I

Alfred returned to Ashford Hall the day before the most unusual Christmas of his life. For the first time in their short existence, the Ashfords and Campbells had not gathered for their usual frugal Christmas dinner. There were no cousins to play and sing with, no bagpipers, no drunken adults...

Grandmother Elizabeth and butler Scott Harman greeted him at the front of the house, along with two middle-aged people he didn't know. Elizabet's Dutch niece Sophie and her husband Lars. They had come to England to visit Elizabeth and meet Alfred.

Elizabeth introduced him and the little boy shook her hand, hiding his sadness. The dreadful first term at school culminated in a bleak Christmas. Fortunately, Sophie and Lars left as soon as dinner was over.

Alfred hated the attitude of his continental relatives.

They walked around the manor like a guided tour of Buckingham Palace. They asked all sorts of leading questions about his Stuart ancestry and the Ashford line. He was asked indelicately if his father could be king. Alfred replied that technically he could, as Veronica Ashford had never renounced her dynastic rights, but that they had no intention of claiming the Crown. The claim died with the death of Charles Edward Stuart[1]. At dinner, Alfred endured angry questioning from both relatives about Umbrella. The boy didn't know much about his father's work, and his father had made them swear never to talk about what he was really doing, lest the integrity of the family be compromised. So he kept his mouth shut and gave way to Elizabeth, who answered their unwelcome questions with subtle eloquence.

The highlight of the day came when Sophie and Lars gave him a huge present. He opened it without waiting until the next morning and discovered an Atari 2600 with three video games: Space Invaders, Breakout and Flag Capture. Alfred recognised the machine from advertisements in the newspapers his father read.

With the couple saying goodbye and his grandmother warning him not to stay up too late, Alfred set about connecting the console to the television in their private upstairs living room. He struggled with the setup until, through trial and error, he found the right ports. He switched on the console to play Space Invaders, and the TV responded by manifesting a colourful cathode ray universe of moving pixels [2]. The repetitive scrolling of vertically aligned amorphous blobs mesmerised him. Paralysed, he waited for the first row of aliens to crash into the turret stationed at the bottom of the screen. He restarted the game by pressing the only available button on the joystick controller. The aliens and the turret returned to their positions. Alfred moved the joystick sideways. The turret moved right and then left. When he pressed the button, it shot upwards. He killed his first alien. The second. The third, the fourth, the fifth and the sixth. A whole row of invaders disappeared as the numbers on the counter at the top went crazy.

II

At five o'clock in the morning, Harman was inspecting the rooms when he heard a shrill noise coming from the private room. Startled, he rushed in.

Sitting on the floor, Alfred was manipulating a device far removed from Harman's old-fashioned understanding. Like Pavlov's pigeon, the boy pressed a button on a plastic stick. With each action of the remote control, the television emitted a thunderous beep that shattered his eardrums, a vulgar electronic noise that seemed to have been composed by Lucifer. Alfred, static, stared at the chaotic whirl of lights and beeps as if possessed: deep circles stretched under his eyelids and the veined ramifications of his irritated eyes were visible to the naked eye. At the boy's alarming state, Harman reflexively turned off the television.

Alfred finally reacted. Inexpressively, he turned off the console. He stood up with a start. And without turning his attention to Harman, he left the room like a soul in pain. The butler approached the diabolical device. Its plastic casing burned like a furnace. Disturbed, he withdrew his hand from the unfamiliar device, fearing for the boy's physical and mental health.

III

For the Christmas dinner, Alexander hired a celebration company to decorate the mansion he had purchased on the outskirts of Cambridge, Massachusetts. Fifty guests were invited to enjoy a hodgepodge of Scottish and Irish cuisine and a selection of wines that cost more than the sum of several Harvard tuitions. The colourful entourage included academics, politicians and businessmen.

Academics congratulated Alexander on his daughter's genius, politicians sought his opinion on the upcoming British election and businessmen cheered on Umbrella Pharmaceuticals.

Alexia stayed until the end of the dinner. Alexander escorted her to her room and kissed her goodnight. His breath reeked of alcohol and he stumbled over the edge of the bed as he tried to tuck her daughter in, though he made an effort to remain functional and would not tolerate anyone in the room overreacting to her. It was the first time Alexia had seen her father so talkative and brazen, as if he were someone else; a provocative and sarcastic person. Shortly after dinner, he showed off his muscular body to a group of male and female guests. One of the spectators, imitating his father, tore off the top of his suit to show his manhood. Suddenly, the man and Alexander were engaged in a painless, gloved boxing match. Alexia watched from the detached, safe distance afforded by the embarrassment of others. By the time Alexander joined her, he had at least put his shirt and jacket back on.

Alexia got out of bed. Outside her bedroom she slipped into her father's office. Sliding the lock inside, she sat down in the bulky leather chair. She picked up the phone on her right and dialled +44.

IV

It was snowing and cold outside. Lying on the sofa, Alfred had wrapped himself in his tartan blanket. Bored, he waited for the clock to strike five so he could finish eating last night's appeltaart[3] while his grandmother drank her tea.

He heard footsteps. Harman appeared at his side.

"Lord Alfred, Lady Alexia is on the phone."

Alfred jumped up from the sofa, throwing the blanket to the floor. He trotted over to the phone, which was off the hook. Nervously, he picked up the receiver and put it to his tiny ear.

"Si? Hello? Alexia?"

"Alfred." Alexia's distorted voice.

Alfred smiled. It was the first time he had heard her voice since September. Until that day, their communication had been based on an exchange of letters and postcards.

"Hi," Alexia continued. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas! Have you opened your presents?"

"No. The party goes on."

"Oh... Is dad with you?"

"No. He's downstairs. At the party. What were your presents?"

"An Atari 2600!" cried Alfred excitedly. "It's amazing! You have to try it. It came with three games. There's one where you kill aliens with a spaceship, and I got a lot of points…"

"I wish I was with you."

"Um... Why? What's wrong?"

Alexia sighed.

"Is it because of dad?" Alfred continued.

"No. It's because of everyone."

Alfred knew immediately what she meant.

"People look at you funny and talk behind your back," Alfred said.

"Yes."

"People are stupid. It's not fair that they're so mean to you."

"I'm different."

"You're not. You're just like me."

Alexia did not answer.

"Just that you learn faster, but that's okay. That's what adults want... Hum. Adults are stupid."

Alexia laughed on the other side.

"Something just happened."

Alexia told Alfred about the impromptu boxing match between Alexander and the guest.

"Adults are weird," Alfred concluded.

There was a moment of silence between them.

"I'm tired." Alexia yawned.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas."

They hung up.

[1] Charles Edward Louis John Sylvester Maria Casimir Stuart was the elder son of James Francis Edward Stuart, grandson of James VII and II, and the Stuart claimant to the thrones of England, Scotland, and Ireland from 1766 as Charles III. During his lifetime, he was also known as "the Young Pretender" and "the Young Chevalier"; in popular memory, he is known as Bonnie Prince Charlie.

[2] Atari 2600, Space Invaders. watch?v=_ftVrgJTl4w

[3] Dutch Apple Pie.