Got to start somewhere
There was a small town called Hookworth, just short of Gatwick airport. It was for the most part a tranquil place. But on occasions, it would get busy as the community was well known as a 'stopgap' place for tourists and other overseas travellers. Despite being a small place, there was no shortage of hospitality even with the additional people.
Furthermore, there was a range of care facilities. Many non-local people had formed unfair opinions on the multifunctional village. Calling it a 'place of death' which wasn't far off the truth, but not in the way these rumours were being portrayed to the ignorant. Hookworth had a higher percentage of over 50s in comparison to most areas in South East England. Many of the locals had known each other for years and had grown up around this quaint town. Additionally, many people had moved there due to the town's excellent reputation in care. They had two hospitals just on the outskirts of their town. They also were one of the few villages that provided a decent palliative care system. So yes it meant the town's death rate was high, but understandable. And the benefits to the community outweighed the one obvious inevitable drawback.
In the warm summer of 1970 'Ronnie’s' pub and the restaurant was open for business. The owner was in his late 50s and he had been running the place since his teens. He was struggling with his health and was given the bad news that he wouldn't get any better.
Ronald Flannigan, otherwise known as Ronnie, knew he had to retire soon. And had carefully observed which of his two sons would take over for him when he would leave his business.
He felt sad, not just because of his deteriorating health, but he had seen in the news that morning about a teen girl being found dead in a town just short of Hammersmith. Ronnie scolded himself as he was still around. He had seen the memorial of the young girl, and photos of her. She looked unkempt just before her passing and the news crew had concluded that she left her home after an argument with her dad. The family had recently dealt with the loss of an infantile family member.
He sighed, he now felt his issues were minimal in comparison to that tragic tale.
He called his two sons into 'Ronnie’s' pub, which is what it was loosely known as. Although the official name was Flannigan Arms.
His oldest son looked quite shabby, he was in his early 30s, but he looked like he wasn't taking good care of himself. He had gotten another alcoholic beverage from the bar, free of charge, courtesy of his dad. Ronnie rolled his eyes, he knew his son would take advantage of him. He had doubts about leaving his business and life works in the possession of his son Robert Flannigan.
Robert aka 'Bob' had issues, to say the least. When he was younger he claimed he saw a 'monster' around the time of the loss of a family member. He had not been the same since and his behaviour changed. His family did all they could to support him but never got to the root of his issues.
Ronnie, sadly, had to look at his youngest son, Rupert. He was well put together and in his early to mid-twenties. His hair was slightly messy, he had a fresh face and was always willing to help his dad out in the family pub. Ronnie felt guilty, as he didn't want to unintentionally disadvantage his oldest son by potentially leaving his pub to his younger brother.
But he had to think, while he was still in the earlier stages of his condition, Ronnie was warned that he would slowly deteriorate due to his condition.
It was the lunch deal, and Rupert had ordered a corn beef pie for lunch. He had offered to serve that day after he finished his food. Although his dad had a lot to discuss with him.
Once Rupert finished his pie, Ronnie called his sons over and his wife Valerie stood close by him.
He sighed, "there's bad news on my health, boys," he said sadly. Rupert seemed to pay attention, while Bob got another drink from the bar.
Ronnie continued, "I've been warned by doctors that my body is slowly ceasing to function. I've already noticed how much my ailment is interfering with me. I can't continue to run my business. The professionals suspect I have a form of body and muscular degenerative condition," he said sadly as his wife held him close. He looked like he could cry, but kept it together as best he could.
"They have said I'll be lucky to make it past three years," he gulped. Rupert looked devastated, as with Valerie. They knew he wasn't doing too well, but this was a major shock for the family.
Bob seemed to take a swig of his pint, then put the glass down. He seemed worried too and chimed in with his unusual suspicions.
“Will a monster take you away?" The 31-year-old man asked his dad, the family still found it unusual that a grown man would believe in 'monsters'.
Ronnie didn't want any drama so tried to answer as best he could.
"Well to be fair son, none of us knows what happens when we pass away. You have your beliefs considering you believe in what most would consider fiction," he said gently, Rupert seemed confused. "Is he on about the 'monsters' that 'hurt' granddad?" Rupert asked his father and brother. Valerie walked over. "Well no one hurt your granddad, he was very sick and it was his time to go," she said gently. Bob nodded, "I then saw a monster get clippers out and he pierced my granddad in the chest," Bob said, his family had heard him claim that for years. They didn't know how to deal with that, as it had been an issue he brought up since he was 8 years old.
"That sounds unreasonable Robert," Valerie said, looking stern. "How can you say such things when your father is dicing with death?!" She said, frantically upset. Bob scoffed, and got another drink. "Once again you don't understand me, so I may as well just leave!" Bob grunted.
Ronnie was used to this, and kept a calm manner. "Please don't leave Bob. I still have to make an announcement," he said, sighing gently.
Bob seemed to calm down, he had lit a cigarette in the meantime as his younger brother offered him and their mother a drink to calm their nerves. Ronnie had a clipboard in his hands. "I'm afraid that due to my health issues, I have to hand over my pub. I looked over the options. And I feel Rupert should take over after me," he said as the young man looked shocked. His older son started to scowl. "Wait, you are leaving the pub to Rupe?! He's barely gotten over his acne. And you want him to take over? Are you mad?!" Bob glared at his dad and brother.
"I'm so sorry you feel that way Bob, but Rupert’s contributed so much to Ronnie’s. While you have been taking advantage of this place. You order a lot of food and drinks here and have shown no interest in the management of Ronnie’s.
Instead you are always sharing your conspiracies to both our family and random patrons about ‘yellow-eyed monsters' coming to attack and kill people," Ronnie said knowing it wouldn't end well.
Bob scowled, "yeah because you lot never helped me get past my granddad’s death! You said you tried, but no one did enough! Now I'm being punished for it. And excuse me for making sure your granddaughter is fed while she's here. I'll be sure to have her go without next time if my family is that much of a financial drain. Or better yet, I’m out of here. You can keep your shitty pub, and pizza face is welcome to it!"
He ranted, his parents tried to step in, even Rupert tried to calm his older brother down. But to no effect.
"You'll be lucky if you even see me, Beth and Louise again! Leaving the pub to Mr Entitled over there who has no kids and no worries. I'm ashamed to be called a Flannigan!" Bob growled as he left for the door. He turned around and gave his family the finger. They were shocked, Bob had ranted before but this was on a whole new level.
"Go fuck yourself, dad!" He swore at Ronnie as he walked out the door.
The family were floored by Bob's outburst, although Ronnie had to continue with what he had planned. Valerie sipped the rosé wine drink she had in her hand. She sighed, feeling guilty about what just unfolded. “was I too hard on him? I know his behaviour is odd but I shouldn’t have spoken to him like that,” she said sadly. Ronnie shook his head, “don’t worry Val, he will come around. I knew he’d take the news badly. He will be back in a few days, heck maybe even a few hours. So none of you need to worry,” the older man said as he handed the clipboard to Rupert. There was also a custom made badge with his name on it. The young man was shocked and a little nervous. "Are you sure I can do this dad?" He asked Ronnie, the latter smiled.
"Well, got to start somewhere my boy," he said as he patted Rupert's shoulder. The young man carefully attached his badge to the green blazer he was wearing.
