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“Hi, Gran,” greeted Johnny.
“Oh, hello, dear. How’ve you been?”
“Where’s Granda?” Johnny asked, noting his absence.
“The old fool’s out back. He’s fertilizing the roses.”
Johnny gazed through the window at the freshly dug raised beds. He could see no sign of his grandfather.
“He was always getting under my feet, making a mess around the place, and I’d had enough, so I thought I might as well get him to do something useful.”
Nervously, Johnny looked again at the garden.
His grandmother had joked occasionally about murdering her husband.
Grandfather appeared from behind the shed, pushing a wheelbarrow.

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