**Treasure Under Another’s Roof: A Tale of Gold, Cunning, and… Feelings**
Henry arrived in the countryside to visit his grandfather, Edward—partly for fresh air, partly to escape the city’s noise. But this time, he brought more than just a rucksack of clothes. Strapped to his back was a metal detector. Grandad squinted from the doorway, watching his grandson fumble with the odd contraption before finally asking:
“What’s that you’ve got there, lad? Gone fishing without a rod?”
“It’s a metal detector, Grandad. Nearly professional grade. Read online there might be gold buried round here. Fancy a hunt.”
The old man chuckled, gaze drifting toward the field beyond the garden. “Heard that tale from my own father,” he mused. “Reckon I even know where it might be. Trouble is—there’s a house on the spot now.”
Henry nearly bounced with impatience. “D’you think you could get me in?”
Grandad shrugged, eyes twinkling. “Might. But doubt they’ll let you dig. Even if you find summat, law says it’s theirs. Their land, their rights. Still… there’s another way.”
Henry frowned. “What d’you mean?”
“Their daughter’s home from London—Emily. Bright girl, good head on her shoulders. Bit shy, but not spoiled. Now *there’s* a treasure.”
“Oh, not this again! I came for gold, not courtship.”
“Who said anything about courtship?” Grandad laughed. “Make friends, mention your idea. Might convince her parents to let you scan the garden. Strike a deal if you find owt.”
Henry hesitated, but the gleam in his eyes held. “You’re *certain* it’s there?”
“Certain as my own name. Father swore it—some toff hid his fortune during the Civil War. Half the village tore up the fields hunting it. Then the house went up, and… poof. Gone.”
“And you *knew* all these years? Never looked?”
“How? Dig up the whole lot? Didn’t have a fancy gadget like yours. But now *you’re* here…”
“Right. So how d’I talk to this Emily?”
“That’s fate’s bit. We’ll stroll past ‘accidental-like.’ I’ll start jawing about aphids—see how they’ve nibbled the apple trees. You chime in, introduce yourself. Be a man, eh?”
Henry waffled but agreed. Ten minutes later, they lingered by the garden gate. Grandad prattled about pests with the owner while Henry locked eyes with the girl stepping into the yard—Emily. Chestnut hair, hazel eyes, a smile like sunrise. Suddenly, his mission blurred.
They talked. Walked to the pond. She enlisted his help fixing the grape arbour. The metal detector gathered dust in its case. Evenings, Henry returned to Grandad’s just to sleep. Gold never came up. Something richer had his attention.
A week later, he packed to leave. Grandad puffed his pipe on the bench, grinning. “Well? Find your treasure?”
Henry smiled at the twilight-streaked sky. “Aye. Just not the one I expected.”
“Told you, didn’t I? Real gold’s not in the ground. It’s in people.”
The detector stayed behind—draped in a tarp, forgotten in the shed. But Emily? She stayed in Henry’s heart.
*Lesson learned: Sometimes the hunt leads you where you never thought to look—and that’s the prize itself.*
