A little slip on a dribble of cooking oil she hadn’t noticed spilling…and wham!…a broken arm.
Parker had driven her to the hospital last night and brought her home early this morning with it in plaster.
Now how was she going to do breakfast?
She’d try but…
‘Lil? Luv, are you h’ok?’
‘I’m fine, Nosey.’
‘You’re not. Let me…’
‘You can’t cook!’
‘That h’ain’t…that h’ain’t wot I was gonna say.’
Carefully Parker took Lil’s good arm and gently led her to sit at the large kitchen table, and made her a cuppa.
‘Let me take care of you this time, Lil.’
He nudged her gently.
She smiled.
‘You direct an’ I’ll cook.’
When Penny came down there was no difference in her breakfast. If she noticed that Parker was more tired than usual she didn’t say anything. Once she’d finished, though, she gave Parker a pause and a look.
‘And how is Lilian?’
‘She’s good, m’Lady.’
‘Hire her granddaughter and tell Lilian to take the next six weeks off.’
‘Very good, m’Lady.’
‘And Parker - take two weeks off yourself.’
‘Thank you, m’Lady.’
Parker’s surprise made Penny smile privately. Maybe Alan would like to chauffeur her around…
Scott was sitting on the floor in the middle of the corridor, leaning back with his hands resting on his knees, staring into space. His father might have asked him nicely to just step outside, but Scott knew a dismissal when he heard one. He had told Jeff all that had happened with the bodyguard, slowly watching his father's face cloud over. Whilst he knew that his dad might have been distant of late, there was no way he was going to put up with anyone hurting, or even threatening to hurt, one of his sons. Scott also knew that whilst Jeff realised Oscar's true nature now, the man was going to make sure that the child was not being harmed in any way. Swinger's face had clouded over and he had looked like thunder when he realised what Jeff was implying, and that was when Scott had been all but thrown out.
Deciding to stick around just in case they wanted to know something else (not that Scott knew anything, he was mainly just curious to see what would happen), the teenager had slid down onto the floor, beginning to get bored of waiting. It didn't help that he was hungry. He just hoped that John had done what his older brother had asked of him and got the younger ones food by now. If not, no doubt Alan was having a full blown tantrum. Gordon would simply sulk and Virgil... Scott blinked. He should have gone back to the restaurant, he should have checked that Virgil had turned up. He had seen the prints in the sand, knew that Virgil had walked away swiftly from where he had been. If Oscar was with him, Scott knew his brother would have tried to get back to them as fast as possibly, not wanting to be left on his own with the brat. No doubt he had lost track of time when painting, and then all but run to meet the others, meaning that Scott had most likely just overreacted and they had simply missed each other by going different routes.
But even as he heard the voices in the room behind him rise yet again, Scott shifted. It wasn't anything to do with the fact that it was so uncomfortable sitting on the floor, but something else. There was something he couldn't put his finger on, something that didn't feel quite right. Telling himself it was just the bodyguard shaking him up more than he would ever admit to anyone, Scott sighed, the boredom growing. He wondered what the others were up to - probably wondering where he had got to.
@whumperless-whump-event Day Nine: Dropping Like Flies: Multiple whumpees / Caretaking while sick or injured / "I'll get some rest soon, I promise."
Thunderbirds. Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, Alan & Lucy Tracy. 100 words.
~
Gordon brought it home.
He gave it to Alan.
Who shared it with Scott.
Who passed it to Virgil.
John wasn’t going to be left out.
Soon Lucy had all of her boys out with the flu.
She wasn’t too well herself, but that didn’t matter.
She checked on them continuously, plying them with meds.
‘Mom – cough-cough – you need to rest. You’re sick it too.’
‘I’ll get some rest soon, I promise Scooter.’
But she didn’t. Couldn’t.
And then Scott dragged himself out of bed to find her slumped on the kitchen floor.
Virgil could hear crying coming from just over to one side of him, but stubbornly refused to open his eyes. He had been awake for some time, and judging by the noise, so had Oscar. He knew their attacker must be around, yet the solid door made it apparent they weren't getting out even if he wasn't. The one time that Virgil had let his eyes crack open slightly, his heart had almost jumped out of his chest in terror. His hands were tied around the leg of what he assumed was some kind of desk. Despite the drug making him feel groggy and sick, he had still tried tugging at it but it hadn't so much as given a millimetre and he knew that there was no getting out.
"Shut up!" the distorted voice hissed, and Oscar's sobs hitched even as Virgil felt his heart pounding. Had the man been in here the whole time, just staying quiet and watching from out of Virgil's sight, or had he come back and the ten-year-old just not heard him? Either scenario caused Virgil to struggle against his own emotions as a couple of tears slipped silently down his face. Hearing a yelp, Virgil decided to risk it and opened his eyes a fraction, just enough to see what was going on. Compared to last time he had looked around, things were in his line of sight now. He could see the man's legs from where he was standing just to one side, and he could just about make out the form of Oscar on the floor, bound to the other end of the desk in the same way that Virgil was.
But as he blearily watched – mildly wondering how Oscar could be so loud considering he had been drugged after Virgil and the artist thought that his head was going to explode – the attacker crouched down. Judging from what Virgil could make out, he was untying Oscar. But whereas Virgil would have instantly opted for the struggling option, Oscar did the opposite. He stayed limp and still - until the man reached for him. Then he screamed as loud as he could, even making Virgil cringe slightly. Immediately, the man clamped his hand over Oscar's mouth, and Virgil could see by the way that Oscar's whole body was shaking that he was sobbing again.
He grit hit teeth as he tried to keep in the cries that forced their way out of his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, but tears still broke through. He tried to not move, silently hoping that it would help the pain, but it didn’t.
A couple of hours were spent taking in all the sights and sounds of the car show. Alan would have gladly parted with solid cash if any of the cars had been for sale. Scott has patiently pointed out that Tracy Island didn’t have any roads to drive a car on. Gordon had suggested converting a vintage car into an adult version of the car shaped beds that every kid dreams of. Gordon got another smack to the head, sources unknown, for suggesting such sacrilege.
On the flight home Jeff was buzzing, nearly as much as Scott, who had somehow managed to procure a worryingly large bag of Toffees. Virgil drew the line at home dentistry, so Scott was on his own with that one.
Their father was rattling off his plans and ideas, dictating things to John, who had been pressganged into a temporary assistant role. Although he put his foot down at Jeffs suggestion that John should attend next months town events committee meeting in order to take minutes. EOS offered to go in his place, but they were all a little unnerved by the giggle that had accompanied the offer.
Alan had been tasked with researching vintage airplane groups, Gordon had been set to collating a shortlist of local bands and also suppliers of marquees. Virgil had only been left out of the taskforce because he was piloting, and he was doing it very intently. Scott was making a good show of being a very hands on copilot. If anyone had looked closely they may have spotted him turning off some of the automatic functions just so he could manually operate them. Fortunately the other occupants of the cockpit were being kept far too busy to possibly comment. Scott risked a shared glance across to Virgil, who had also not switched to auto pilot yet, and got the briefest of winks in return. It was nice to see their father so ….Alive? Even so, Scott didn’t much fancy getting caught up in the slipstream. He was more than willing to throw some younger brothers under that bus for now.
It was agreed that Jeff would be going back at least once a month to help progress the communities expanding plans for the future. The brothers had agreed to rotate the taxi duty. Jeff had offered to fly himself, but several objections had been made. Although, the only reason given that held any water, was that each of the brothers would quite like to have the time with their father, and that nearly caused a whole different type of waterworks. By the time they made it back to the island all the kinks in the plans had been worked out, and Jeff's todo list had been listed by priority and colour coded and his online filing split into subcategories with file names other than “planning”. Things were looking up.
End Note
Mike was able to impress some potential clients and soon had a steady stream of cars coming in for bespoke refurbishment. He was able to employ a wider team, and a few years down the line he was instructing apprentices and offering training courses and keeping the old skills alive.By the time Little Nicky was eyeing up potential colleges, Mike had managed to put aside a comfortable college fund.
End Credit schene
Kayo woke gently from a timezone correcting nap, the sunlight having crept steadily across her bedroom floor. She could hear the sea lapping against the shore, a spattering of birds flitting through the top notes and…….and nothing else. Which was odd, uninterrupted peace and quiet was rare with all the personalities calling Tracy island home. Pushing the covers off herself, Kayo went to gather more information. Gliding stealthily down corridors she paused at closed doors before cautiously pushing them open. Nothing. No Alan punishing the game controller, tinny overspill from his over ear headphones hinting at the battles taking place. No Virgil tapping a rhythm out with the toe of his boots, or the tinkling of paint brushes swirling in a cup of cloudy paint tainted water. No muttered curses, that Scott would have been mortified to find out weren’t as inaudible as he thought.
Even John's room was free from the high pitched squeak that emanated from the constant movement of his swivel chair. No matter how many times Virgil greased the casters, one of them was usually complaining about the overuse. The eternal multitasker, even when earthside, John would have multiple things vying for his attention at any given moment. After one too many times tripping up over his own feet, whizzing between work stations was the obvious solution. But not today. As rarely occupied as it usually was, it shouldn’t have been noteworthy, but somehow today it just added into the list of things that just didn’t add up.
There was no splashing from the pool, a pair of binoculars confirmed that Gordon wasn’t down on the beach The only upside to his atrocious taste in clashing patterned beach towels, they did make it easier to pinpoint his last known location. Having searched the upper levels, Kayo drifted out to the poolside, where she had spotted Grandma Tracy ensconced on a lounger, resplendent in her purple jumpsuit, and surrounded by an assortment of little occasional tables all laden with things she considered essential.
“Where is everyone?” Kayo asked the reclining purple clad figure.
Grandma shifted enough to lift a cucumber slice off one eye, allowing her to squint up at Kayo.
“No idea,” she shrugged, “isn’t it peaceful?!”
“Should we be worried?”
Sally reached over to a side table, and extracted a portable holographic comms unit from in amongst a selection of drinks and snacks. She squinted at the screen “Well, theres been no emergency call, they’re all together….somewhere,” She turned the display 90 degrees, plucked the other slice of cucumber off and popped it in her mouth. “.... and nobody’s injured. That's good enough for me!”
Kayo was reassured, but still it felt wrong, as head of security not to have a little more context. She opened her mouth to voice some of this, but Sally carried on. “What I do know is that only one tub of caramel ripple cookie chunk ice cream came back on the last supply run, and one tub does not go far……” a wicked little grin spread across her face, and was soon mirrored on Kayos. Putting her speed and agility to good use, Kayo sprinted to the kitchen, for the sake of island relations she would remove the potential catalyst for conflict from the equation. She grabbed two spoons and two bowls, and was just about to head back up to the pool deck when she tapped a quick message on her comms, and added an extra bowl and spoon.
Brains joined the women on the patio just as the ice cream reached the perfect scooping temperature. Caramel cookie chunk impartially divided, the present occupants of Tracy Island were able to sit back in companionable silence and watch the sun set, with only Max’s quiet warbling to compliment the evening birdsong.
