Alistair Raven and the Stormtrooper in Stilettos (Book 1)

Part 1 - Chatter 4

"Is it cool to know nothing?" Archie wondered.

"Yep." 

 Archie rolled his eyes.

"You gonna eat those peas lad?" he asked and Alistair went back to pricking the green balls with his fork. "In the war we'd have been honoured to eat all our peas."

Alistair laughed and Archie finally allowed a growling chuckle as he clamped a lid on to his tobacco tin.

"I thought you said you lived on corned beef during the war," Alistair prodded.

"Aye, we did lad," Archie replied. "Tins of the stuff. In the end we got so constipated, we were using the corn beef tins to load the cannons and shoot down the enemy."

"Mooooooo...Ker-splat!!!" they both laughed as Archie sat with his fingers to his temples pretending he was a horned cow.

Archie emptied the tumbler and his eyes glazed in reminiscence.

"I remember one night I was sent down to the arsenal to complete an ad-hoc stock take 'cause we were losing supplies hand over fist. And ol' Charlie and I found a case of unaccounted for tinned asparagus. Unpalatable, yes, but I tell you, we woofed it down like a feast. Your grandmother traded half-a-dozen tins for weevil ridden biscuits and a few jars of stewed rhubarb."

Archie patted his belly as Alistair turned up his nose.

"You always say you were stuck behind a desk during the war, how come?" Alistair pried. Archie shook his head in disappointment.

"I'm no hero lad," he sighed as a sad look crossed his face. "I leave that burden to men with a bloodlust and a sense of the absurd. I couldn't stomach any of the shenanigans. Your grandmother Claire, she was made of sterner stuff. Me, I preferred to push pens."

"But I can't believe you never saw any action," Alistair said a little disappointed as usual.

"You can believe what you like," Archie replied and Alistair persisted.

"New London was a battle field. What about Celebration Day? Surely you must have been around for that?"

Archie drew on his tobacco stick and squinted through the puff of exhaled smoke, shifting uncomfortably on his seat.

"On Celebration Day, I was out of town on assignment, so I didn't see anything. It was all over by the time I got home and then it was time to forget."

Archie accepted Alistair was always disappointed in his stories, but if truth be told, they were times he'd rather not openly discuss. There were scars, some of which never healed, and he didn't need his grandson picking at the scabs.

"Alistair, no matter what you think or what those old codgers downstairs want to tell you, war is no place for the weak hearted. Sometimes it's best to let things stay in the past where they belong. Some tales just don't need telling. Digs up all manner of memories one is better off forgetting."

Alistair sighed. It was the same old ending. He picked up his plate and took it to the sink and washed it as Archie tossed back the drink and poured another. His pop was boring compared to the veterans in the Quad who had more exciting war stories to tell. Their dashing and daring was unparalleled and far more fetching than a stores clerk counting boxes and always somewhere else when it really mattered.

Grinding out the tobacco stick, Archie stood and pushed his seat in. Stepping in to the living room, he selected a tatty book from the shelf and came back, holding it up.

"I know they don't give you enough reading these days. So you can start on this," Archie ordered. "In this weather, I don't want you going out. Keep your mind occupied, this will. You'll find sometimes other people's lives are worse off than yours, especially when there's stupidity about."

Archie placed his well-read copy of Death Threats From an Eight Year Old in the Seychelles on to the kitchen table.

"I'm going to have a kip," he advised, taking his tumbler before pointing in Alistair's direction. "And don't annoy Delilah."

Wiping up, Alistair looked out the kitchen window as the rain belted against the mouldy glass. Delilah's recharge ended and Alistair grimaced, conscious there was no slipping out now as she unplugged and put herself back in order. Delilah stared at him, her eye twitched ever so slightly; trying to calculate his intentions like a Guard on patrol.

Screwing up his face he knew he was sprung and in for a dull afternoon.