The family man

Chapter 7

Harry notes the sarcasm in her tone. 

"So, do I get like a receipt or something." 

The lady cocks her eyebrow at him again. Harry feels a little intimidated by the way she was looking at him like he's crazy. 

"I guess not."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The mini-van parks to the drop-off point at this suburban tiny looking school. Harry remembers this place. This was where he studied when he was in primary school. It was the nearest school from his house and it has a decent educational system. It's no Eton. But it'll do for a tiny town like Holmes Chapel. 

Conner opens the door. 

"I have winter camp until four, then I have music until five thirty," says the kid loudly. 

"Five thirty. Got it, boss"

Conor sighs. Harry is almost shocked how similar their habits were. He had seen that expression on himself many times before. 

"Try not to be late. because kids don't like to be the last one picked up. My real daddy is never ever late." 

"Got it, boss." 

"Bye."

Harry watches as his eldest jumps from the car and then it hit him. "Hey, Conor. Where do I go now?" 

Conor stops and turns back towards him. "Go to grandpa's. Bobby's." 

"Bobby's. Bobby's Butcher? What am I doing there?" 

"That's where you work, silly."

And Conor disappears, running towards the school. 

"I fucking sell meat. Fuck," Harry sighs. "Fucking. Fuck. That's what I do. I sell meat." 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Harry was driving down the commercial street in downtown Holmes Chapel when he spots something that he wished he hadn't seen down the road. A huge, two story cheap plastic meat structure in bright pink neon lights with the word Bobby's written across the t-steak. 

Bobby's Butcher.

"Good lord." 

Harry enters the store. It looked like as if he had teleported to Turkey and was walking down those ancient souks where they sell meat in small crowded stone buildings. A large picture of a cow with its parts highlighted with the names of the parts highlighted. Then a picture of a lamb. Then a list of the pricing of the meat. Harry nervously plays with his hands as he approaches the two men wearing the same clean white apron and grey uniform.