The Fantastic adventures of prince Jeremie

I THE ORPHANA sea of guests was crowding in the large lounge, mainly adults, and not so many children. The host, M. Hollbrook had made the most from this reception. Prudence Malaimmer, his 45 years old single governess had largely supported him, whereas Chelsea, his ten years old unique daughter had done nothing to help. No need to raise this point. She never did anything at home. Now the coming of Jeremie, her cousin, in her own family, disturbed her very much. She thought of him as an intruder. Jeremie was 2 years older than her. She detested him even before he was to come. She could not stand seeing her father hug the child, introduce him with pride to the guests, and talk about him as his «adopted child ».Such an attitude impressed the guests a lot and they looked with brilliant eyes to this small prince dressed with a butterfly knot. M. Hollbrook cleared his throat and addressed the guests, too busy with the cookies and the champagne. “Your attention please, ladies and gentleman!” The brouhaha kept on! He insisted. Mr Hollbrook was running on his fifties and was wearing a pair of round glasses. He was going bald. “I’m pleased to announce the arrival of my nephew Jeremy in the family…” He stopped and drank some water. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to replace his poor parents, snif… Clemence, my sister…” He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. The guests felt awkward. He kissed Jeremie and went on. “I’ll do my best so that he feels himself at home here. I hope my dear daughter will love him as much as I do and they will be inseparable, like brother and sister…” He blowed his nose again, but made an awkward movement and dropped the glass of water on the waxed floor. He quickly bent down to pick up the glass but tripped on Jeremie… He performed an amazing leg split that tore his trousers and managed to redress himself. Now he slipped on the glass and grasped a painting on the wall in a panic. “Aaah !” The guests uttered. “God bless you” he shouted and disappeared behind the buffet, spilling glasses of champagne and dishes of cookies… Many guests rushed for help. M.Hollbrook had lost his glasses, and his underpants made out of a hole in his trousers. He felt so confused, he apologised and took leave with a friend to change clothes.Chelsea felt ashamed for her father, shrugged her shoulder and looked at her cousin, who was really upset. Jeremie didn’t know much about his cousin. He remembered having met her on festive occasions. He came from the city whereas she was from the countryside. He and his parents loved visiting this slightly excentric uncle in his huge gloomy house. It was said to have secret passage and dungeons from the Middle Age. Chelsea’s mother had left for the United States with another man. Chelsea travelled to Boston once or twice a year to meet her mother. The latter loved her child and spoilt her very much. But the child prefered living with her father. Chelsea had freckles on her little face. She had cute big eyes, too. She braided her long red hair and dressed like Barbie dolls. She was Scottish by her father, just as Jeremie was by his mother. This could arise sparks… The little boy remained on his own since his parents’death. He would have been placed in an orphanage but for his uncle’s kindness.Nevertheless, he felt himself uneasy in the world of adults. Jeremie startled because of his uncle’s hand.He noticed the latter had changed his trousers buthe found them as ugly as the former ones. “I’m going to introduce you to some friends, my son. Some came especially from Scotland to meet you.” This did not make Jeremie pleased but did he have the choice? M.Hollbrook introduced him to his elder sister, Mademoiselle Sheila Janet Susan Hollbrook, a single, very distinguished and very wealthy woman. He also introduced him to some painters who ran painting galleries, museums, theaters, like him…. Mr Hollbrook’s slovenly look sharply contrasted with that of his guests. He was a head taller than every one. The boy received cuddles and kisses. Then his uncle took him to the buffet and had him served whatever he liked by the maître d’hôtel. Chelsea came and joined him. “Be nice with him Chelsea, don’t argue with him.” “But I looove this child, Daddy!” “All right. I’m going back to my guests.” As he was going, he tripped over the carpet and was well on his way to fall flat on his face. Jeremie stifled a laugh. “He’s always there to make a fool of himself”, the little girl whispered. The governess lectured him severely: “You two should be ashamed of yourselves, you Miss, and you Mister Jérémie. I saw you smiling. How dare you making fun of a man who is hosting you! That’s not correct.” “Me?” the little boy exclaimed. “Yes, you. I hope this will never happen again.” She turned and left. Chelsea sticked her tongue out at her. “You old bat! Passe-boules! Passe-boules! Passe-boules!” Jeremie was surprised about the governess’s nickname. Chelsea explained that her mouth was so large that a ball could easily pass through. Jeremie felt sorry for his cousin’s attitude towards the governess. It was true she had a big mouth, though. He was not dupe. “Why do you hate me?” “You won’t take my father. He’s mine, he’s only for me! Do you hear me naughty boy?!You won’t take him away from me.” Jeremie dropped his eyes. What would he do? He did not intend to take her father. How stupid of her! He felt unhappy. He took his plate full of desserts and sat by himself. His grand parents joined him. He threw himself into his grand-mother’s arms. “My poor little one, you will be happy with your uncle. We are too old and in your age, a child is turbulent. But you will come to see us for holidays…” His maternal grand-mother was a short woman who had run a clothes store during many years. Her husband was a retired doctor. They now lived in a nice house with a garden, trying to comfort themselves for their daughter’s death. “Granny, I love you so much…” Jeremie cried. Chelsea observed with a straight and cold face. Prudence Malaimmer asked her to leave Jeremie alone with his grand-parents and it is with regret that she followed the nanny. Prudence Malaimmer had known Chelsea since she turned two and Mr and Mrs Hollbrook had always trusted in her. When Chelsea’s mother left home for another man, the little girl was eight years old. Throughout this ordeal, a strong complicity has been forging between the daughter and the father. A complicity that only the governess could disturb. There was an intruder who came to her house to steal her father! This sounded like a great injustice. Her father was the only one with whom she shared her love (too bad for her mother). And this love, this happiness, she didn’t want to share it with anyone. As she followed her governess, Chelsea cursed against going to bed so early. “You cousin will go into his bedroom as soon as possible”, Miss Malaimmer reassured her. The two of them crossed the waxed corridor on skates, under a hazy light. The little girl laid down quickly but got up to look out for his “brother”’s arrival, as soon as the governess left. Jeremie was “the best in show” that night, so he came back late. When he reached the door of his bedroom, he noticed a light under her cousin’s door, his “sister” now. It switched off and the door was half-opened. The two children observed each other covertly. “Good night Chelsea…” Jeremie murmured. She had no more her braids and looked less pretty. She didn’t answer and slammed the door. Jeremie liked his new bedroom. His uncle furnished the bedroom to please a boy. There were Formula 1 catalogue, aircraft and motorcycles models laid out on shelves or hanged from the ceiling. All of his comics were there. There was a worldmap from ancient times near the desk and on the wall just behind, a huge map. Some of the objects were from his home, he found himself in his familiar little space. Jeremie took off his clothes and put on his pyjama “Harry Potter”. He loved Harry Potter’s adventures. He finally slipped under the duvet and turned off the light. He shivered out of joy and fear. His newly renovated bedroom looked like Harry’s room, and even better. He imagined Harry jumping on his broomstick model 2000! In fact, it was the entire house that looked like Harry’s home, as if it was Halloween all the time. It was dark and tragically bleak, just as he loved. The house was very very large, with fifteen rooms and several lounges over three floors. Jeremie and Chelsea occupied the third floor, almost underneath the eaves, with a bathroom just only for them. Every space was carpeted. The governess lived below, on the second floor. She occupied a luxurious small apartment. It was wholy furnished and was equipped with a kitchen and a bathroom. Receptions were held on the first floor, in a spacious and beautifully furnished room. Mr Hollbrook slept in a small room on the ground floor. Jeremie was smoothly dropping off to sleep when strange noises startled. He opened his eyes and wondered where they came from.From the ceiling? No! They would rather come from the attic, from the playing room. The noises sound weird. He sat up in a sudden. Was it Chelsea? Was she playing there? Mmmm. That’s unlikely. He heard stampedings, screams, grazings… Animals up there?... The noises stopped after a while and he fell on his pillow. He felt worn out. Jeremie had a slight fever and he had to stay indoors. He was completely alone because Chelsea and his uncle would be back late in the afternoon. This made him rather happy, but he wondered how he could fill in that long day with. The electric circuit and the computer would not do much. The hours never seemed to come an end. Everytime his uncle went away, he used to close all the rooms where he worked, stored his canvas and paintings. Now Jeremie liked spending hours beholding them. His uncle used to exhibit them as far as in Japan and in the States. But now he was interested in the famous playing room, in the attic. He would be eager to explore it because of the noises of yesterday. He got excitedly, took his bath in the bathroom upstairs and slipped in his Harry Potter pyjama again. He could not go out, anyway. The weather was so bad outside. He had his English breakfast: eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, maple syrup, orange juice and hot chocolate. Then he approached the governess, and boldly asked her the fateful question: “Tell me, Prudence, are there rats in the attic?” The governess let a glass drop. “First thing, don’t address me with my first name! Call me Mademoiselle. I’ve told that a thousand times. How stubborn you are! Just like a Scot! Then, how dare you ask such a question? Rats, here? There’s no attic any longer up there. Everything has been turned into a playing room. Everything there was renewed.” Jeremie looked at her, fascinated. She had a big mouth, true. “But… I heard noises from there yesterday, like creaking.” Prudence Malaimmer was not the kind of person children could bother. She was a qualified governess. Hence, she wouldn’t listen to their ravings, no! She couldn’t bear such things. “Poor child! That’s the wooden frame! It’s creaking. It’s normal.” The little boy looked for a possible reply but she added: “You won’t stick around me the whole day, will you? Go away!” Jeremie finished his orange juice. He did not hinger around. He made for the attic. He shivered both for fever and excitement. He wondered if the governess was right. He was about to turn open the handle made out of black wrought iron when there was a stampeding noise. He drew back and made for the stairs. It was nearly midnight. Jeremie was still hearing the hubbubs. He lit his electric torch and directed the light towards the ceiling. How stupid! He knew everything was taking place in the attic. He tiptoed out of his warm bed to the corridor. All was dark. Chelsea was surely sleeping at this time. She certainly would moan after him. Nevermind! He felt so fearful. He knocked at his cousin’s door.