**Treasure Under Another’s Roof: A Tale of Gold, Cunning, and… Feelings**
Oliver travelled to the countryside to visit his grandfather, Arthur—partly for the fresh air, partly to escape the city’s noise. But this time, he hadn’t just packed clothes. He’d brought a metal detector. From the doorstep, Arthur squinted at his grandson fiddling with the strange device and finally broke the silence:
“What’ve you got there, lad? Planning to fish without a rod?”
“Grandad, it’s not a fishing rod. It’s a proper metal detector. I read online that gold was hidden round here ages ago. Thought I’d have a go at finding it.”
The old man chuckled, gazing thoughtfully toward the field beyond the garden. “Heard that tale from my own father, I did. And if you ask me, I reckon I know where that gold might be. Only trouble is—there’s a house standing on the spot now.”
Oliver nearly leapt with excitement. “So, can you get me in there?”
Arthur shrugged, a sly glint in his eye. “Might do. But I doubt they’ll let you dig. Even if you find something, by law it’d be theirs. Their house, their land. Still, there’s another way if you’re keen.”
Oliver frowned. “What d’you mean, ‘another way’?”
“Well, their daughter’s home from the city. Emily, her name is. Clever girl, good sort… modest, too. Now there’s a real treasure.”
“Not this again, Grandad! I didn’t come here for girls. I came for the gold.”
“Who said you didn’t?” Arthur laughed. “But treasure means different things to different folks. Befriend her, mention your idea—she might convince her parents to let you scan their garden. Find anything, and they might even cut you in.”
Oliver hesitated, but the spark in his eyes didn’t fade. “You’re sure the gold’s there?”
“Sure as I’m standing here. My old man whispered it to me—a hundred years back, during the war, some official buried his fortune while fleeing. Half the village turned upside down searching, but nothing came of it. Then they built that house, and the trail went cold.”
“And you’ve known all this time and never looked?”
“How? Dig up the whole place? Didn’t have a fancy gadget like yours. But now you’re here…”
“Alright. But how do I talk to this Emily?”
“That’s not for me to say—that’s fate’s job. We’ll stroll past casual-like. I’ll start nattering about the aphids ruining the apple trees. You chime in, introduce yourself. Be a man about it.”
Oliver fidgeted but agreed. Ten minutes later, they stood at the garden gate. Arthur struck up a chat with the owner, while Oliver locked eyes with the girl stepping into the yard. Emily. Chestnut hair, hazel eyes, a smile warm as summer. Suddenly, he forgot why he’d come.
They talked. Walked to the pond. She asked him to help put up a new awning for the roses. The metal detector stayed in its box. Every evening, Oliver returned to Arthur’s just to sleep. He didn’t mention gold or gadgets. He’d found something better.
A week later, as he packed to leave, Arthur sat puffing his pipe, grinning. “Well? Find your treasure?”
Oliver glanced at the twilight sky and smiled. “Found it, Grandad. Just not the one I was after.”
“Told you, didn’t I? Real gold isn’t in the ground. It’s in people.”
The metal detector stayed behind—dusted off in the shed. Emily stayed too… in Oliver’s heart.
