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To be clear, Virgil loved the Creighton-Ward estate. The architecture was beautiful and the English countryside dawned every morning with a vibrant sunrise turned soft by silvery mist rising from sloping fields and trees. The gardens were immaculate as was the interior. There was evidence of grand art honed over many years of collecting and some of the pieces were one-of-a-kind, worth more than his own soul so that he spent hours in fear every time Gordon and Alan – and their habit of leaving destruction in their wake – bounded down the corridors.
But it wasn’t merely an example of aristocratic grandeur; it was also a home. Somehow, Penelope had managed to blur the line between the two and perhaps that was the reason why Virgil loved the place so much. The kitchen was filled with colourful containers of various tea leaves. It was always warm and cosy with the scent of freshly baked cookies, a plateful ready and waiting on the tiny table in the corner, the one with the chairs with battered stripey cushions which looked to have been stolen out of a family home rather than an English manor. There were soft blankets in corners for a certain pampered pet. Lamps turned immaculate paintwork into something warmer, more homely, a comforting hideaway after a day in the public eye, and, at night, the patter of rain and tip-tap of roses against the windows was relaxing.
There was just one issue – the location. Not that he had anything against England (other than the weather in fall when it was just a few degrees too warm for a sweater but remained too cold wear anything else), but the difference in time zones was irritating. It meant he always spent the first night tossing and turning and then the rest of the following day trying not to be too grouchy and snap at everyone due to fatigue. This occasion was no different. It was just after midnight and despite feeling tired, his brain had reset as soon as he’d hit the pillow, so now he was here, staying at the ceiling and listening to those roses knocking on the glass, wondering how many sheep it was worth counting before giving up on sleep as a lost cause.
His phone chimed that particular little tune indicative of the family group chat. This usually filled him with dread as it was typically an embarrassing photo of him that he couldn’t even recall Gordon taking in the first place. Tonight, he was so bored that he would honestly welcome that humiliation. He fumbled for his phone amid the semi-gloom and rolled over to discover what particular variety of chaos awaited him today.
G: So is anyone else awake because yay ~jetlag~ or is my insomnia just being a bitch again?
A: I’m awake.
G: You’re always awake you don’t count
J: I’m awake too.
G: You’re also always awake
G: And you’re secretly an alien so you don’t count twice over
A: Wouldn’t those cancel each other out?
G: Shut up Alan you weirdo you know I don’t care about maths rules and shit
A: Hey @Scott @Virgil Gordon’s bullying me again
G: V’s literally already in the chat why are you asking him for help he’s clearly finding it funny
J: @Gordon I’m going to block you
G: That’s fair
A: I’m also tempted to block you
G: Excuse you
A: You’re annoying
G: Rude.
A: Anyway I’m bored
G: Same!!!
J: Then perish
G: We should play a game
J: How about the silent game?
G: Idea rejected. Next?
A: Idk. Hide and seek or something?
G: Oh my god
G: OH MY GOD
G: @Alan you’re a genius
J: No, that’s me
J: He comes a close second
J: Also we are not playing hide and seek. We’re not children.
G: Okay coward
A: It’s okay that you’re scared you’ll lose
J: This is manipulation
J: I’m not scared
G: Then prove it
J: Fine
A: Hell yeah!
G: Yo Virg stop lurking in the chat like a creep
A: @Scott WAKE UP IT’S SEEKING TIME
A: Or hiding time
A: Anyway the point is WAKE UP
A: @Scott
S: I have been here the entire time.
G: I call bullshit.
G: You weren’t showing as online.
S: Ever heard of reading notifications?
G: …shut up.
A: Yo Scotty are you gonna join the game?
S: Maybe.
J: Do it. I dare you.
S: …you’d better start hiding then.
S: One…
S: Two…
S: I’m not texting every number so just know I’m counting to thirty
Virgil considered the merits of pulling the duvet over his head and remaining there until breakfast. Games never ended well in a family in which the stubborn and competitive genes were the strongest. Unfortunately, his usually infinite patience had deserted him and so he rolled out of bed to answer the door after only thirty seconds of constant knocking.
He hauled it open to come face-to-face with Gordon. “What?”
Gordon bounced on his heels like a freed jack-in-the-box. “You know exactly what.”
“No.”
“Uh, yes.”
“We are not playing hide and seek because we are sensible adults.”
Gordon snorted. “Yeah, okay, Virg.”
“I’m serious.”
“Sure.” Gordon beamed at him. “So, does this mean you want to be the first seeker?”
Virgil stared at him. “Scott’s the first seeker. He’s already started counting.”
“Wait, what? I didn’t check my phone after my last text.” Gordon fished his phone out of his pocket and went wide-eyed. “Oh my god. We’re running outta time.” He grabbed Virgil’s wrist and hauled him out of his room despite protests. “Let’s go!”
As with most of Gordon’s schemes, Virgil found himself dragged along against his will. He tried to dig his heels into the carpet only to remember that Penelope’s manor had floorboards and so this was a pointless venture. Footsteps pounded along the corridor above them as Alan fled. There was no sign of John – who, by the way, had an unfair advantage given he had spent the most time here out of all of them and oh, hello, there was Virgil’s own competitive streak creeping out to play – but Scott was already on the hunt.
Gordon hurtled around a corner and released Virgil’s wrist. “Bye!”
“Are you abandoning me?”
Gordon saluted him with an evil chuckle. “Laters, ‘gators!”
“I’m disowning you,” Virgil called after him, but Gordon was already sprinting full pelt for the stairs and showed no signs of having heard him. In the settling silence, Virgil took a moment to assess his options.
Penelope’s manor was massive. This immediately provided several options. On the other hand, it was like a goddamn maze and he was reluctant to get lost. Not because he was scared, but because it would be humiliating to have to text John and ask for a map. There were so many corridors leading to random staircases and grand rooms with smaller, adjourning spaces. Doors invited an explorer into the unknown hallway beyond, leading to rooftop balconies or down into the depths of the cellar. He swore he stumbled across a new room every time he visited. Penelope found it amusing. John took far too much satisfaction in texting them all maps. Alan had taken to stealing Sherbet upon every stay and using the dog as a guide.
He took to wandering the corridors, taking every second left turn he came across so that he could easily find his way back but also ventured so deep into the manor that Scott would either give up (unlikely) or end up so frustrated that he got lost himself (much more likely and the funnier option of the two). He wasn’t sure how long it was before a series of outraged shouts echoed from the floor below. It took some effort to locate a staircase and he hung around the top in an attempt to see who had been found without being spotted himself.
“They’ve teamed up.”
Virgil nearly tumbled down the stairs. Reflexes took control before his brain could catch up and he only just kept himself from smacking John in the face.
“Don’t do that.”
John offered him one of those casually evil smiles. “Do what?”
“Sneak up on me.” Virgil glared at him. “Jeez.” He clasped a hand to his chest, heart still beating too fast. “I’m gonna buy you a bell one of these days.” He retreated into the shadows, away from view of the corridor below. “Who’s teamed up?”
“Scott and Alan.”
“And they’ve found Gordon?”
“Yes. Now they’re chasing him. He claims he hasn’t lost until they’ve caught him, although I always thought the aim of the game was to find the players, which is exactly what happened. He’s just a sore loser.”
“Hypocrite, much?”
John tilted his head in acknowledgement, looking highly amused. “I never claimed otherwise.” He straightened up, alertness overtaking his smile as he listened intently to the approaching footsteps along the corridor below. “Shit. Quick, follow me.”
Virgil followed him without hesitation. “Are we working together now?”
“Yep. Even the odds a bit.”
John led the way to an innocuous wall panel, which promptly slid aside to reveal a relatively narrow passageway. It was dusty from disuse but the lack of spiderwebs promised that it had been occupied fairly recently. Virgil repressed a sneeze as the panel slid back into place behind them.
John activated his phone’s flashlight. “This is how you win hide and seek.”
Virgil let out a surprised laugh. “So… do we just hang out? They’ll never find us.”
“We wait for them to admit defeat.”
“They’re too stubborn.”
John gave an ominous chuckle. “But they also lack patience. Which will win? Let’s find out. Besides, it’s been a while since we had chance to catch up.” He slid down the wall and patted the space at his side. “I predict half an hour.”
“An hour exactly.”
“Five bucks?”
“You’re on.”
Forty minutes later, the family chat lit up again.
G: Okay, spill. Where are you guys?
J: In the manor.
S: John, I swear to God, I’m gonna find you and murder you.
J: Good luck. It’s been nearly two hours since we began and I’ve yet to see any sign of you.
V: You were so close so many times.
A: Wait really?
V: Try walking up and down the corridor on the third floor a dozen more times.
S: Fratricide sounds more appealing by the second.
K: There is a disguised wall panel around five metres from the top of the staircase. Try there.
A: Wait you’re not even here how do you know that?
K: John’s predictable.
V: @Kayo Really?
J: @Kayo Traitor.
K: Have fun bye