A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 66 Storm Éolwenna

Alf was smiling as he said, “Gee, the bottom line for us here is your missus, despite being like all women a pain in the arse from time to time, is a good lass. Trust me she was nay different when she was a little lass, feisty didn’t even nick the edge of it. I mind when she first started learning to weld with me, four stone wringing wet through, [25Kg, 56 pounds] and scarce taller than my knees she was. That day she ran into my workshop to escape from some lads as were bullying her. She’d a bin seven and was wearing a summer frock. One of the boys followed her in. I’d never seen a fifteen year old lad laid out cold by a little lass with a tyre lever before. That’s many a day back, but you can still see where she brock his jaw in three places. No bugger ever tormented her for being trans and wearing a frock after that. Samantha is a good Bearthwaite lass. She’s an excellent wife and an even better mum. I don’t even want te think on what she’d do to any as threat her kids, and that’s what counts.”

Chapter 7: First Sign of Trouble
I awoke on a tranquil Saturday morning, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet scent of warm pancakes. This delightful fragrance wafted through the air like an inviting melody, gently coaxing me from the depths of my dreams.

As I sat up, sunlight cascaded through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft golden glow across the penthouse like a warm embrace. In the corner, Millie and Rory lay sprawled on the floor, tucked beneath a shared blanket that enveloped them like a cocoon of comfort.