His grandmother was in the kitchen, making toast to fill the toast rack. The kitchen smelled warm and homely. The kettle was starting its hum as the water in it heated up. He went over to her and kissed her. She had a slightly stuffy sour close old-woman smell, but he didn’t mind.
“Morning Jason dear such a lovely morning but getting chilly now one always forgets that the seasons are back to front here but I love autumn it’s my favourite season like champagne or maybe sauterne and all the leaves.”
He smiled at her, filled with love, and finding even her disjointed chatter wonderful.
“I’m sorry about that blunder last night.” She was unusually direct.
He shook his head.
“Not to worry. I think I’m going to tell them. I trust them, and they trust me.” He smiled at her. “So it’s all right.”
“Yes but still sometimes I do ramble on and then I let things slip and I was enjoying myself so much.”