attention. They parted slowly and Jack sat at the table with a ‘not a care in the world’ grin. Shirley finished what she was doing and went
over to him, drink in hand. Whiskey mac, with plenty of ice, just the way he liked it.
"So how was your day?’ he asked.
"Pretty much normal.’ she replied. ‘I had to deal with a few pests, but that’s OK. You know Mr Johnson at number thirty-seven?’
"The elderly guy? Yes, what about him?’
"Well I had to go down to the pet store, our clippers aren’t cutting very well, I thought I should get some new ones. Anyway, I heard someone
complaining that his dog keeps crapping on his neighbour’s lawn and he’s too infirm to deal with it. I know he’s probably lonely, living there on his own, but if he can’t look after it properly, he shouldn’t have a dog. Someone should do something.’
"Oh, I’m sure someone will,” he said with a knowing smile.
"So how was your day?’
"Pretty productive actually. I got four contracts completed today, only small ones but four in one day is the most I’ve ever done.’
"Wow, how on earth did you manage to finish four off and still get home at normal time?’
"Well, part luck, part killer planning. I managed to deal with three of them together at the same time. The fourth was a pain in the arse, but I
got him in the end. Oh, I got meat for the deep freeze too. I’ll get it out of the boot after dinner.’
He drained the glass like a hardened drinker, which he wasn’t, and slid it onto the table. "Lovely, any chance of another one love?’
"I know you haven’t got work tomorrow, but don’t you go getting slaughtered,” Shirley warned him. ‘We’ve got the Stokelys coming over for lunch tomorrow.’
Jack laughed a little and put on a mock pleading face. ‘Please?’ he said, fluttering his
eyelashes.
Shirley faked disapproval and shook her head in mock scorn, then made him another drink.
"I’m thinking of taking a few weeks off hun,” he said as Shirley went back to sorting out dinner. “Closing these contracts is murder and I could
do with a break."
"Good idea babes, the bank account is healthy and the freezer’s full so why not. Maybe we could take the boat up to the lake for a week or two,
just you and me?’
"Sounds perfect honey. Just leave the phones and the laptop here and disappear for a while.’
"All the money and this comfortable life is no good if you kill yourself on the job, is it?’
"Well that’s settled then. I haven’t got any more contracts lined up for now, so how about we go the day after tomorrow?’
"Done, are you ready for dinner.’
"Yes please. What delights have you made for us today?’
Shirley was clearly pleased with the plates of starters that she brought to the table.
"Well to start we have a tossed salad with balsamic dressing and shredded Alsatian, courtesy of Mr. Lemmon at number forty-two and I thought we’d have a bit more of Miss Jacques with pommes dauphin and steamed vegetables for the main course.’
Jack licked his lips.
"Mmm, she was lovely.’
Jack Freeman pulled his BMW into the driveway. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. His shirt was crumpled, his shoulders knotted and he’d rarely been so glad to be home. He got out of the car and took a moment to relax and take in the neighbourhood. He had a smirk on his face as he did so; he was pleased with the neighbourhood that he and his wife had chosen to make their home this time. The immaculate lawns, painted fences and picture-postcard bungalows and villas created the perfect image of a happy life. Not a scrap of rubbish or a bin in sight. Each and every driveway he’d passed on the way had a sparkling new or nearly new car parked in it. Smug? Yes, just about everyone who lived in the Saint’s Hill Estate was pleased with themselves. Suitably relaxed, Jack grabbed his coat and briefcase, checked the boot was still locked and went indoors.
"Hi honey, I’m home,’ he called out.
It was a cheesy greeting, but it was a running joke between him and Shirley, his wife. They really were living the cheesy dream.
‘Hey baby, dinner’s nearly ready.’ She called back from the kitchen. Again part of the joke; he was the hunter, going out each day to bring back meat for the table and she was the home-maker, doing her part to make sure that he could relax when he got back from the chase. They were both skilled professionals and they could probably both be out earning a crust, but for now, at least, it suited them for Jack to go out to work and Shirley to take care of things at home.
‘I’m just gonna get changed and clean up hun, I’ll come through in a bit.’
Washed, and changed into soft jeans, a sweater and slippers, Jack wandered into the kitchen feeling like he’d left Mr Freeman the professional behind and was now Jack the husband. He saw his wife from behind, fussing over something on the stove, no doubt another culinary delight for him. Not a day passed by that he didn’t look at Shirley and thank some random deity for putting them together. He went up behind her, slipped his arms around her and hugged her tight.
"Mmm, I’m glad you’re home, I’ve missed you today.’ She purred.
"Not as glad as me.’ He replied.
She turned and they kissed passionately whilst squeezing each other tightly. It felt like they could stay that way forever, if it wasn’t for the dinner needing attention. They parted slowly and Jack sat at the table with a ‘not a care in the world’ grin. Shirley finished what she was doing and went
over to him, drink in hand. Whiskey mac, with plenty of ice, just the way he liked it.
"So how was your day?’ he asked.
"Pretty much normal.’ she replied. ‘I had to deal with a few pests, but that’s OK. You know Mr Johnson at number thirty-seven?’
"The elderly guy? Yes, what about him?’
"Well I had to go down to the pet store, our clippers aren’t cutting very well, I thought I should get some new ones. Anyway, I heard someone
complaining that his dog keeps crapping on his neighbour’s lawn and he’s too infirm to deal with it. I know he’s probably lonely, living there on his own, but if he can’t look after it properly, he shouldn’t have a dog. Someone should do something.’
"Oh, I’m sure someone will,” he said with a knowing smile.
"So how was your day?’
"Pretty productive actually. I got four contracts completed today, only small ones but four in one day is the most I’ve ever done.’
"Wow, how on earth did you manage to finish four off and still get home at normal time?’
"Well, part luck, part killer planning. I managed to deal with three of them together at the same time. The fourth was a pain in the arse, but I
got him in the end. Oh, I got meat for the deep freeze too. I’ll get it out of the boot after dinner.’
He drained the glass like a hardened drinker, which he wasn’t, and slid it onto the table. "Lovely, any chance of another one love?’
"I know you haven’t got work tomorrow, but don’t you go getting slaughtered,” Shirley warned him. ‘We’ve got the Stokelys coming over for lunch tomorrow.’
Jack laughed a little and put on a mock pleading face. ‘Please?’ he said, fluttering his
eyelashes.
Shirley faked disapproval and shook her head in mock scorn, then made him another drink.
"I’m thinking of taking a few weeks off hun,” he said as Shirley went back to sorting out dinner. “Closing these contracts is murder and I could
do with a break."
"Good idea babes, the bank account is healthy and the freezer’s full so why not. Maybe we could take the boat up to the lake for a week or two,
just you and me?’
"Sounds perfect honey. Just leave the phones and the laptop here and disappear for a while.’
"All the money and this comfortable life is no good if you kill yourself on the job, is it?’
"Well that’s settled then. I haven’t got any more contracts lined up for now, so how about we go the day after tomorrow?’
"Done, are you ready for dinner.’
"Yes please. What delights have you made for us today?’
Shirley was clearly pleased with the plates of starters that she brought to the table.
"Well to start we have a tossed salad with balsamic dressing and shredded Alsatian, courtesy of Mr. Lemmon at number forty-two and I thought we’d have a bit more of Miss Jacques with pommes dauphin and steamed vegetables for the main course.’
Jack licked his lips.
"Mmm, she was lovely.’