"Bertie, I've decided you're going to start piano lessons." said Aunt Dahlia entering the room with Angela at her heels.
"Your father was an excellent pianist. I think it's time you followed in his shoes." I had been in the middle of a particularly juicy chase between Sherlock Holmes and the bad guy, but it would have to wait.
"I have no desire to learn the music of dead men, Aunt Dahlia."
"You will learn, young Bertie. When we have company over I need to have something to entertain them with. You will be that something." Said Aunt Dahlia.
"No. No, no, no, no, no. I shall not." I said, crossing my arms and sitting firm.