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Driving Lessons Chapter 38 - Waiting for the End of the World
England found himself sat on a sofa in Buckingham Palace ruminating on how his life had unravelled. He sat between the two world's superpowers.
America on one side was still dressed in his US Air Force uniform. He was still wearing his goggles and seemed to be playing some kind of game on his phone. On the other side was Russia who was also playing a game. It looked like a series of falling blocks on the screen.
"What's that?" England asked, purely out of boredom.
"Pokemon," America replied.
"Not you, I was talking to Russia."
"It's an iphone. China gave it to me."
"No, I mean the game."
"Oh. It is tetris. I am the number one champion at it," Russia replied.
America snorted, "Yeah right. You wish."
"I am.
"I doubt that."
"You want to fight me over it?"
America stood up and took a Karate (or 'karat-ay') pose.
Russia stared at him, "What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna wup yo ass!" America drawled.
"Wut?"
"Much as it would be interesting to see the world come to an end over an argument over who is better at Tetris, I have to break this up," England said, stepping between them.
"Yeah where's your dude boss?" America asked. "She asked us here."
"She asked me here," England reminded him. "Not you."
"She's not a dude. She's a real human woman!" Russia said, his eyes shining.
England hoped very much that Russia wasn't getting a crush on his boss.
One would have expected that a car would have been sent to pick up England speed him to the Palace as one of high importance.
That did not happen.
He'd had to catch the number 9 bus and then the number 11. He'd wisely waived Prussia's offer to give him a 'backy' on their shared bicycle. He did not think this would give the right impression - arriving at the Palace perched on the handlebars of Prussia's bike.
"What happened again? Nobody will tell me anything?" he asked.
"Well mad Uncle Hamish ran out of whisky and then got all arsy with someone and was throwing his weight around. Someone told him that you of all people were a better Nation than him. It might have been Portugal, but I don't know, dude… but Uncle Hamish thought it was dude Tony so he got in touch with dude Tony but couldn't and got that little kid Gibraltar. Anyway…"
"What? You mean Portugal stuck up for me?" England's eyes glistened.
"Hey I don't know, man! He always seemed flakey. Anyway… Gibraltar said he wasn't going to leave you, or he might have said EU, but I don't know what that means. Then King Malcolm got on the phone and…"
"When was all this?"
"Let me finish, man! Anyway then my new boss got on the phone and thought they were all Mexicans threatening you and told them he was going to build a huge ass wall. But then King Malcolm said he was taking over and that he would send a Tartan Army over and then my boss hung up. But then King Malcolm declared war on little dude Gibraltar and little dude Gibraltar said to bring it on!"
England stared at him, "None of that even made sense! Have you just got all that from the gossip grapevine?"
"Might have," America said sulkily.
"Don't tell me. Hungary told Ukraine who told Poland who told Spain that Scotland and Malcolm were being arsey?"
America shrugged.
"Da. They are very silly," Russia nodded.
England shook his head, "Anyway, why am I stuck out here? I could be sorting things out. Who knows what's happening in there?" he pointed at the large double doors in front of them.
Russia nodded, "You are right, England. We should go and look."
"Yes! We will!" England said standing up decisively.
Russia headed for the doors, "Come on England! Let us sort this out and be heroes!"
"Are you with us, Alfred?" England asked, turning to America.
America shrugged, "Nah. I've got places to go and people to see!" he said and stood up.
"What?"
"I got a job, dude!" America shouted and hurried off.
England stared after him. He was so shocked from this earth-shattering revelation that he didn't respond when Russia grabbed him and flung him into the room.
He expected to find a conference room full of diplomats talking, a few video screens showing a worried looking Spain, a few heads of state, ministers of defence, a few prime ministers, even a president or two on video link trying to calm the situation.
There was a woman vacuuming.
"I don't think this is right," Russia said.
"Really?" England asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Da," Russia answered. Sarcasm not really registering with him.
It had taken them a long time to find the correct room, having interrupted two of the Queen's grandchildren having a tea party (Russia had wanted to stay and England had had to drag him out), interrupted the Duke of Edinburgh having a bath and then walked into a room where a man (England thought he was a Member of Parliament) was drinking heavily and crying. They had backed out quickly.
When England did find the right room, he found the Prime Minister - a woman who had the look of someone on the edge of sanity - telling a distraught-looking Spain by video-link that they would not bomb his country despite what everybody said.
The UK Foreign Minister was chasing Scotland around the room trying to take the whisky bottle from him.
"Ach you big blond loony!" Scotland yelled. "Yer cannae take my Scotch from me!"
"What on earth is going on?" England asked.
"Yer no allowed in 'ere!" King Malcolm told him.
"Says who?" said King Henry.
"Who are you?" King Malcolm asked looking him up and down.
"I'm King Henry VI!" squeaked King Henry VI.
England wished he wouldn't keep forgetting the dead king was still with him.
"I dinnae care," King Malcolm said.
"We are not going to bomb you!" the Prime Minister told a scared looking Spain.
"I hope not because you have nuclear weapons and I don't and it wouldn't be fair!" Spain said.
"This has all been a misunderstanding," someone else piped up.
"Listen, Spain, was it Gibraltar who told you this? Because he can be a little idiot," England said.
"Yer no longer the personification of the United Kingdom so butt out!" Scotland told him.
He was obviously drunk, his breath almost knocked England out.
"No, it was Poland!" Spain said, answering England earlier question. "But yes, Gib is not happy either."
"Bloody gossip grapevine!"
But then the video-link went off and another one came on.
"Who's that?" England asked as he took a seat at the table and began pouring himself a cup of tea.
The Foreign Minister had plonked himself down next to him and was sweating profusely. "How should I know?"
"Erm because you're the Foreign Minister?" England said and then added, "I say! You'd think he'd look a bit smarter, wouldn't you?"
England was right. The French President looked as if he'd been partying hard. His collar was torn, his tie askew (England was glad and slightly amazed he was wearing a tie) and he had lipstick marks on his cheeks.
England took a sip of tea and found it wasn't tea. The teapot had contained Irn Bru. He spat it out.
"That's the final straw!" he yelled, totally not listening to the French President telling the British Prime Minister that he couldn't condone a bombing attack on Spain.
England jumped to his feet. "Who in God's name put Irn Bru in a teapot?"
"It were me!" Scotland said. "What yer goin' to do about it?"
England leapt on him.
But before he could do any serious damage to his older brother, the door was flung open and the Duke of Edinburgh came in, looking very annoyed and wearing just a bathrobe.
The old Duke uttered such a torrent of abuse at them that England was in awe.
The Prime Minister just stared, whilst the French President disappeared from view to be replaced with France himself who looked utterly gleeful.
Scotland stood up and straightened his kilt.
The Duke still had soap suds in his sparse hair. "Some fool wrecked my bathroom!" he yelled.
"It's raining in here!" someone said.
"Don't be bloody stupid…" England said and looked up and saw a huge damp patch on the ceiling and then realisation hit him. "Oh no…"
"Russia?!" King Henry VI said.
"You brought Russia in here?" the Prime Minister went very pale.
The Foreign Minister ducked under the table and looked as if he were going to stay there.
King Malcolm pulled out his Claymore.
"I don't think there's any need for that…" England said.
Suddenly alarm bells were ringing and a host of armed guards charged in.
"I say!" England exclaimed. "Is there any need for any of this?"
But he didn't get to say anything else as they, including the dead medieval Kings, were hustled out and down several flights of stairs into what the security guards called a bunker.
"Is this the one Winston used during the Blitz?" England asked the Duke.
The Duke ignored him. He was still in a bathrobe and looked very annoyed.
"Why did yer no keep an eye on yon Ivan?" Scotland asked England. "Yer a complete imbecile!"
"Why am I in charge of him?" England protested. "We lost him!"
"How can yer lose someone as big as Russia?" Scotland pointed out.
King Malcolm nodded, "I agree with Hamish."
"I don't! You try babysitting him!" King Henry suddenly piped up, for once.
They all stared at him.
"He's a demon…" King Henry whispered and shivered and then went back to his default position - hiding in a corner trembling.
"Riiiiiight…" England said.
"We still have a war to avert," someone said.
England wondered who it was that had uttered something so sensible. He assumed he was the only sane person in the room.
It was Canada.
"I've been in touch with my boss and he's talking with the Spanish Prime Minister. He's offered to mediate," Canada told them.
"Where in the name of Typhoo tea did you come from?"
"I've been here all the time."
"I don't care!" shouted the Duke. "I was trying to take a bloody bath and then this moron's pet moron," here he pointed at England, "Wrecked the plumbing!"
"I'm not responsible for stray Nations!" England protested.
All this was going on whilst the Prime Minister was trying to continue a telephone conversation in the background.
"I don't care about your tomatoes!" she finally said down the phone to Spain.
Everyone turned round.
England's bushy eyebrows went up. "Well…" he said. He knew that was the wrong thing to say to Spain.
The PM suddenly put the phone down and looked at them all, "The Nation of Spain has just declared war on US!"
"You insulted his tomatoes," England said quietly.
"Aye well, let him come and invade us! We'll show him, won't we Malcolm?" Scotland said.
Malcolm nodded.
England shook his head sadly.
"Come on! Let's rally the Highland Regiment!" Scotland said and was about to storm out with King Malcolm when he was distracted by a simple office swivel chair...
Then the tea trolley came in which really lifted England's mood.
"Shouldn't you be going out there and finding Russia?" The Duke of Edinburgh asked.
"Why me?" England said, grabbing a cup of tea and trying to ignore his older brother, now the personification of the UK, going round and round on a swivel chair.
"Because you bloody well brought him!" somebody said.
"Let the special forces teams do their work. That's what they're paid to do," England said and then added, "Are there any bourbon creams?"
The huge treble steel door to the bunker was flung open, almost crushing the guards behind it and some people came in who England would have preferred to really not see again.
"I thought I left you lot in the bloody tea room!" England said, staring at Germany, George I, George II and Queen Elizabeth (the first, not the second).
"Oh Arthur! I'm so pleased to see you again!" Queen Elizabeth I said to him, hugging him. "This lot are useless. Bunch of boring Germans!"
"We have been wandering around the Palace for the past 24 hours!" Germany was appalled.
"What?"
"We got arrested to my great and eternal shame. In the gift shop. King George II tried to steal a keychain."
"It was a nice keychain," King George II said.
"Where's George III?" England asked.
Germany shook his head, "We lost him somewhere in the vegetable garden. He was talking to a marrow."
"Sad."
"I convinced your Police to drop all charges but then they brought us back here," Germany continued. "I felt I was in charge of these monarchs. After all they are all related to my old kings, but they are a bit of handful."
England smirked but nodded.
"Even more so than Italy," Germany lamented.
England realised that the German looked exhausted.
"Cup of tea?" England asked him.
"Has anybody seen my bear?" Canada asked them.
"Bare what?" came a French voice from the spare video-link in the corner.
England, who had actually been in the same building as Mr Kumajiro but had not noticed him, shrugged. After all who would notice a polar bear in shorts, Nike t-shirt and sweatbands?
Someone got hold of France's video-link screen and placed it face down on the desk. But he continued talking. In French. To himself.
"I think he said he was playing badminton with Mr Panda," Canada continued.
"I think you're losing your mind," Germany said. "All of you," he added, looking around.
"I really hope her Majesty is okay," England said, looking worried and then added, brightening up considerably. "Oh! Are those jammy dodgers?" The day was looking up.
The door was flung open again.
A cold wind blew into the room. The video-screens crackled and went off. The phones cut off and the lights flickered.
"Privyet, comrades!"
"Russia!" England spluttered jammy dodger crumbs all over the Prime Minister.
"Da!" Russia had two small children in his arms and was followed by Her Majesty, who did not look impressed. "There's an emergency! I saved your Queen and these two small children who told me they were a prince and princess. They've eaten all my sweets!" he looked sad about this.
"We were down here because of you!" England told him.
"Me? Why me?" Russia looked astounded.
Nobody answered. Nobody wanted to tell Russia that they thought he was a psychopathic nutter.
"So are you going to war with Spain then?" Russia asked cheerily, putting the two children down. He waved to them.
"It looks as if we are, yes…" England said. For some reason and to everyone's amazement (and Germany's utter disgust) the two children clung to his trousers.
"Can I join in?" Russia said.
"NO!" the Prime Minister yelled and then sat down with her head in her hands.
Russia glared at her.
"On whose side though?" England said, feeding half a biscuit to one of the children. He hadn't dealt with small children since America was small. And then he suddenly realised something…
"Where's America?" one of the civil servants asked suddenly.
"Across the Atlantic Ocean," Russia replied. He picked up a custard cream happily. "You have the best biscuits, England," he added. Bizarrely, the lights, telephones and all the communication devices all suddenly spurted back to life as the big Arctic Nation smiled as he bit into a biscuit.
"No, the Nation? Because the President of the United States told us that if we lost his Nation then he would not be happy."
"Well you can tell him from me that Alfred's got a job!" England said.
Germany almost fell over. "Is this wise? A job? He could cause carnage!"
"I told him to…" England said lamely.
Everyone gasped.
Russia stared at him. "I had a job once. As a bodyguard. I was so good that the person I bodyguarded said that they never needed one again. I don't know why they said this from under their desk."
Queen Elizabeth II and Queen Elizabeth I left the bunker, chatting with the two children between them. The Duke went out, still in his bathrobe and still muttering dark curses at England. The two Georges stayed, still in their massive wigs and looking very out of place (England thought that they wouldn't look in place anywhere really).
The Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister suddenly left the bunker, citing that they needed a stiff drink.
Scotland was drinking whisky and going round and round on a swivel chair, watched in fascination and envy by King Malcolm.
It looked as if he, England, was left in charge. He straightened his tie and poured another tea.
A civil servant suddenly piped up, "Oh my God! I've got multiple calls coming in from the London Metropolitan Police! The whole city is at a standstill. They've had to call in the Army! Everything is gridlocked. It looks as if, from the intelligence I've gathered from Special Branch that some concerted effort has been made to completely halt the City. We think it could be some cyber attack or something!"
"I thought it would be an Armada across the Channel?" Canada said, looking puzzled.
"They don't have one now," Germany told him. "Thanks to him," he looked at England.
"And so it begins…The Anglo-Spanish War," England said dramatically. He wished he had his Royal Navy uniform on and his eye-patch so he looked like Nelson.
"Well, it's very odd. It's all centred around a pizzeria in South London…" a civil servant said wearing a headset.
The Nations all looked at each other (apart from Scotland who was still whizzing round and round on the swivel chair looking the happiest he'd looked since he'd wrecked Hadrian's Wall).
"Oh no…" Germany whispered.
"Could it be called Vargas Pizzeria?" Russia asked.
To be continued...