Symphony of Lilacs

31. War of Roses

I laugh at the mere suggestion, but then notice then solemn expression on William's, Doctor Hopkins's son, face.

"I'm not jesting, lad," William Hopkins says.

"But... what will my parents..." My laughter falls into a forgotten bearing; I keep looking at the vase of white and red roses on a table near the fireplace.

Now William smiles.
"Do you think my father was delighted when I said I wanted to be a police detective, rather than a doctor?"

I sink into my sofa in the Hopkins's small but comfortable parlour room.
During my summer holidays, I always seem to find my way to the this home, even though Dr Cassius Hopkins is only our family physician.
Though, they're always more welcoming to a wandering boy far too idle for his own good than most people.
But times like these make me wish I didn't come, even though William is like an elder brother to me.

William walks over to the fireplace.
"He said, 'You'll face prejudice.'
I said, 'I'll face prejudice everywhere!'
He said, 'You'll have to work on your own, no advice from me!'
I said, 'That I know and am willing nonetheless.'"
He shakes his head.
"The point: Your father will eventually understand, just like mine did. Parents always do when their children are happy."

A child or two wails from another room; both of us glance at the door.
"Your sister-in-law is at her mother's, along with my own mother. I'll have to look after the twins, so excuse me."
William takes long strides towards the door, while a vase shatters in another nearby room.
He booms in an ungodly voice that might as well have shattered the entire house,
"RONALD AND CLAUDE, I WILL COOK YOU TWO IN YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S STOVE IF YOU DON'T BEHAVE. LET ME CHECK ON YOUR SISTERS IN PEACE!"

"Oh that was me!" Doctor Hopkins shouts from another room, laughing accompanied by more giggles.

William sighs, while I muffle my grin. He looks at me from over his shoulder and says,

"But really, you only touch the stars when you try in the first place."

When another wail echoes, William stomps out of the parlour.

I wish I had your optimism, William, I wish.

"They yearn for what they dread."

Leaning back into the chair, those words and Mathilda's echo in my ears.

I suspected the worst of possibilities... and that is what Crimley gave me.

It has been more than two weeks since my talk with Crimley.
And according to Edmund's reports, he's had meetings with other people as well, leaving me with a sufficient gap to act.

William Sterling has done most of his work. Only the final act remains.

Both my hands tense at the back of my neck, while my feet are on one of the library's table.
A vase of white and red roses sits by the window. Their petals quiver upon each other in their own sort of a war of roses. A thin line of an old memory wafts with their scent.