Rapport

He was such a lovely old man.

Now, on his death bed, his seven-year-old grandson was such a comfort during these final hours. Naturally, his children and all other relations were in and out continually, but the special closeness he felt for the young boy was something quite exceptional. They had built up a powerful yet completely natural rapport over the relatively short number of years they had enjoyed each other’s company.

The youngster was old enough to realise that all was not well with the old man. The wheezing was getting worse and his speech was slower, with words often being slurred and at times melding into one. The drawn, wrinkled face was losing its colour; time was getting close.

It was an extra special moment when the boy climbed up onto the bed and hugged the man in his dying moments. As he lifted his young head to look directly into the old man’s drowsy eyes, something passed between them. His grandfather gave silent thanks for all the times they had shared together. The boy, knew that all sorts of things would happen when his grandfather died; he’d heard several lengthy conversations between his parents on the subject.

He couldn’t help wondering if he’d be mentioned in the will…

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