Nano Modern Myth 1.2.2

Disclaimer: I don't write kids often. I also don't write fights. Especially not this quickly. Enjoy!

II

Euan pulled the satchel towards himself, and carefully undid the straps binding it together. He drew its precious contents out, protected by a special case. He pulled his gloves off hastily, unclicked the fiddly locks and took the manuscript out from its protective bed of velvet. He held it in his bare hands, admiring anew the tarnished cover: thick and dark and ancient.
“What are you doing?” a child’s voice called unexpectedly from behind Euan, causing him to jump out of his skin.
“Jamie!” Euan replied, clutching a hand over his heart. “Good grief! You gave me a shock!”
He quickly snapped the manuscript back into its protective casing and thrust it back in the satchel.
“I’m sorry, Euan,” Jamie replied, digging his toe into the snow. He looked suddenly very sad.
“Come here, you silly-billy,” Euan replied jovially, leaning down and holding out his arms to him. “Give your big brother a great big Christmas hug!”
Jamie toddled over and wrapped his arms around Euan’s neck. Euan scooped him off his feet and sat him on the bench next to him.
“So, tell me” Euan began conspiratorially, “What’s brought you out this far, anyway?”
“Playing a game,” Jamie replied enthusiastically. “Do you want to play?”
“What game are you playing?” Euan asked, his tone cautious.
“Hide and Seek. I’m hiding. But you can come hide with me if you like,” Jamie said the last statement in a slightly wheedling tone.
“Isn’t it a bit cold for hide and seek?” Euan asked, rubbing his hands together theatrically.
Jamie shook his head, his eyes wide and earnest.
“Who are you playing with?” Euan suddenly asked, sitting up sharply and looking around himself suspiciously.
“Cousin Ronan,” Jamie replied in a slightly proud tone.
“Right,” Euan sighed, closing his eyes. “How long have you been ‘hiding’ for?”
Jamie shrugged.
“I see,” Euan’s lips pursed slightly. “How would you like to play a new game?”
“What game?” Jamie asked, his tone conveying an edge of child-like cynicism.
“How about the, ‘Walking back to the house to get a cup of hot milk and a biscuit’ game? It’s one of my favourites.”
Jamie laughed and clapped his mitted hands.
“You’re funny,” he replied. “Can I have a bourbon?”
Euan stood up, carefully slinging the satchel back over his shoulder.
“That depends, little bro,” he said earnestly, putting his hands on his hips. “Are you going to behave yourself?”
“Yes, Euan,” Jamie replied seriously, his eyes wide.
“Come on then, quick march!” Euan held out his hand to his brother, who took it and allowed himself to be lead back down the track.

***

Jamie scrambled up into the seat and Euan pulled it closer to the table for him. He carefully hung his satchel on a hook and then covered it with his coat and scarf, thrusting the gloves into the coat pocket. He then set about the kitchen, fetching a jug of milk from the fridge and a tin of biscuits from the top shelf, carefully positioned by the kettle. He set the milk to gently heat in a saucepan, whilst he filled the kettle to boil himself some water for tea. He got a pair of plates out and carefully lined up a bourbon biscuit on each.
“Do I hear the sound of the kettle boiling?” a voice called from an adjacent room.
“No, dad, you can’t hear anything of the sort! It’s all in your imagination,” Euan shouted back, just as the kettle made its final click.
Jamie giggled and clapped his hands to his face.
“I want mine strong with just a dash of milk!” Boris called back, the hint of a chuckle in his tone. “You know how I like it.”
Euan got out another two cups and placed them by the kettle. He dropped tea bags into two of them and a scoop of coffee into the third. He then carefully filled all three with the newly boiled water, just as the door swung open.
“Was that the kettle?” a woman’s voice asked him, her tone overwritten by cautious optimism.
Euan mixed a dash of milk in with the coffee and turned to face her.
“Here you are, mum,” he replied, holding the cup out to here.
“Ooh, you’re a life-saver,” Audrey murmured appreciatively, carefully entwining her fingers around the hot drink. “Is that one for your dad,” she asked, indicating one of the cups of tea.
“Yes,” Euan replied, pulling the teabag out with a spoon and dropping in a dash of milk. “Could you drop it in to him on your way past?”
“Certainly,” she said, picking the indicated cup up and heading back the way she had come. With a swish of cashmere, she had sashayed through the doorway and was gone.

***

“So what have you been up to?” Ronan asked, before depositing the second half of the biscuit into his mouth.
“I was out on a walk,” Euan replied through gritted teeth, “When I met Jamie here. He said you were playing Hide and Seek.”
Ronan shrugged.
“I’ve found you,” he drawled at Jamie, who was nibbling on his biscuit nervously.
“This doesn’t count,” Jamie asserted, his eyes wide. “We’re not playing anymore.”
“Oh, goodie,” said Ronan, rolling his eyes.
Euan clenched his teeth and gripped his cup tighter in his hands.
“So I hear that you’re bringing Penny to stay next week,” Ronan leered, slouching back in his chair. “Things getting serious aren’t they? For a quick fuck like her?”
Euan slammed his hand on the table and stood up.
“Come on, Jamie,” he said, “Let’s go set up one of your computer games.”
Jamie grinned and scrambled to his feet. Euan opened the door to the hallway and guided his brother through, casting a quick scowl back at Ronan before shutting the door. Ronan merely smirked and helped himself to the remainder of Euan’s half-eaten biscuit.

***

Euan strode back down the hallway, nearly running his father down as he emerged from the study.
“What’s the rush, son?” Boris said, mock-playfully, holding up his hands defensively.
“It’s that…” he paused to bite back a swear word, “… nephew of yours.”
“What’s he done now?” Boris sighed, rubbing his scalp thoughtfully.
“Swearing in front of Jamie,” Euan snapped out, clenching his fists. “And just generally being really… annoying!”
“He’s not here for much longer. He’s going to stay with some of his college friends over New Years.”
“Thank God,” Euan replied bitterly. “Can’t be soon enough for me.”
“And you’ll have your lady friend coming to stay too,” Boris added with a knowing look.
“Dad!” Euan exclaimed, not entirely sure whether to be amused or outraged by his father’s antiquated language.
“I know, I know,” he said, tapping a finger to the side of his nose. “I promise not to embarrass you.”
Euan chuckled. “You wouldn’t embarrass me, dad.”
“That’s what you think!” he replied, pretending to roll up his sleeves. “I’ve been in training.”
Euan shook his head, a broad grin sweeping across his features.

***

He stared at the peg he’d hung his coat on, covering his satchel. Perhaps that might have afforded it some protection from Ronan’s keen eyes. With a sinking feeling he noticed that his scarf, which he’d so carefully hung over the top, had fallen to the floor and been kicked against the wall. He rushed over and pulled his coat off the top of his satchel, throwing it aside and scrambling to undo its fastenings. He refused to believe the evidence of his hands, the sudden lightness of the bag. Not until he’d witnessed it with his eyes.
The satchel was empty.
He ripped open the back door and tore out into the garden, ignoring the searing cold that stabbed through his clothes.
“Your coat!” his dad shouted from behind him, but he ignored the call.
He ran round the side of the house, praying that Ronan would be where he suspected. The one place a man like that went when he needed to think.
He could smell the place before he could see it. Ronan’s smoking den. A semi-sheltered corner of the building, littered with the filth of his addiction. He tore around the corner in a rush and nearly charged straight into Ronan, leaning casually against the wall.
“Watch it!” he snapped in surprise, straightening up, holding his hands out defensively.
Euan paused only momentarily.
“Where is it?” he snarled, grabbing Ronan by the lapels and shoving him against the wall, his head impacting with a sickening crack. Ronan merely looked Euan straight in the eyes, cigarette still burning in his outstretched hand.
“You don’t know what you’re starting,” Ronan hissed at him, narrowing his eyes.
“Give me back my stuff or I’ll punch you’re damn skull in,” Euan spat, leaning his face in threateningly close.
With the nonchalance of practise, Ronan flicked his cigarette around in his hand and in one rapid movement, drove the burning end against Euan’s face. Euan yelped, letting go of Ronan and jumping backwards, trying to wipe the scalding ash off his cheek.
“You nearly had my eye out, you fucker!” he yelled.
Ronan pulled another cigarette out of his pocket and took out his lighter.
“You want to talk like civilised people?” Ronan asked, flicking a flame into existence with his right hand.