Virgil slammed his way into the bedroom and locked the door behind him. Rage coursed through his system, not allowing him to think clearly. He'd show them! He'd get the yacht and leave this place. He'd break into the boat shed somehow and steal it! He was supposed to be an engineer. Surely he could work out how to operate a boat!
Then he thought about the view of Tracy Island he'd seen from space. If he were to get a boat where would he go? Miles and miles of ocean to choose from and he had no idea where the nearest bit of inhabited land was. Probably 'International Rescue' would catch him before he got too far away.
On automatic pilot he went to an unidentified box on a table and punched in a code before throwing himself onto the bed. Music filled the room.
Only then did he start to think about what he'd done.
He sat up and looked at the electronic device. How did he know how to operate it? How'd he know that that particular key combination would unleash that particular tune?
For the first time since he'd stormed out of Jeff's study Virgil felt a pang of doubt.
He sat back, trying to analyse what had happened a few moments earlier. He'd got angry, really angry, and anger had told him that these people weren't who they said they were. Did he believe that?
No.
Did he believe that they were his family?
No.
Did he have any real evidence either way?
No.
Did he want to back down?
…
No.
He wanted conclusive proof. He wanted someone give him evidence that would prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was a member of this family. He needed that reassurance.
Virgil cast his eyes about the room. Up till now he hadn't had a really good look around. The feeling that he hadn't belonged had made him believe that he would have been intruding into someone else's possessions.
Virgil made the decision that now was the time to examine this room thoroughly.
If nothing else it would take his mind off his complaining stomach.
A few hours later and he had finished the search of the bedroom. He'd found nothing that had satisfied his need for conclusive proof.
He went into the bathroom and had a drink of water. It was a chance to collect his thoughts.
What was he looking for? He didn't know.
Would he know it if he found it? He didn't know that either.
What would he do if he found some evidence?
He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
Virgil rinsed out the glass, replaced it on the bathroom unit and returned to the bedroom.
As he did so he heard a voice call to him from outside the door to the room. It was Tin-Tin and he tried not to listen as she pleaded for him to come out and join them for a meal. He ignored her offer to leave food outside his door. He couldn't bring himself to trust them, not after what he'd heard this morning.
He backed into the studio to get as far away from her voice as he could, plugging his ears with his fingers. Eventually she was silent.
He stood for a moment and looked about him. The toy engineering set was still on the floor, a nearly completed machine standing in the middle of the remaining components.
He ignored it and started examining the room.
Gordon finally awoke and went in search of his family. He found John in the lounge. "Hiya."
"Gordon? I thought you wouldn't surface until tomorrow!" John exclaimed. "How are you feeling now?"
"Okay I guess. How's Virgil?"
It took John a while to answer. "Things have kind of gone pear shaped," he eventually said.
Gordon looked alarmed. "What do you mean?"
"He's said that he doesn't believe that we're his family and is insisting that we let him move away."
"Move away! Where to?"
"I don't know. Scott's going to try to change his mind or something."
"How?"
"He's been muttering about making plans, and talking with Grandma, but he hasn't let anyone else in on his scheme."
"But Virgil can't leave! He's a part of our family! He's our brother!" Gordon slumped into a chair. "This is all my fault isn't it?"
"No it's not," their father's voice came from behind them. "This is something that's been brewing since the accident."
"Yes," John agreed. "Don't blame yourself, Gordon."
"But if I hadn't said those things! I didn't mean them, Dad! Honest!"
"I know. I've had a talk with Scott and Virgil and I know what happened. Unfortunately Virgil interpreted what you said incorrectly, and we haven't been able to convince him otherwise."
"I'm sorry, Dad."
"It's not your fault, Gordon. We won't panic yet. We'll give Scott a chance to do whatever he's got planned and then re-evaluate the situation tomorrow."
Virgil sat back on his heels and stared at the object in his hands. Was this the 'holy grail' he'd been seeking?
He carried it over to the light to examine it closer.
It was a drawing done in coloured pencils.
A drawing of Tin-Tin. There was an inscription on the back and Virgil could read and understand the words 'To Alan' and 'From Virgil'.
Virgil could see that the picture had been done in his style. More disturbing was the fact that it was almost exactly the drawing that he'd envisaged doing when he'd asked her to pose for him. He went back into the bedroom and got the sketchpad that he'd been using to make some rough drafts. He compared the two pictures. The angle of her head was the same. The way the light highlighted her hair was nearly identical. It was the same smile.
Coincidence?
Possibly.
So now what?
He sat in a seat that looked out over the pool and courtyard, but he wasn't looking at the view. He was comparing the two pictures.
Had he drawn that picture he'd just found?
Had someone else, copying his style?
These people were clever. They were clever enough to think of getting someone to draw a picture that could pass off as one he'd done himself and maybe slip it in amongst his things…
Virgil suddenly found that he was angry again. This time he wasn't angry with the Tracy family. He was angry with Virgil Tracy. Here he was, potentially with the evidence he'd been seeking, and he wasn't willing to let himself believe what he was seeing with his own eyes.
What was wrong with him!
Why didn't he want to be part of this family? They were wonderful people and he would be proud to be considered to be one of them. He admired their goals. He admired their skills.
So why couldn't he let himself believe?
He dropped the drawing back where he'd found it and took a step backwards. He trod on a piece of construction kit, bruising his foot. Anger boiled over again and, with a yell, he picked up his carefully crafted machine and threw it against the wall! It hit hard, scarring the wallpaper, and collapsed to the floor in a disjointed heap.
Virgil stormed back into the bedroom and fell onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and pulling it over his head as if he were trying to block out all the negative thoughts that were filling it.
There was a bang and the door to the hallway slid open uninvited.
Scott Tracy filled the doorway.
He could cut an imposing figure when he wanted, as could be testified by a number of subordinates, and he was using that ability to full advantage now. The figure-hugging top, which accentuated his muscular body, folded arms and scowl, all helped create the impression that he was here for a reason and nobody was going to divert him from his plan. The scratch on his face made it seem that the plan wasn't going to be a wholly savoury one.
Scott Tracy was a man on a mission.
Virgil looked at the interloper without enthusiasm, thinking that he was sure he'd locked that door and wondering what he'd done wrong in the process. "What do you want?"
"Are you joining us for dinner, Brother?"
Virgil's stomach was saying yes, but his mind told it to be quiet. "No."
"Fine," Scott stated and turned away.
Virgil relaxed.
His respite was only temporary for it appeared that Scott had anticipated a negative answer. He collected the card table from the hallway and set it up in the middle of the bedroom. Next appeared a piece of wood, which covered the surface of the table, forks, salt and pepper, mugs and a thermos flask. He disappeared into the hallway again.
Virgil was telling himself that he could hold his ground and stick to his plan of not eating anything now, but sneaking out after dark, when Scott reappeared.
Virgil's heart sank. Scott was carrying two bags, a pillow and sleeping bag. He removed Gordon's things and then tossed one bag and the sleeping gear onto the temporary cot. The other bag he placed carefully underneath. "I'm sleeping in here tonight."
"So I gathered."
"Any problems with that, Brother?"
"Would it make any difference if I did?" Virgil glared at the other man. "Do you think you going all G.I. Joe is going to have some affect on me?"
"G.I. Joe!" Scott said with affronted dignity. "Please! I was proud to serve in the Air Force."
"Lucky you," Virgil said sarcastically.
Scott bit back a reply and squared off so he was looking Virgil in the eye. "Look!" he said threateningly. "I'm warning you now. I can be your best friend, or your worst nightmare. I've always been your best friend but if you want a change…" he petered out dangerously. "It's your choice… Brother."
"Oh, so I have a choice, do I?" Virgil was wondering why he was still feeling antagonistic towards this man.
"Not if you keep that attitude."
"Fine," Virgil swung around so he was still sitting on his bed but his back was towards Scott and the dinner table, intending to ignore them both.
It was a resolution that was sorely tested when interesting sounds and tantalising smells started filling the room. Virgil turned back angrily. "Do you have to do that in here?"
Scott was stirring a pot of stew that was simmering on a small burner on the table. "No. But if you're not going to join us in the dining room, I intend to make sure that you eat something. I'm not having you waste away."
"I'm not hungry."
"Yeah, sure," Scott snarled. "You didn't have dinner last night and you haven't eaten all day. It's now dinnertime and I'll bet you're starving."
"I'm not eating anything. I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone on this island."
"We'll see." Scott ladled three big spoonfuls of stew onto a plate. He then reached into a bag and pulled out a long bread roll, which he broke in half.
Virgil's mouth watered as he saw the steam rise from the freshly baked loaf and smelt the irresistible smells of the meal. His resolution began to waver.
Then Scott picked up the plate, half the roll and a fork and settled down on his own bed. He began to eat.
Virgil watched him in amazement.
Scott enjoyed three forkfuls of stew, took a bite out his half of the roll and then looked at Virgil, chewing slowly. He swallowed. "If you're going to have anything you'd better get stuck in, Brother. I'm warning you that if you don't I'm going to get Brains. He has several interesting ways of force feeding people."
"Brains?" Virgil gave a bitter laugh. "I'm bigger than him. He wouldn't have a chance."
"And I'm bigger than you. And stronger. Do you think you could take me on? I'd be the one holding you down."
Virgil folded his arms petulantly. "Is this an example of how 'caring' this family is? So 'caring' that you'd threaten me?"
"It's because we care that we'd make sure that you didn't starve yourself to death."
"Am I to take it that this means that you're not going to let me escape this island?"
"Oh, you can go… if you wish. But it's not convenient yet…"
Virgil snorted.
"We want to make sure that you stay with someone who'll look after you properly. And until Father gets hold of Penny you're staying here."
"You calling that escaping? You people picking where I go and who I stay with?"
Scott looked at him. "And where were you planning on going?"
Virgil had no answer to that.
"What else were you planning to do? Take the boat and head out into the Pacific Ocean?"
A shiver went down Virgil's spine. How'd Scott guess?
"Penny lives in England. You couldn't get much further away from us than there. Now swallow your pride and eat." Scott resumed attacking his own meal.
Virgil thought for a moment. Why was he being stubborn over this? The reason why he wasn't eating was because he didn't trust what they were feeding him. Yet here was Scott hoeing into the food with impunity. Surely it wouldn't hurt…
Maybe he did trust them after all.
He picked up a plate and helped himself to some of the stew. Then he took the remaining half of the bread, a fork and retired to his own bed, making sure he was as far away from Scott as he could manage.
Scott hid his smile in a mouthful of bread roll and made no comment.
The meal was eaten in silence, broken only by the bubbling of the stew on the portable stove.
Scott helped himself to seconds, retrieving a second still warm roll from a bag. "There's more there if you want it, Brother."
Virgil looked at his empty plate. He could still taste the tender bits of meat, carrots, peas, onions…
He helped himself to seconds.
When they'd finished eating. Scott poured a couple of coffees out of the thermos and placed one on the table near Virgil. With no comment he returned to his cot and sat back to enjoy his own drink.
Virgil refrained from speaking himself and took up his mug...
Scott smiled at his family when he returned the meal things to the kitchen.
"Well?" his father asked and helped him with some of his paraphernalia.
Scott leant back against the kitchen counter and folded his arms. "Well he hasn't tried to kick me out, and he's had some of Grandma's stew. He enjoyed it so much he had seconds."
"That's no surprise," Gordon commented. "He loves her stew."
"Don't we all," Scott agreed.
"Has he said anything?" John asked.
"He looked pretty angry at first, but he seems to have calmed down. Initially he was still talking about leaving, but he hasn't said a lot since then."
"Do you think your plan's working?" Jeff asked.
"Well… Part one of the plan was to get him to eat something. Which I've done. Part two is to convince him to stay. If I'm lucky I'll also convince him that we are his family."
"Scott Tracy to the rescue again," Gordon stated. "If you can pull this off I'll take your place next time you're on Thunderbird Five duty."
Scott grinned and then rotated his shoulders uncomfortably. "I think I've put on weight. This shirt's a little tight."
John eyed him critically. "That's not fat, Scott, it's muscle. I warned you that if you spent too much time in the gym you'd give Thunderbird One a hernia."
Scott chuckled.
Jeff looked past them both. "Ah, Scott," he said quietly. "If you don't want Alan jealous of you as well as Virgil, it might pay to leave now."
"Huh?" naively Scott looked at his father and then back in the direction Jeff was looking.
Tin-Tin was staring at him. She started when she became aware that his gaze was on her and turned away, blushing furiously.
"Oh, heck," Scott muttered. "I'd better get back."
"I think that's a good idea," Jeff agreed.
Scott hurried out of the kitchen.
His grandmother sighed as she watched him leave. "Your father used to have a physique like that when he was Scott's age," she told Jeff. "All the girls in the town lusted after him, but he was mine…" She sighed again, gazing at the door through which Scott had just departed. "The things that body could do…"
"Mother!" Jeff exclaimed in horror.
She smiled girlishly at him. "It's alright, Jefferson. I'm thinking about your father, not your son."
Several hours had passed. Scott spent the time reading an aviation magazine and Virgil sat on his bed in a sullen silence, scowling at the other man who appeared to be blissfully unaware of the daggers that were being shot in his direction.
Eventually Scott looked at his watch. "Lights out in five minutes, Brother."
"What!"
"You heard me!"
"I thought this was supposed to be my room!"
"I thought you didn't believe that. I'm turning the lights out at twenty two hundred hours on the dot. You'd better be ready."
"In English?"
"Ten o-clock!" Scott said brusquely. "You've got four point six seven minutes now, Brother."
"Do you think that if you keep saying that I'll believe you?" Virgil asked petulantly.
"No. I'm saying it because it's the truth. You've got four point four eight minutes now… Brother."
Grumbling Virgil headed into the bathroom.
Scott grinned to himself…
…And turned the light out as promised, just as Virgil was re-entering the room. "Hey! I can't see."
He got no sympathy. "Go to bed!"
"How can I if I can't find my pyjamas."
"So they're your pyjamas now are they?"
Virgil was silent, but Scott could hear him stumbling about in the darkness. For his own part Scott didn't bother getting changed, contenting himself with removing his shoes and tight T-shirt. He climbed under the blankets on the cot and lay there listening to Virgil bump into something, curse mildly, and then manage to crawl into bed.
"Goodnight, Virgil," Scott said.
He had to admit to himself that he was disappointed when he didn't get a reply.
"Do you think this plan of Scott's is working?" Gordon asked.
"If anyone can get through to Virgil it's Scott," John said confidently.
"Good. 'Cause it'd be nice to have a complete night's sleep," Gordon noted.
"If you go to bed now, you'll be able to sleep for longer," his father told him.
"I don't want to go to bed. I want Scott to come out and tell me that everything's okay."
"Go to bed, Gordon," Jeff ordered.
"Aren't I a little old to be told to go to bed by my father?" Gordon asked.
Jeff Tracy gave him a look.
"I'm old enough to make up my own mind," Gordon stated and stood. "Night everyone."
He received a chorus of "Night, Gordon," as he traipsed out of the lounge…