“Have you seen Father’s diary?” Thomas said as they walked towards the village pub.
“He hardly seems the type, too miserable and old for that type of thing.” Charles replied.
“Oh do stop being such a thickhead will you Charlieboy, it isn’t a diary of now, it’s from years ago, before we existed even.”
“Well, you obviously know I haven’t, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking me in such a swine of a way. Should I have seen his diary, is it full of Victorian gossip or some other dull ancient fantasy?”
Charlie hated the battle he had with his brother. It was an almost constant game of one upmanship, which he never signed up for and really did not have the time or inclination to play. The trouble was, the less he played along, the more his brother carried on the attacks, riding high on a wave of power over his elder sibling. It was most bothersome.
After a minute Charles gave up.
“Well do go on then young brother. I haven’t seen the diary and obviously it must have something good in it, please put me out of my misery.”
“Have you heard of Pale Clara?”
Charles stopped dead.