"You've got fat, Sergeant!" Harris greeted Patrick Harper with satisfaction.

"And you're getting bald!" retorted the huge Irishman.

After a few seconds, they both burst out laughing and fell into each other's arms.

Ramona, who had just hugged and kissed their old friend so enthusiastically he had had a hard time escaping her embrace, now rolled her eyes, feigning disapproval.

"Will they ever grow up?" she asked Hagman, who stood next to her, a gentle smile on his face. Then, immediately, she realized her son was listening, and she frowned. "Patrick! Carry uncle Harris' luggage upstairs. Room two."

The newly appointed uncle grinned upon hearing what she called him.

"And tell Olivia to prepare a proper breakfast. I'll come and help her myself." Mrs. Harper was in her element. "Pat, why are you standing like that? Take the guest to his room, let him rest after his travel."Harris shook his head in amusement.

"You haven't changed one iota," he told her softly. "You look great too."

Ramona gently squeezed his arm.

"See, Pat? Maybe your friends could teach you how to treat a woman?" she snorted at her grinning husband.

"Want me to learn from him?" Pat retorted. "The only bachelor in this company?"

"Only?" Harris glanced at Hagman. "So your Sally waited for you after all?"

To his surprise, Dan hesitated for a long moment before he answered.

"She did," he muttered finally. "I'll bring you some water to wash up," he added quickly and left the room.

Harris raised his eyebrows, looking at the Harpers.

"His Sally died a couple of months ago," explained Ramona quietly. "Pat will tell you, I need to see to the breakfast." She followed Hagman, closing the door behind her.

The Irishman shrugged.

"There's not much to tell. She was walking back home, alone in the dark. She must have come across some robbers, and they stabbed her. Maybe they got mad when they discovered she had nothing to steal. Dan found her on the next morning. That's all I know. He wasn't too talkative, you know." Harper shrugged and turned his gaze to the window.

"So this is why he lives with you now?" Harris guessed.

Pat nodded.

"He's still grieving," he said softly, turning back to his friend. "I think Patrick is the only one who can still make him laugh."

"Still his favourite uncle, isn't he?" Harris smiled at his own memories.

"So he is, so he is." Pat chuckled gently. "See, when I tell him about the Peninsula, the little bugger just pouts and tells me I'm making it all up. Me, making things up, can you believe?!" The huge Irishman snorted, doing his best to show he's a paragon of honesty. Seeing the sparkle in Pat's eye, Harris thought nobody would have ever believed it, but he nodded anyway. "And then he goes to Dan and asks him for the same stories," finished Harper in an offended tone.

"You don't make things up, you just exaggerate," answered Harris jokingly. "And Dan has something every storyteller should have, you know?"

"A weird accent?"

"No, my dear Patrick. Modesty!"

Both friends burst out laughing.

"Come on. Patrick must have already taken your things to your room, and the breakfast will be ready soon. Don't tell anyone I said it, but Olivia is a much better cook than Ramona." Harper winked at his friend, and turned towards the narrow stairs that lead to the rooms located on the upper floor.

"Ah, now I see why you keep her. She's not the nicest thing around," Harris snorted, remembering the not-too-warm welcome. "Neither is she nice to look at," he added after a second.

"No," Pat agreed cheerfully, then he lowered his voice, as they were already on the stairs. "If she were, Ramona would've never hired her."

Harris chuckled.

"She knows you too well."

"Doesn't matter." Harper shrugged his shoulders. "Across the street, there lives a merchant with a daughter as pretty as the green hills of Ireland." He accentuated the 'hills' by moving his hands in front of his chest in a meaningful gesture. "I'll show you later, when Ramona is busy. I just need to find my old spyglass," he added with an impish grin.

"Watch it, or it may turn out your son is using it now," mocked Harris.

Pat just laughed out loud and sang quietly:

Some like a girl who is pretty in the face,

And some like a girl who is slender in the waist.

But give me a girl that will wriggle and will twist:

At the bottom of the belly lies the cuckoo's nest. [2]

[2] An actual British folk song titled "Cuckoo's Nest". You can find a couple of version's on YouTube.