A Villain for Christmas (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 2)

A (Non)Obligatory Flashback

2 out of 2 :) Have fun! <3

K.

***

About twenty years ago...

Billie didn't notice the noise right away. Firstly, d'Artagnan had just found a fleur-de-lis branded on Milady's shoulder; and secondly, Billie truly didn't expect anyone to find her spot. Other children usually stayed away from this bank, there was nothing to do here but to sit on a fallen tree. The view of the river was obstructed by thick, disorderly bushes; and the ground under a crooked willow tree was often damp even at noon. Billie tore her eyes off the page with difficulty. She hated the feeling of being forced to 'resurface' out of a good story.

Someone was coming her way, struggling with branches and rushes, and panting loudly. Billie pressed her lips in annoyance. Finally, the bushes parted, and a boy stepped out. There was a fresh long scratch on his cheek. He looked dishevelled, and his face was glistening with sweat. She could see wet stains on his shirt as well, and his curly dark hair was stuck to his forehead and his temples. He was breathing heavily. No wonder, Billie thought. How much does he weigh? Ten stones or so, maybe? That's probably twice the normal weight. Yeah, he wouldn't be able to fight off twenty of the Cardinal's men.

The boy stopped and wiped his mouth with his sleeve - and that's when he saw her. His jaw slacked ungracefully. Billie jerked her chin up. Hopefully, he'd understand that he wasn't welcome here and make himself scarce.

Seconds ticked away, but the boy wasn't speaking - or moving for that matter. Billie, meanwhile, decided to follow the example of Sherlock Holmes - the man of her dreams, whose portrait she hung over her bed - and got busy with deductions. She'd never seen the boy before, but he had no backpack - which meant he wasn't a tourist. He must be visiting some distant relatives here. And since he was tall and dark-haired, and had a long prominent nose, chances were, he was either an Oakby or a Holyoake. There were, of course, other families that he could fit into. His skin had a darker tone to it, so maybe the Serranos or the Ortizes. Seeing the colour of his eyes would help, but he had a pair of thick glasses on, and the right lens had a patch on it. His left eye did seem to move funny, and he was also blinking frantically; she assumed she was making him nervous. Good, Billie thought. Maybe he'll finally get the message.

He didn't - and Billie's patience ran out.

"If you're looking for the bridge, it's that way," she said and pointed up the river.

Boys always played on the bridge. Billie didn't like boys. They were loud, cocky, and only approached her to ask about her 'fit' sister.

The boy in front of her followed her movement with his eyes, then shifted his gaze back at her, and continued gawking at her silently.

"Can I help you?" Billie asked sharply. "I would like to go back to my reading, thank you very much." She lifted her book and shook it in the air to demonstrate. "See? Three Musketeers. I'm sure you aren't interested, but it's a very–"

"T-tre m-moschettieri!" the boy exclaimed, his face lighting up.

"Oh, do you know it?" Billie asked, immediately softening and almost forgiving him for his gender. "Have you read it?"

The boy tried to answer, but stammered and shied away. He gave her an embarrassed glance; but seeing that she wasn't laughing, he tentatively pointed at the book - and then a strange gesture followed: he pursed his lips; his index finger and his thumb met, forming a circle; and then he opened his hand. Altogether, to Billie, it looked like he was mimicking smoking a cigarette. Except, he made a quiet kissing noise when doing it.