THE KINGS OF BRAN'S CAULDRON (part 9 of 10)

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BRIAN V: Defending the Castle

When Brian got home it was late, and the house was dark. He poured himself a large scotch, and shrugged off his coat, leaving it where it fell on the floor. From somewhere upstairs, he could hear the muffled sound of music.
"Have you heard the news?"
Brian wheeled around, and saw his wife was sitting on the sofa, waiting in darkness.
"Helen," he said. "What're you talking about?"
"The news," she replied. "Russell Crowe died tonight."
Brian couldn't stop a sour chuckle escaping his lips, and he switched on a lamp in the corner of the room. "Want a drink?" he asked.
Helen shook her head and squinted against the sudden brightness. It was clear she had been crying. "I called the office," she said. "Apparently, you're on holiday. Why didn't you come home?"
"I've been thinking." With his drink in hand, Brian sat down on a footrest in front of the sofa and faced his wife. He took a long swallow of scotch and sighed. "Do you ever regret not having our own baby – you know, naturally?"
"We've been over this," Helen said. "We can't change what's already happened."
"I know. But do you blame me? Do you think I never really gave you a choice? I've been wondering, you see. About ... about ..."
Helen leant forward and placed a hand on her husband's cheek. "I don't regret anything, Brian, but we need to start dealing with this. Together. You've been so distant recently, and I can't do it on my own."
"I know. I know. How is he?"
Helen let her hand drop, and was clearly holding back more tears. "He's been in his room on his computer all day. I haven't seen him since we spoke on the phone."
"I'll go up and talk to him."
"We need more than that, Brian. I think it's time we considered a shrink. He needs professional help."
A knot of hatred cramped Brian's insides, and his fingers whitened as he tightened his grip on the glass. "It might be too late for that," he said, and took another swallow of scotch, his hands shaking.
"What's wrong?"
"The company knows what's going on, Helen. Donald's not the only one."
"What?"
"I spoke to someone today—"
Brian flinched as a noise like thunder erupted from upstairs. It seemed to echo for a long time before fading into silence.
He and Helen stared at each other.

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