Alistair Raven and the Stormtrooper in Stilettos (Book 1)

Part 3 - Chatter 2

In limbo, Alistair sat alone. He wanted honest counsel; he needed a hug. Julian walked past the open door, his shoulders stooped. In the short time Alistair had known Julian, he had never been anything short of effervescent. Calling Julian's name, the bohemian returned and stood in the doorway. He may have been down in the dumps, but he was still immaculately accessorised and manicured and absentmindedly spun the bangles around his wrists, smiling weakly.

"Pardonnez moi?" Julian flittered, his joie de vivre absent. Alistair felt one inch high having caused his host so much grief and it took a second for his dry throat to squeak out the words.

"I'm sorry," Alistair said, cutting to the chase. "I got you in big trouble."

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions," Julian shrugged. "You have to take your fair share of bumps and bruises along the way. Life's like a cup of tea...one lump or two?"

"Still...I am sorry."

"You've won me back, so apology accepted, darling," Julian diffused, over-riding Alistair with a flashing smile. In a blink, he was back to the normal Julian Essex. "Anyway, I wouldn't change any of it for the world. Well...perhaps the part where I lost my car, was bundled up by a heinous witch, found myself involved in a fire fight, lost the lives of several soldiers and had my fur coat ruined with sewer gunge."

Alistair withered under the guilt of the soldiers' deaths.

"You weren't to know," consoled Julian.  "Life in fatigues is a dangerous one.  It's not all daring do and Boy's Own adventures."

"I feel terrible."

"Good," nodded Julian.  "It was such an awful waste."

They remained silent for a long moment and Alistair swallowed away tears.

"Keep it real, keep it raw.  Now, let's move on, shall we.  You have tremendous heart Alistair," Julian counselled. "But before anyone does anything silly again, I'll consult my QC. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Alistair conceded, not really knowing what a QC was, but if Julian had one, it must be alright.

"Now," Julian clapped his hands together, "there are many things to plan for if we are to evac."

"Evac?" Alistair asked, sitting up. It dawned on Julian the boy hadn't been told the news.

"I'm sorry, but Malachy's Christmas soirée is one party we shan't be crashing. Time to retreat."

"Pardon? When was this decided?" Alistair exclaimed. "We can't give up."

"Give up what?" Chelsea asked as she shuffled in, loosely wrapped in a gauze blanket.

"Can someone please explain what you are doing out of bed?" Julian demanded. Chelsea gave him a piqued look of indifference.

"Julian says we're retreating," Alistair told an unimpressed Chelsea.