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Driving Lessons Chapter 96 - Our House

England ran into the house, can everyone please please tidy up?" He shouted.

"Why?" Prussia asked. He had claimed to be 'exhausted' after apparently cleaning the total of four windows and was now drinking beer, burping and checking his twitter account.

"The social worker's here!" England said.

"Are they going to take the kid away?" Prussia asked. There was something that looked like tears leaking from one of his eyes.

Russia growled and suddenly took out a faucet pipe from within the folds of his huge Army coat (it was 15 degrees outside). "I will have words," he rumbled.

England put a hand on his arm and then took it away again quickly. "No. We'll sort this out."

"Yeah let the Russian sort her out." Prussia said.

Russia picked up Charlemagne and hurried upstairs. They could hear crashing and furniture being moved around upstairs.

"Siege," Prussia said.

"Wow. Europeans," America said.

"Angelina Gopnick," Turkmenistan announced as if he were England's butler. Which he wasn't.

"Angelina! That's a funny name!" America said as he was shoved up the stairs by England along with Prussia, and Denmark (who still had a saucepan stuck on his head) but they were stopped by a wardrobe at the top.

"Bugger," England said. If they acted like they normally did - i.e. imbecilic, then surely the child would be taken from them. In one sense England thought this was a Good Thing. On the other hand he suspected Russia might cause World War Three and that was surely a Bad Thing.

Upstairs, France could be heard arguing with Russia about the colour on England's walls. Russia seemed to think it was not an appropriate colour for a man. But then England could hear Russia make disparaging remarks about England's gender status.

The social worker was a severe looking woman in a tweed suit, long dark hair and a face that looked as if it had never smiled. Ever. She did not look like an 'Angelina'.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Turkmenistan asked her.

There was an ominous rumbling upstairs and the ceiling shuddered.

"Eet eez not blood red! Eet eez in no way the colour of ze Steppes after ze Mongol Hordes have trampled over it!" France could be heard yelling.

"Erm no, that's fine," the woman said.

England was shaking his head at Turkmenistan furiously before the gormless Stan could ask her if she wanted alcohol.

The social worker looked around the room. There was Den (still with a bucket on his head), Prussia sat beside him tweeting furiously and America playing some video game.

England took the X-box controller from him and switched off the television.

"Hey! I was playing that!"

"A terrible violent game. You should be ashamed, Alfred!" England admonished him and looked to see if the social worker was aware of his brilliant parenting skills.

"It's Animal Crossing!" America responded.

"Well… Miss, Mrs, Ms…?" England began.

The woman looked at her clipboard. "Where's the child? I've got him registered here as Charlemagne?"

"He's upstairs having his nap," England replied.

There was a crash from upstairs.

"Moving his cot nearer the window," England added.

"I see…" she said. "And you are?"

"He's English," America said, his arms crossed. He was feeling very much put out.

"So you're Arthur…" here she checked her clipboard, "Arthur Ignatius Wellington Kirkland?"

There were sniggers in the room.

"Who is Forrest Strange?" the social worker read from her clipboard.

"Who the bloody hell is that?" Arthur said loudly. "And what a stupid bloody name…"

"Mmmfff" came a voice from inside the bucket.

"He said it's him," Prussia said, pointing at the Den.

"He's had an accident," England said. Wondering why on earth Den had used such an alias. But then again it was better than Gorm Bloodsword.

"Apparently he is the primary caregiver?" The woman asked. She looked at England. "Along with Frederick Wolfbasket?" She frowned.

"That'll be me," Prussia said and shook her hand. "Wow," he said in a stage whisper to England. "A real human woman person!"

England dead-armed him. This was not going well. He looked outside the window and saw Turkmenistan's yak looking back in at them and screamed in fright.

"Is there something wrong, Mr Kirkland?" Ms Gopnick asked.

England quickly shut the curtains as the yak licked the window. "Nope, nothing absolutely nothing."

"Kids should have sunlight, moron," Prussia said, opening the curtains. He too yelled in surprise and then shut them again.

"Get rid of your yak," England hissed at Turkmenistan.

Turkmenistan hurried outside and then could be heard talking to someone. England assumed it was the yak - assuming the yak was called 'Your Royal Highness'. Who knew? Turkmenistan was a strange little bugger.

"So I need to see Charlemagne," Ms Gopnick said.

"He's having his nap. Really," England said, and edged back towards the window to see what was happening and then screamed again.

"What's wrong with you?" America hissed at him and he peered through, saw who was there and screamed also. "Oh my God! I love her!" He said.

"Shut up!" England said.

"And you are?" Miss Gopnick asked America.

"I'm a massive fan of the Duchess of…" he began but there was a knock on the door.

England went to the kitchen door, opened it, saw who was there and that the person there would surely dob them in as terrible parents and shut the door again quickly.

"Can I see the child then?" Ms Gopnick said.

"Now?" England asked from the kitchen, holding the door closed. But he could hear the new next door neighbour having a conversation with the person he was holding the door closed against. He very quickly opened the door, pulled the person in and hissed "Don't say anything or I will end you!" And without even looking at the person, shoved them into the pantry and jammed a chair up against the door.

"Yes now!" Ms Gopnick said.

"I'll get him," Den said, stood up, tried again fruitlessly to get the saucepan off his head and sat back down.

"Ivan! Francis! You need to bring Charlie downstairs!" England shouted up the stairs.

There was a rumble upstairs.

"Ms Gopnick says so," Prussia shouted.

"A real human woman person?" Russia suddenly came to the top of the stairs, shoving a chest of drawers out of the way.

Prussia winced. Honestly, his fellow Nations were so not 'cool'. "Yeah."

France appeared next to him, smoothing down his glorious hair, undoing the top three buttons on his shirt to show off his chest and spraying himself liberally with some awful 'perfum'. Russia, stood next to him, wrinkled his nose and looked horrified.

They fought their way down the stairs together, each trying to get in front of the other, before Russia shoved France out of the way, attempted to flatten his own hair a little (it was already flat and boring), straighten his army coat and his medal. "Where is she?"

"Where's the dude kid?" Prussia asked.

England, stood in the lounge with the social worker, Prussia tweeting someone, Den with a saucepan on his head, America trying to grab his X-Box Playthingy controller off him and all the while trying to ignore the shouts and bangs from the pantry and his trapped prisoner. "Bloody Scotsmen," he muttered.

There was another bang on the kitchen door and then the door flew open.

England ran in and was amazed to see his brother, Scotland covered in snow, drunk and wearing just a kilt. "Wha…wha… how?" He spluttered. He looked at the pantry door with suspicion. So who had he shoved in the pantry? He had an awful feeling of dread about this.

Meanwhile, Russia ran back upstairs to get the 'dude kid' while France insinuated himself with the social worker.

"Bonjour mademoiselle," France oozed.

England flung open the pantry door while Scotland began telling him all about his furores into the wilds of Siberia which he said 'wasn't bad and not that cold really' and that he'd been 'thrown out of Siberia by some tough Russian Babushkas after drinking all their alcohol'. England wasn't listening. He wished his brother had stayed there. Particularly today.

"Oh my God!" England said when he saw who he'd shut in the pantry and quickly slammed the door shut again.

Scotland continued, "An' yer know Siberia didnae think I could do ice fishing but I showed him by using a fried Kit Kat as bait."

"Hamish… I need your advice."

"Aye yer do. I've never seen such crap in your shed."

"No Hamish. I've just locked the latest member of the royal family in my pantry."

"Queen Mary?"

"No! What century do you think you are in?"

"Arthur! We need you in here!" Came a shout from the lounge. England hurried off before Scotland could answer him.

"Thank you, my lovely friend for getting her for me," France whispered in England's ear.

"Since when have I procured women for you? Who are you? The Sultan of Brunei?" England hissed at him.

Russia hurried back down the stairs with a sleepy Charlemagne in his arms. "He has just woken up from his nap," Russia said to the Social Worker. "I am his main caregiver. I already have 144 million children."

"Ivan… Perhaps you could go into the kitchen and make the lady a cup of tea?" England said.

"I will!" Russia's eyes were shining. "She's real!" He said to England. England had no idea what that meant.

"Right so…" England began.

"Wait! Before Arthur opens his big fat mouth and plunges us all into it so that we lose the kid can I just say that I'm not giving up my visitation rights." Prussia said. He was still trying to yank the saucepan off Denmark's head. "A little help here, maybe?"

"Yes well erm very funny. Turkmenistan!" He yelled. He hoped the poor man had got rid of the yak. "That's just his nickname," he said to Ms Gopnick. "He's not really called that. It's erm…" He flailed around for a suitable name.

"Trevor," America offered up.

"Yes… Trevor."

The Social Worker took hold of Charlemagne from Russia and then plonked him on the floor (the child not Russia). "Can he crawl?" She asked England.

"Who erm … Trevor? Not usually, he usually walks." England said.

The woman looked at England as if he were an imbecile.

"Hell yeah he can crawl. He can speed along like a good un. We race him against the kid next door," Prussia said.

"We do?" England frowned. He still had no idea what they were talking about. Apart from the fact that he'd only seen beautifully calligraphy, complaints about the bins and smell and hints from behind curtains, he had no idea who his new neighbours were, or that they had a kid. And then the penny dropped. He'd just locked his new neighbour. New royal neighbour. In his pantry. Meghan Markle, the Duchess of Sussex was their new next door neighbour (along with Prince Harry but England thought he was an idiot) and he'd locked her in his pantry. He ran back into the kitchen to see the Duchess of Sussex drinking whisky with Scotland who was telling their royal visitor about the time he'd had a stint on BBC Scotland and offering her a job as a weather girl.

Russia, making the tea with a samovar which looked complicated to England, said to her, "We went to your wedding. I'm sorry England gave you that dead mouse."

"This is all very charming," she said (it wasn't), got up, glared at England, downed her whisky and left hurriedly.

England didn't blame her.

The door reopened and she said to England. "Can you possibly get your yak off my lawn? I don't really want to send you another letter."

"Are you married to Ed Sheeran?" Scotland asked her.

She ignored him and shut the door.

England put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. Could it get any worse? Yes it could.

"Honestly, I'm the kid's uncle!" America could be heard telling the social worker. "And I'm telling you that kid has my cleverness," he said.

England doubted there was such a word and he hoped that Charlemagne was cleverer than America.

He hurried back in to find the woman writing things down on her clipboard while Charlemagne played with his wooden alphabet blocks. England had only ever seen Charlemagne use them to hit Den with before but now it looked like he was trying to spell something.

"He's a clever kid," America said. "He can spell…"

"He's making BOX!" Prussia said, still trying to get Den's saucepan off his head. "Someone pass me some butter!" He shouted.

As Charlemagne placed BOX together and inserted an L in the middle America said, "He's making BOL!"

Charlemagne then reached for another L and then an O but before he could spell 'BOLLOX', England had picked him up.

"Yes, as you can see, he's quite advanced," England told the Social Worker, who was edging away from France, who was telling her his edited life story - which included shameless war stories about being an undercover spy. England nudged him.

Russia then came in with Turkmenistan, both of them trying to carry a tray of tea between them. Russia hissed at Turkmenistan, "It's my samovar!"

Turkmenistan hurriedly backed off and went back into the kitchen, came back in and informed England that Scotland had eaten all the bourbon creams.

There was a shocked silence. England was now Very Cross which was going on for Defcon 4 and he hurried into the kitchen, handing Charlie over to France.

"Ah he is my…"

"…grandson." America finished for him.

"I am not so old!" France spluttered.

"Why does Denmark still have a bucket on his head?" Russia asked.

"Forrest Strange!" Prussia said to Russia.

Russia frowned and wondered if this was a type of code.

"So how many words can he speak?" The social worker asked France.

"Who? Ivan? He is tres bon. His English is very good. Mine of course is better. Mine is fluent. I am fluent in lots of languages. Especially the language of l'amor!" France said still standing too close to the Social Worker, who promptly 'accidentally' bashed him with her clipboard.

"I am very strong!" Russia said in retaliation and to show this he pulled the bucket off Denmark's head.

"Wow thanks dude! You're the best!" Denmark said.

"Well his crawling seems very good," the Social Worker said.

"Yes, isn't it though?" Prussia said looking at Denmark.

Charlemagne was already heading off in the direction of the kitchen where he could hear 'Uncle Arthur' and 'Uncle Hamish' arguing about biscuits.

"Never mind about Matthias… I mean er Forrest or whatever he's calling himself now," France said. "How about we talk about me?"

"And you are?"

"Here we go…" Prussia said.

"Francis de Chevalier Bonaparte Bonnefoy," France said.

The woman began writing.

"De Chevalier is spelt…"

"Oh God…" Prussia said. "This is painful."

"I'm Ivan Braginski. I live here," Russia said and then he was struck dumb when the woman actually turned to him and began writing his name down.

Denmark, who was about to 'enter the fray' of chatting up the Social Worker, suddenly saw his reflection in the bucket, saw that his hair was flat as a pancake, and ran upstairs to get his 'magic' hair gel.

"Arthur Kirkland is married to my sister. So he is my brother in law," Russia continued, having finally got the courage to talk to a real 'human woman person'. "Do you like Coronation Street?"

"Do you know what? You eating my bourbon creams is the final straw!" England shouted at his brother. "Get out!"

Scotland ignored him. There was evidently a scuffle. Turkmenistan picked Charlemagne up lest he got trodden on, the child giggling like a maniac.

"Does he attend any nurseries, play groups, toddler groups?" The Social Worker asked Russia.

"Well we took him to Siberia," Russia told her slowly.

"What?"

"And the German Embassy," France said. "Although Ludwig kicked them out. I was not there. I was partying. Do you like to party?"

The woman did not look like she 'partied'.

This might change though as Denmark, his hair now re-spiked, pounced into the room as if he were a superhero on a mission. America was not happy about this.

"Hell! I can party!" Denmark announced.

"We took him on the tube once with the wolves." Russia added.

"Do you have any pets?" She asked. She was making notes on her clipboard and they did not look good.

"Six cats." America said. He felt as if he were being left out. He was the boy's uncle after all.

They had to raise their voices to drown out England and Scotland's argument about biscuits which had now moved onto shortbread.

"Five cats." Russia said.

"And a wolf," Prussia said.

"And a dragon," Denmark added.

"Jeff, Frank, Hammy, George, Lafayette and Nelson," America said. "I didn't pick the last two names."

"I disagree with this. Nelson was the first cat and then we got Boris, Yaroslav…" Russia was saying.

America ran upstairs and came down with one of the cats. "I'm sorry but does this look like a Yaroslav?" He asked the social worker.

"That's because that is Kiril," Russia pointed out.

"You can't call a cat Yaroslav, Braginski," Prussia said, avoiding using Russia's Nation name. "You just can't shout out the door 'Yaroslav here Yaroslav, dinner time!' It sounds daft. It should be called Frederick. In fact they all should be called Frederick. Including the kid."

"You're delusional," America said. He looked pleased with himself for using such a big word.

"Do any of you have jobs?" Ms Gopnik asked while a stream of cats rushed down the stairs to follow their brethren. They had all grown now - no longer kittens and now fully grown cats, they ruled the house - even the wolf ('Dave' as Denmark called him) kept away from them. Two now balanced on Russia's shoulders as he glowered at Prussia.

The word 'jobs' stopped everyone in their tracks.

"I had a job in an opticians but then there was a riot," America began to say.

"That wasn't anything to do avec moi," France said quickly.

Russia thought about it. "Was that the day that Napoleon was here?"

"Napoleon?" Ms Gopnick asked.

"Long story. Someone we know who cosplays," Prussia said.

"Cosplays?" Russia looked confused.

"And you? Do you work?" Ms Gopnick asked Russia.

"I'm a General in the Red Army," he said. He looked at her as if she were mad. Why else would he be wearing an army greatcoat?

In the kitchen the argument had now progressed to the time England had been in short trousers and Scotland had invaded or something. This also seemed to involve shortbread.

Turkmenistan came back into the lounge holding Charlemagne. "I don't think the child should hear about all that," he said.

Charlemagne seemed to disagree and as soon as he was put on the ground, headed back into the kitchen with two cats following him.

"Crazy kid," Denmark said.

"We had jobs!" Prussia suddenly announced. Much to everyone's surprise.

"We did! We had our own business!" Prussia said.

"Can I see your tax receipts?" The Social Worker asked.

"What?" Prussia asked and suddenly, because he was disturbed about the question of tax receipts, went into a diatribe in German.

This did not please Russia who threw himself across the room at him.

Someone, probably Turkmenistan who was the only one with common sense, yelled "Oh look the new Downton Abbey is on!"

Russia stopped mid-leap and turned his attention to the television. It was actually some gardening programme (of which the British television broadcasters were so fond of) and Russia sat down transfixed. "I expect the Dowager Countess will have something to say about those roses!" Russia said.

Prussia shook his head at this. "Me and Den have a handyman business."

"We're men and we're handy!" Den attested to this.

"You broke a lady's window!" France said. He showed the Social Worker their leaflet regarding 'widow cleaning'.

"Hmmm and you?" She asked France.

"Oui, I am available any time you know. Here is my card and my number," he said handing her a business card in a virulent pink adorned with roses. It said on it: 'Francis Bonnefoy, Love Therapist. Fully qualified. BA(DisHons) Sorbonne'. "I trained under Freud," he told her, standing far too close.

"You mean with Freud? Aren't you a little young for that?"

"Merci but it is true. Under." He specified the 'under' and awaited England dragging him backwards and yelling in his face about being a pervert. There was nothing. Just a slam of the door.

Hamish came in, rubbing his hands. "I told him to leave!"

"But it's his house!" America said.

Hamish ignored him, "So who are you?" He asked Ms Gopnick - as direct as he was.

"I'm the Social Worker."

"Oh aye. Have yer come to take the wee bairn away?" He asked.

"He's going nowhere!" Den said and then added. "Russia… I mean Ivan! Tell them!"

"I don't think this is Downton Abbey!" Russia said, staring at the screen. Assuming he was talking about the TV show he was watching and not what was going on in Arthur's living room.

"No! I'm going nowhere!" America said. "You can't take me away."

"They're on about the kid, not you being taken away," Prussia said to America. "Fool," he added.

"Oh well yeah.."

"And you were the one who worked in an opticians?" Ms Gopnick asked America, checking her clipboard.

"Right, I did," he said when someone sniggered.

"Aye well yer were no good on BBC Scotland were yer?" Scotland told him and plonked himself down next to Russia and promptly turned over the channel.

"Do you all live here?" Ms Gopnick tried again.

"I live with Arthur. They just rent. But I live here. With him." France said.

They all looked panicky at the idea of 'rent'.

"I see. That's fine. We're very open minded," Ms Gopnik said.

Arthur burst in suddenly. (He'd been sat seething in his shed.) "We don't bloody live together!"

"You so do!" Prussia replied.

"We bloody don't!"

"Mr Kirkland it's really fine. We're very open-minded about same sex partnerships," Ms Gopnick said. "It won't go against your guardianship of the child. So what provisions have you made for his education?" She asked.

England groaned and sat down in his chintz armchair. Unfortunately, Francis sat down on the arm of it and ruffled his hair lovingly. England gave him a 'dead arm'.

"I am teaching him siege tactics," Russia said. "It's very important."

"I'm teaching him Danish," Denmark said.

"That's not a real language though is it?" Scotland said and added, "I'm teaching him Scots and how to make pancakes."

"That's my brother and he shouldn't be here," England said.

"Ah yes. Hamish…" here the woman checked her clipboard. "McMad?"

"Aye that'll be me!" Hamish said. "I've been in Siberia for a while having a wee party with the wood nymphs and dryads and some ghosties. Did you know they had a Starbucks?" He added to Russia. "I was just telling the wee girlie" (he meant Meghan, Duchess of Sussex) "about my nether regions getting frostbite."

There was a long uncomfortable pause in the conversation.

"He's registered with Eton," England suddenly blurted out.

"Me?" Scotland looked up, utterly appalled.

"No, not you! The kid," England said.

The social worker looked England up and down paying particular attention to his worn cardigan from Marks and Spencers and the trousers that had seen better days and then the patched up hole in the ceiling and the very worn sofa. Which was covered in Nations.

She looked sceptical.

Then King Henry appeared beside Arthur. It was the first time England had been pleased to see a ghost.

"I can get him into Eton with all fees paid," King Henry said. "I was a benefactor," he explained.

"Where's the kid anyway?" someone rightly asked.

In fact Charlie was sat in the kitchen FaceTiming the United States Senate and babbling away.

"Oh there he is!" Denmark said.

"Is that the President? Why's he on that podium thingy?" Prussia asked.

"Oh yeah it was something to do with peaches, the Prez said," America said. "Dunno, wasn't really listening."

"You mean impeachment?" Russia asked him.

America shrugged.

"Bad man!" Charlemagne shouted at the screen before someone took it off him.

"I'm sure everything is fine," England said.

"Right, so I will return at a future date to check on those provisos. That you have a school registered and that you all have jobs." Ms Gopnik told them all.

Denmark held up a hand.

"What?"

"What's a proviso?" Denmark asked.

She ignored him and walked out of the door, pausing to look England up and down one last time, obviously trying to work out how this shambles of a man could possibly afford to send his child to Eton.

Author's Notes:

So who guessed the next door neighbours were Meghan Markle and Prince Harry?

Next chapter - Eton mess

And yes Charlemagne does manage to impeach the POTUS