Summer Dreams: Day Off
The little AU: Summer Dreams: Day Off
pferde
G
~~
An ordinary kitchen in an ordinary house in Kent, at noon on a Sunday in July. A woman is at the sink scrubbing potatoes, her son comes up behind her with a mug in his hand. "Here you go mum, nice cup of tea." He hands it to her with a smile. "You should put your feet up for a bit."
She smiles back at him. "Wish I could, but Sunday lunch won't cook itself. Put that tea down over there, let me do the spuds."
His smile becomes a grin and he takes the vegetable peeler out of her hands. "Here let me help."
Sonia ruffles his hair. "Well you daft boy, this is meant to be your day off."
"It is," he replies with a wink, sitting down next to her with his own tea. They're as alike as two peas in a pod; the same brown curls, the same sparkling chocolate-coloured eyes, the same warm, genuine smile. "You know what I think?" Orlando says after a moment's quiet thought. "What I think is the best thing about the work I do?"
Sonia shakes her head.
"It's coming home. Proper Sunday lunch, cooked by the best mum in the world, a nice cup of tea, and nothing else to worry about for the rest of the day."
Sonia blushes and smiles, the same warm, genuine smile that Orlando gives when he's signing autographs. "Best mum in the world? You make it too easy. You're the best son in the world." She gives him a kiss on the cheek and he resumes peeling the potatoes.
"Christ, mum, you're cooking enough to feed ten here," he says, frowning at the pile he's done, and the other pile still to go. "There's only you, Sam, me and Colin here and we're not going to eat all that lot." Sonia doesn't reply, just smiles, taps her nose with her finger, and sets about making batter for the yorkshire puddings. "What? You're plotting something, aren't you? Tell me."
Sonia doesn't tell. Instead she gives him a smile almost as mischievous as his own. She doesn't mention the phone call yesterday evening. He'll like the surprise.
Half an hour later, lunch is ready; roast beef on the table (set for six, not four), with roasted potatoes, steamed carrots, green beans and of course yorkshire pudding. Sonia is starting to glance anxiously at the clock and relief on her face is plain to see when the hired car pulls up outside the house. "Orlando, why don't you go to the door," she says.
He sees them getting out of the car as he gets to the door. Two familiar - very familar - faces. Orlando gives a whoop of delight; Karl and Viggo are tackled by a human whirlwind before they've even made it halfway up the driveway.
The best thing about work, even work you love, is always coming home.
pferde
G
~~
An ordinary kitchen in an ordinary house in Kent, at noon on a Sunday in July. A woman is at the sink scrubbing potatoes, her son comes up behind her with a mug in his hand. "Here you go mum, nice cup of tea." He hands it to her with a smile. "You should put your feet up for a bit."
She smiles back at him. "Wish I could, but Sunday lunch won't cook itself. Put that tea down over there, let me do the spuds."
His smile becomes a grin and he takes the vegetable peeler out of her hands. "Here let me help."
Sonia ruffles his hair. "Well you daft boy, this is meant to be your day off."
"It is," he replies with a wink, sitting down next to her with his own tea. They're as alike as two peas in a pod; the same brown curls, the same sparkling chocolate-coloured eyes, the same warm, genuine smile. "You know what I think?" Orlando says after a moment's quiet thought. "What I think is the best thing about the work I do?"
Sonia shakes her head.
"It's coming home. Proper Sunday lunch, cooked by the best mum in the world, a nice cup of tea, and nothing else to worry about for the rest of the day."
Sonia blushes and smiles, the same warm, genuine smile that Orlando gives when he's signing autographs. "Best mum in the world? You make it too easy. You're the best son in the world." She gives him a kiss on the cheek and he resumes peeling the potatoes.
"Christ, mum, you're cooking enough to feed ten here," he says, frowning at the pile he's done, and the other pile still to go. "There's only you, Sam, me and Colin here and we're not going to eat all that lot." Sonia doesn't reply, just smiles, taps her nose with her finger, and sets about making batter for the yorkshire puddings. "What? You're plotting something, aren't you? Tell me."
Sonia doesn't tell. Instead she gives him a smile almost as mischievous as his own. She doesn't mention the phone call yesterday evening. He'll like the surprise.
Half an hour later, lunch is ready; roast beef on the table (set for six, not four), with roasted potatoes, steamed carrots, green beans and of course yorkshire pudding. Sonia is starting to glance anxiously at the clock and relief on her face is plain to see when the hired car pulls up outside the house. "Orlando, why don't you go to the door," she says.
He sees them getting out of the car as he gets to the door. Two familiar - very familar - faces. Orlando gives a whoop of delight; Karl and Viggo are tackled by a human whirlwind before they've even made it halfway up the driveway.
The best thing about work, even work you love, is always coming home.