Chapter 14: The Bombshell
That weekend Frank paid Brandon a visit.
“Missed me?” he said.
Brandon was used to the question and was running out of smart arse ways to respond to it.
“More than my roller skates,” he said.
Frank kissed him. “And how much do you miss them?”
Brandon smirked. “Not very much.”
Frank slapped him on the bum.
“Let’s go for a picnic,” said Frank. “I picked up some wine and chicken. We can get some tomatoes and bread and make sandwiches.”
Brandon had been in the middle of writing end of term reports on the children’s progress. It was a laborious task, and one which Brandon hated. He wondered whether any of them would even be read.
“Sounds like fun,” he said.
They called in at the store at the side of the pub and bought the bread, tomatoes, some margarine and
