The Lower Strangling Chronicles
It was that time of year again; the anniversary of the birth of a boy currently 46 years-ago. It was an anniversary that only two people really cared about; the boy’s parents.
The boy himself; now business magnate Patrick O’Brien, did not particularly care for his birthday, mainly because his parents used it as an excuse to get in touch with him.
The day began as it usually did, with Patrick’s loyal and long suffering servants giving him various presents and cards, which Patrick accepted reluctantly.
Then, last but not least, Patrick’s man servant Cordell would give him another card; a card from his parents begging him to be a part of the family again, which Patrick would throw into the fire.
This time, however, a present came with the card.
“Throw it away, Cordell, and burn the card,” Patrick said. “The £25,000 is enough.”
“Are you sure you want me to do that, sir?” Cordell said. “You know how much you like reading the card from your parents.”
“I don’t,” Patrick said. “I hate my birthday, but I particularly dislike my parents’ pathetic attempts to worm their way back into my life, despite me well and truly leaving my childhood behind.”
“But you still read the card,” George Blyth, Patrick’s Personal Assistant, said. “Every year, you tell us to burn the card, which we don’t do, and every year you quickly open the card and read it.”
“Which I regret and cast it into the fire myself,” Patrick said. “Now really, just throw the card into the fire and save me from having to go through that again.”
“Very well,” Cordell said, throwing the card into the fire.
Patrick watched as the card burst into flames and crumbled into dust. Cordell, George, and Patrick’s other subordinates noticed him looking emotional as he watched it, but they knew that this was what he wanted.
Once the card had disappeared forever, Patrick slowly turned back to his subordinates, his eyes watering.
“Let’s have a look at that present,” Patrick said.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to throw it into a skip?” Cordell said.
“Yes. Just give it to me,” Patrick said.
“Very well,” Cordell said.
Cordell slowly handed the parcel over to Patrick.
Patrick’s subordinates then watched as he scrutinised the small rectangular parcel wrapped in British Racing Green wrapping paper and bright yellow ribbon. For a moment Patrick almost looked like he was ten, rather than forty-six.
He observed the small cardboard tag tied to the top of the present.
Hope you enjoy what we’ve given you. We’ve heard it’s what you wanted. Love from S, M, & A xxx.
Patrick slowly looked up and glared at his subordinates. We’ve heard it’s what you’ve wanted; his parents could only have known that one way, because his subordinates told them.
He simply sighed, then opened the birthday present.
It was a brand new iPad Pro; perfect for his business needs. He had indeed wanted one for a while and had mentioned it to his subordinates in passing. But he did not expect them to tell his parents about it, and for them to actually give him one.
“Well, this will be useful for dealing with business matters,” Patrick said, carefully putting the iPad Pro aside.
“Are you glad we didn’t throw the present away now?” Cordell said.
“Yes,” Patrick said. “Although you could have bought me it yourself, or I could have bought it later. There was no need to drag my parents into it.”
“We know,” Cordell said. “But they said they wanted to give you something special, so we suggested they get you that.”
“And I’m grateful,” Patrick said. “But I want nothing to do with my family from now on. You are not to communicate with them behind my back.”
“As you wish, sir,” Cordell said.
“As for my location, I’m considering moving house and not telling them my address. That way, they cannot trace me.”
Patrick’s subordinates looked at him for a moment.
“Are you sure you want to do that, sir?” Cordell said. “You enjoy the space this mansion provides, and the croquet lawn, of course.”
“There are plenty of places like that in England,” Patrick said. “Some may even be closer to my factories.”
“Perhaps,” George said. “But there is also the fact that this mansion belonged to your-”
“Grandparents?” Patrick said. “Yes, there is that. But that is all the more reason I should move. That way, I really will be distant from my parents.”
“Ok, sir,” Cordell said.
There was a pause for a moment, before Patrick said, “but that is something to think about at a later date. Right now, I fancy a game of croquet.”
“As you wish, sir,” Cordell said.
“Join me outside in about ten minutes,” Patrick said. “The game will begin in fifteen.”
“Very well,” Cordell said.
And so Patrick and his subordinates left the room, ready to play a birthday game of croquet outside.
The Robinsonverse 