16

Sorry! Had some catching up to do writing wise! thank you so much for your last set of reviews, you are all very kind and I am so glad that you are enjoying it. We are back with the boys the now.

Virgil was tinkering with the tractor again. It still wasn't ticking over properly and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. He had drained the old oil and found the filter was overdue a change, it was full of scum and muck. Virgil then inserted the new one and filled it up with fresh oil, his hands still slick with grime. He slid back under the tractor and did one last check to ensure there were no leaks and the filter was secure before starting the engine. "Damn it!" the noise was still there, he shut the ignition off irritated. Why was nothing simple lately? He threw the rag down in frustration pulling up one of the sleeves that had slipped down on his navy overalls. He took a seat on one of the bales and grabbed a drink, he was sweating from the exertion of getting under the tractor multiple times. He leaned back on the bale one handed, he couldn't believe it had been five days since his father had gone missing. It seemed like a life time ago, there wasn't a day he didn't feel both his parent's absences keenly. He just prayed his father would return soon, the longer a person was missing the less likely they would be found…. He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. He was still reeling from the loss of his mother and grandfather; losing his father would be more than devastating, it would break him. Although Virgil was starting to discover that not knowing the truth was just as torturous. He hated to think he was just sat here whilst his father was stranded alone somewhere, fighting for survival.

He shook his head; he had come out here to get away from these macabre thoughts that refused to leave him. Usually he would seek solace through his art or musical talents but since mom died his artistic flare seemed to have died with her. He couldn't see the beauty in things the same way that he did. He was sure the feeling would pass in time but right now he just couldn't face bringing the brush to canvas. His creativity had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. His mother's art was her legacy; a month before she died, she had painted five A2 sized portraits of each of her children. They were simply breath taking. Virgil hoped to be able to paint portraits in that kind of detail; she captured each one of her sons features right from Scott's strong jawline, John's razor-sharp cheekbones, Gordon's mischievous eyes, Alan's handsome but youthful looks and Virgil's honey coloured irises.

He had taken to playing on the piano most nights but he couldn't concentrate on his favourites, choosing to free style in his own compositions instead. Most nights since the accident his hands ghosted the keys his mother once played, helping him feel closer to her. It didn't relieve the pain but it did bring some comfort to him. The only trouble was his sadness flowed from him in a melancholy melody, enough to bring his grandmother to tears last night so he didn't think he would be playing again for a while either. He didn't want his feelings to add to the sadness his family already felt. Hopefully in time it would become less raw for them all.

He stood up and walked back towards the tractor. "Hey, need a hand?" Gordon strolled into the barn, the light outside obscuring his features in shadow at the entrance, the sun brought out the red hues in his hair.

"Yeah; that would be welcome thank you." Virgil picked up a spanner ready to adjust the tappets, if that wasn't the problem then it was most likely the one of the tappets, values or even the camshaft that could be damaged - which would be an absolute ball ache to repair. Gordon rolled up his sleeves.

"Don't want some overalls? This could get messy." Virgil pointed to some hanging up nearby.

"Nah doesn't matter if I get dirty does it?" Gordon thought his parents weren't here to scold him anyway. What he wouldn't give for mum to shout at him for getting oil on his clothes again.

"I don't think Grandma would agree with you." Virgil smiled.

"Hmmm, good point!" Gordon snatched a pair off the hooks.

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"Look I've been on hold for the last thirty minutes; I'm just trying to determine if there have been any additional developments in my father's missing persons case." Scott explained in barely restrained frustration. It had been like this all morning. Phone call after phone call, passed back and forth between the embassy, local police departments, government bodies. From what he could determine so far, they were relying on the public to report sightings rather than look for his dad. The argument being that because the planes last known location had been so far out to sea there wasn't much hope for him to be found but Scott simply refused to give up.

"I'm sorry Mr. Tracy but he is unavailable right now you will need to call back in a couple of hours."

"That's what they said last time! Look here's my number…." Scott rattled it off. "Tell Mr. Raja I expect a call from him today to discuss my dad's case."

"Very well Mr. Tracy"

"Thank you" said Scott rather too curtly as he hung up the phone and tossed it on the desk in frustration. He ran his hands down his face and leant back, the chair automatically reclining as he did so. This morning had already been a nightmare, word was out now that the famous millionaire Jeff Tracy was missing. The phone had been non stop for comments all morning, Scott knew better than to give one. At least with the word out it meant that it was being shared far and wide on the internet and social media, if anyone had seen his dad he hoped they would report in a sighting although there had already been a least two hundred claims of sightings this morning everywhere from the United Kingdom to Australia. As Scott had anticipated the stocks had plummeted but word had been heavily circulated that Scott Tracy, Jeff's eldest son was set to inherit the company and was currently standing in as CEO. This afternoon the steep decline had petered somewhat, nowhere near recovered but to be fair it was one of the last worries on his list.

A knock at the door broke him from his reverie. "Come in" he sighed.

"Are you coming out of here today young man?" Grandma peered around the door.

"Erm yeah, but there's some business I need to attend to first and I'm waiting for Gerry to call." (Gerry was the family lawyer). Scott's face was stuck in a frown, he might as well have been hitting a brick wall with his head all morning. He hadn't managed to see any of his priorities to fruition and he hated it when he couldn't cross a task off his checklist completely. His hand was itching like crazy as it healed, he tried to scratch it with a pen underneath the bandage but it was too tight. He threw the pen in frustration.

Grandma had noticed Scott was not far from ticking over, the tenseness in his neck and shoulders from the stress visable. It wasn't good for him. "Right, come on!" Grandma urged for him to come with her.

"But the call!"

"You've got a mobile, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah" –

"No more butts then, come and walk with me." Her tone and expression brokered no arguments.

"Okay if you insist." He stood up and stretched awkwardly before following her out. She paused by the door to grab a bag and a crate; she gave Scott the bag. He looked at her in disbelief. "We're going apple picking? but I've got so much to do!"

"Is it too much to ask for me to spend some quality time with my eldest grandson?" she sighed exasperated. All the other boys had been clamouring for her attention but she hadn't seen Scott since she arrived the day before yesterday. She had found out a lot since then.

"No, no! I'm just surprised!" He dutifully threw on an old pair or boots he didn't think he still had; his mom must have kept them for some reason though he was pretty sure he'd thrown them in the bin on his last visit.

They traipsed out into the yard and over to the end of the small garden where the gate led through to the orchard. The sunlight played through the trees kissing the ground between the shadows as they entered. It wasn't a large orchard but big enough to grow a good range of eating as well as cooking apples. They used to host an apple fair every year until the boys left home, it was an old Tracy tradition in the community. They would most likely be sent for cider this year. Scott hadn't been apple picking alone with his grandma since he was a child. It was one of his favourite things to do when he was younger, mostly because he knew he got apple pie at the end of it.

They started to pick through the recently fallen apples in companionable silence. Personally, Scott preferred the ones still on the tree that twisted off in your hands. He reached up to check how ready they were. "How's your hand?" Grandma asked conversationally.

"Yeah not bad, it just twinges every now and then but its pretty itchy." Scott carefully added a few more apples to the bag.

"Must have been a big knife, its quite a wound." His grandma had seen it the other night when she insisted on changing the bandages for him, not that he minded if it made her feel better. Grandma had been quiet and tearful initially but today she seemed much happier in herself, probably because she was in her element caring for them. None of the boys would admit it to each other but they were all overjoyed to have their grandmother home, she brought a comforting reassurance that they had all been missing. She made the house feel like home again.

"Yeah it was" you have no idea he thought to himself.

"Did you get hurt anywhere else whilst you were fighting in the dirt?" Grandma was busy adding some apples to the crate. The apple Scott had just been about to pick bounced out of his hand and onto his head thanks to his lapse in concentration. "Ow! Sorry what did you say?" Scott tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

His grandma placed a hand on her hip. "You heard me Scott Tracy. You didn't think Maggie would tell me you boys were in trouble?" Scott groaned of course he should have known. Maggie was Alan's godmother after all.

"Its all-in hand grandma that's one of the reasons I'm waiting to hear from Gerry."

"Scott, I don't care its all-in hand. I want you to start taking care of yourself."

"I am" he replied defensively. Grandma crossed her arms and looked at him.

"No, you're not. You are so busy reacting to everyone else's needs and pre-empting their every move you haven't even thought about yourself. You could have got killed! why didn't you phone the police in the first place?"

"I knew they were in trouble I had to get them out of there! That guy was dangerous!"

"Exactly! that's what law enforcement is for, not older brothers! That man could have stabbed you and your brothers could have been helpless as you bled out. Do you think they would come back from that knowing they had been the ones to sneak out and get into that situation?"

Scott looked devastated at the very thought, he hadn't even considered that as an angle. He had been so angry that his brothers risked themselves in that way and yet he had done exactly the same – hadn't he? He looked pained at the realisation.

She gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can't shield them forever Scott" Grandma said gently.

"I know, I guess its just intensified since mom and dad have... gone." She nodded in understanding.

"You have done a fantastic job Scott you really have; I know your parents would be so proud of you! but they wouldn't want to see you suffer. You will burn yourself out if you continue. You need to learn to open up and delegate these responsibilities. You can't control it all to protect others at the sake of your own wellbeing."

He thought about it. He hadn't stopped since mom and grandpa died. He was the one who got the family home after the disaster, he was the one who oversaw all his brother's wellbeing's, the farm, the business, his dad's care and now search and rescue operations in a bid to locate him. Protecting the others had protected him from his own feelings by not giving him time to feel. He didn't want to feel anything he realised. He didn't want to let go of the responsibilities because then he would have free time to contemplate and process his own emotions instead of compartmentalizing them.

He sat on the bench under the trees. His grandmother sat bedside him. He couldn't bring himself to voice his thoughts to her. She could see he was struggling on some internal level. He wasn't a talker, just like his father. They didn't do 'emotions' as they would call it. This was hard for him. She waited patiently. "Talk to me Scott, you know I'm here for you."

He squeezed her hand lightly but remained silent. After a few minutes he sighed and stood up "Honestly grandma I'm ok, I'm just stressed from the phone call earlier. It will pass." He offered his hand to her. She took it gratefully but was saddened that he couldn't confide in her, maybe in time. She just hoped he had listened to her advice. Scott picked up the sack of apples and swung it up over his shoulder one handed. Grandma picked up the crate and followed him out of the orchard.

"Did Maggie tell you about the charges?"

"Yes. I know the boys are sorry for the trouble they have caused. Alan was quite upset."

"Did she tell you about mine?"

"I'm sorry Scott, I am sure it will work out though. The man can't honestly think he will win?"

"I'm hoping the worst it will amount to is a warning but it could complicate things for me at work."

"Are you worried?" Scott held the gate open for her.

"I'm not worried but I am concerned, the rest of my record is so clean I'm hoping they can look on this as a small indiscretion." Scott was anxious about it, that's why he had called Gerry he was hoping for some sound advice.

They were just heading across the garden when they noticed John sprinting towards them, his blonde hair flipped out of place by the motion. He was in peak condition so it was no surprise he wasn't breathless when he reached them. "There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Why what's wrong?" Scott wondered what he had missed.

"I think I've found dad's plane!" John exclaimed his excitement at his discovery evident.