When we got to his house I looked around, it was a nice bungalow in a quiet cul de sac with views across the estuary to the harbour on the other side....Inside it was as you would expect of a house owned by an older person. Everything was clean, tidy, with a slight musky smell. It reminded me instantly of when I visited my grandparents’ house as a child. ?Nice pad? I remarked checking out a hand drawn print on the wall. ?Thanks.? He replied ?Drink? I’ve got tea, coffee, lager or orange juice if. ’ Amar grumbled. ‘You’re the one who wanted to put her in that fancy school.’ ‘Education is something I will not compromise on.’ he said. ‘Designer shoes on the other hand…’ ‘She threw an almighty tantrum right in the middle of the store!’ ‘How much did they cost?’ ‘Not too much.’ ‘How much?’ ‘Five hundred.’ Mansi lied, not wanting to tell him about Reena aunty. She knew her husband was really big on self-respect, self-reliance, and pride. ‘You could have just refused to buy them.’ Mansi felt. He had passed up several promotions and most folks felt that now in his early fifties, he would probably retire as an AVP in his beloved inventory unit. What they didn’t know was that Sid over the years had turned his department into his personal Venus flytrap. More than one young lady trainee had been cycled through his department for inventory training only to end up wiggling ass in his face and begging to be fucked. Problem was, most of them were fairly nice kids and having bit of a warm. If they only knew!They were interested if I was going to re-enlist. I said, "No, not even if I got another promotion." I had been in the sandbox too long. We will always be at war in the sandbox. They agreed and gave me a list of numbers for help if I needed it when I got home and their personal contact numbers if I needed to talk to them.At noon we went out to parade grounds with the other 5000 or so soldiers that were being rotated out. My family and Betty's family were seated in the section.