Chapter Text
During his summer break, Miles Sharma-Bridgerton, age seven, found a beehive.
It was the saddest of days that this event occurred. Miles was driving his car about the garden, an extremely cool electric vehicle in a sleek black colour that befitted Miles’s despair. His eyes red-rimmed, his cheeks tear-stained. Snot bubbles were under his nostrils and he didn’t even bother to wipe them off, he was so upset. Such was the devastation of the utter tragedy in Miles’s young life.
His parents, his own Amma and Dad, had cruelly refused to let him come along with Edmund to his camp, and no amount of Miles’s pleading, puppy dog eyes, dimples or tantrums could make them budge.
And then, just as Miles was in the midst of his existential unravelling, finding himself the most lonesome and pitiful boy in all of England, he saw it. Up there, partially shaded by the ivy, holding onto the brickwork of the garden wall with such might, was the biggest (the first) beehive Miles had ever seen in his life. It was a glorious sight, a real- life beehive. It looked exactly like the ones he had seen in Winnie the Pooh.
Seeing no bees buzzing about it, the smart boy quickly deduced that it must be because the bees were sleeping. They must have been so tired, he thought, after such a long day pollinating all the flowers in Miles’s big garden. Quietly, he took note of the spot and drove his car back to the house.
Miles does not disclose his discovery to his parents. He is still angry at them for not allowing him to camp. And he does not tell Edmund, the traitor. For days now he has been bragging about all the cool things one will get to do at camp, mercilessly rubbing it in Miles’s face.
Well, now Miles has something cool of his own that they have no part of. That will show them.
He does tell his sister, Small Charlie, or Lottie, who is two years old, yet able to talk and the best. Miles knows he has her support.
And on the day his parents take Edmund to camp and leave Miles in the care of Uncle Gregory, he tells his cousin/co-conspirator/nemesis, Charles ‘Seong Ho’/Big Charlie Baek-Bridgerton, six years old, who has been invited over to keep Miles’s company.
After three years, despite their bond, the rivalry between Miles and Big Charlie is still going strong. What the original cause of their contention was, Miles has frankly forgotten. However, Miles firmly believes that a man, even a small and extremely cute man like himself, must have principles, and considering Charlie his nemesis just happens to be one of these principles.
Besides, there are still plenty of other efficient fuels for disagreement between children. For example, the dislike Charlie has for Miles’s advanced age and currently superior height, speed and strength. Meanwhile, Miles is no less perturbed by the fact that his own baby sister is obsessed with Charlie. Every time he comes over, Lottie clings to him, as the younger boy draws better and more often than Miles does, and knows many, many stories. The little girl, arrested in attention, momentarily forgets who Miles even is.
Naturally, Miles, being older and wiser, does not get jealous over this at all (he absolutely does). And if he were to throw a fit and pick a fight with Charlie again after Lottie ignored him, it would be for a completely different and perfectly mature reason.
At least Miles can console himself by actually having a sister. Charlie’s own disappointing sister-deficiency has been a source of his turmoil. With ‘The Baby’ Alex, and it looks to be yet another boy on the way, Uncle Benedict’s kids will be the only ones without a sister.
‘The baby hasn’t come yet.’ Miles tried to console Charlie when he first heard the news the month before. ‘Right now it’s just rumours, you know.’
‘No.’ Charlie pouted and shook his head sadly. ‘Will is definitely a boy. The doctor used a machine to look inside my Eomma’s belly and said she saw a willy.’
Miles pondered this for a minute. Then he remembered something.
‘Maybe it’s a case of mistaken identity! There’s a kid at my school, and everyone thought it was a boy. But then it turns out she has been a girl all along, and the doctor made a mistake because she has a willy. Maybe Will would turn out to be one of those girls who have willies!’ He patted Charlie’s shoulder in a sagely, older-brotherly manner. ‘Don’t give up. You might still have a sister.’
Back to today, being so wise and mature, seven-year-old Miles has learned to put aside their differences and seek out Charlie’s counsel for momentous issues, such as The Case of The Great Kitchen Cake, or on this day, The Matter of The Beehive. Charlie’s Eomma and Miles’s future wife, Auntie Sophie, is a scientist. And Charlie is the son of a scientist, which to Miles, is basically the same thing.
‘What do you think?’ Miles asks. They are both watching the hive in his cool car from a safe distance away, not wanting to alert the bees. Their conversation is carried in hushed tones.
‘That is the biggest beehive I have ever seen.’ Charlie, who has only seen one beehive when he was two and therefore cannot recall the experience, agrees enthusiastically. ‘It looks exactly like the ones from Winnie the Pooh.’
‘That’s what I thought too!’ Miles is overjoyed. ‘There must be at least a ton, no, two tons of honey in there.’
‘Yeah.’ Charlie says. ‘It looks like so much beeswax too.’
‘Beeswax?’
‘I saw a documentary where they make beeswax candles. Loads and loads of candles. It’s very cool.’ The younger boy explains. ‘You can make like, a thousand out of a hive that size.’
Miles considers this information. He has been to Sainsbury’s with his parents. One scented candle, the cheapest kind, costs 5 pounds. The more expensive ones can cost up to 20 pounds each. Miles has no reason not to believe that the beeswax made in his garden is of the highest, most expensive quality. One candle is 20 pounds, a thousand candles, plus honey, which is 10 pounds a jar,...
That is… a lot.
An idea, a brilliant, magnificent, genius idea, bursts forth in Miles’s head, fully formed. He elbows Charlie, his eyes shining on the oblivious hive, smiling machiavellistically.
‘So, how do you get it down?’