John turned and saw the chubby boy sitting in his high chair, he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips, the child had paint everywhere but on the paper in front of him and was himself multi coloured “What an adorable child.” He breathed “May I?” he asked as he reached for the boy.
“Just let me clean him up or he’ll get you covered.” Helen jumped closer with a cloth.
“It’s no bother.” John answered and hauled him from the chair, setting him on the floor and promptly coming down to his level and happily babbling away while he took the cloth from Helen and cleaned away the paint.
Helen stood back and watched her son interact with this relative stranger, amazed at the man’s reaction to her son. She glanced up at Paul who was busying himself making tea and sandwiches for them all, she had noticed a similar reaction to Luke in the boy who stood beside her and wondered if it was a family trait as Paul had displayed natural, nurturing behaviour towards Luke from their very first meeting.
Placing the sandwiches on the table, Paul turned back for the mugs of tea and noticed Helen watching his Uncle, an indulgent smile playing on her lips.
“We’re Spanish, it’s inbred that we love children.” He said as he grabbed the mugs, “John was just like that with me.”
“What do you mean was?” John asked as he clambered into his chair and heaved the robust youngster onto his lap “I still bounce you on my knee and read you bedtime stories.” He laughed “The house is looking nice.” He addressed his nephew.
“Paul has been fantastic.” Helen gushed “I couldn’t ask for a better house guest. I’ll be sorry to see him leave.”
“I’m not leaving.” Paul said, his mouth set in a determined line.
“If I didn’t know better I’d say that you were the one he was having the affair with.” John smiled at her but he was watching Paul from the corner of his eye “You are after all, more to his taste as far as I’m aware, my nephew prefers blondes and make no mistake Paul,” he turned his attention fully on him “You are going home today.”
The silence was uncomfortable while they waited for their drinks, neither woman making the effort to speak but regarding each other closely, sizing up the enemy.
“I understand why you are angry.” Carmen broke the ice.
“I wonder if you do.” Monica replied.
“I’ve taken your son from you.”
“You’ve done more than that. I know Paul wasn’t sweet and innocent before he met you but he had never lied to me or kept secrets until he got involved with you, my son has become distant from me and that’s all because of you. What were you thinking when you agreed to be with him?”
“I suppose I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was highly flattered, Paul is a very attractive young man, he could and did pick up absolutely anyone he wanted and he chose me. I shouldn’t have let it continue, I know that. He is a very hard habit to break.” Carmen tried to explain
“You should have sent him home when he turned up here. I was worried sick but you won’t understand that feeling until God forbid, something happens to your child, I don’t expect you to understand the relationship between a mother and her son yet, perhaps if you have a boy you will in time fully comprehend what it is that you have put me and my son through. I don’t like you, I suspect I never will, as far as I’m concerned, you molested my child and now you hold him to you with the child you carry. Paul could go far, he’s intelligent and determined and level headed for the most part, I want my son back to the focused boy he was before he met you, I want him home and taking care of his business. How much can I offer you to make you go away and disappear from his life?” Monica surprised herself with her last question but she knew then that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for the boy.
Carmen, momentarily stunned by Monica’s last comment, took her time to mull over what the other woman had said before letting rip, “How dare you try to buy me off?” she seethed “I tried to break it off with Paul on several occasions, I didn’t even tell him I was pregnant, he worked that out for himself. Nothing is going to keep me from being with him; the age gap makes no difference to me what so ever. He may be your son but he is my lover and I will not give him up on the whim of an over protective mother. Whatever problems you and Paul have are for you to sort out, my main concerns are having him in my life and having a father for my child, he has no problem with supporting me, he hasn’t shied away from any of his responsibilities. I would have thought any Mother would be proud of that, whatever the circumstances.”
“Do you honestly think Paul will remain faithful to you?” Monica questioned “Whether or not what he actually feels for you is love, he is after all, a sixteen year old boy, his groin rules his head and heart right now and when he comes to his senses he’ll drop you like a brick. He has already made a name for himself amongst the girls and young women who travel in the same circles as him, one of them will catch him and as soon as that happens, he will turn his back on you and walk away then it will be me who has to make sure that you and my grandchild are cared for as I guarantee he will begin to question it’s parentage once he is involved with someone new.”
“That simply won’t happen, Paul may be many things but he is well aware of his responsibilities to this child whatever happens between us. If it kills me, I will make sure he is a good father to this baby.”
“At last, something we agree on.” Monica conceded, she firmly believed in making her son do the right thing.
At his Uncle’s insistence, Paul packed his things and waited for his Mother to return, his sullen mood returned as he slumped on the sofa with Luke sprawled across his lap having finally succumbed to his afternoon nap.
“How is he?” Monica asked her brother after greeting Helen and thanking her for putting up her son.
“Brooding.” John replied “Are sure this is the right thing to do?”
“No.” Monica answered “I want him home but whether or not it’s the right thing to do for any of us is another matter, he seems to excel in causing trouble when he is unhappy and the last thing I need is him facing off with Michael.”
“Then leave him here, he’s not doing any harm, if anything, he’s doing a stellar job of taking care of these two ladies and the boy.”
“So it would seem but he has a business to run and there is only so long those men will organise themselves, they are fine with the contracted jobs but the day to day maintenance and gardening is suffering, Paul needs to come home.” Her resolve hardened.
“Do you want me to wake him?”
“Yes, I’ll wait in the car.”
Paul didn’t speak to either of them during the long journey home, not even when they stopped for fuel and something to eat. He sat up straighter in the back seat as they pulled up outside John’s apartment building.
“Keep your head down mate.” John told him “If it all kicks off Mon, he can come and stay with me.”
Monica thanked her brother and drove off, glancing in the rear view mirror she noted Paul returning her gaze levelly and her heart dropped, he was plotting, she just knew it, Paul was far easier to deal with when he was ranting, his brooding silence and seeming calm acceptance of things was a sure sign of trouble.
“You should unpack, then perhaps you should let your staff know you are home” Monica told him as they entered the kitchen, he didn’t reply, he simply turned his back on her and headed for the stairs “Once you’ve done that, we should talk.” She raised her voice so that he would hear her.
“I have nothing to say to you.” He answered from the foot of the stairs.
“That’s fine.” Monica came into the hall “I have plenty I want to say to you.”
“You can say what you like; I’m done listening to you.” He shot back.
“We’ll see, I think you will find my will is far stronger than yours.”
“Huh, whatever.” He took the stairs two at a time and on reaching the top, turned towards his room, the door was open and he stood for a while on the th
reshold, blood seething through his veins, anger pulsing in his head. He hefted his bag and with a roar of frustration, threw it across the room, it hit the wall above his bed, cracking the paint before landing on his pillows, the zip of the bag bursting open and spilling the contents.
Hearing the bang, Monica rushed up the stairs to find her son gathering up his clothes by the armful, the broken bag now discarded in the corner of the room where he had kicked it, the crack in the paint and dent in the wall more than evident.
“You aren’t going to make this easy are you?” she asked.
“Nope.” He eased by her and dumped most of his clothing in the dirty linen bin inside the bathroom door. “I want my phone back.”
“Sorry. No.”
“Fine, I’ll just go and buy another one.”
“Look Paul, sit down and talk to me, then I will give you back your phone.” She cajoled, sitting on his bed.
“Ok, but this time, I have some conditions of my own, I’m open to compromise but if you want me to stay here, there will be certain things I want to be able to do.”
Keeping her voice calm and level, Monica told him of all her fears and worries for him, often harking back to his childhood and touching on his time at boarding school which had him absent mindedly touching the scars on his right arm, that simple movement flooding her with guilt.
By the end of the conversation, she had him in tears, huge racking sobs shook his body as he responded to her gentle questioning with a long overdue outpouring of emotion from the loving, sensitive boy she knew him to be. No-one would ever know the content of their conversation but it would serve to cement the relationship between Mother and son making an unbreakable bond between them.
Paul threw himself back into the day to day running of his business and was welcomed warmly by his staff when he arrived on site on Monday morning, each and every one of them stopping to watch him saunter towards them, breaking into a chorus of “Why was he born so beautiful?” As he got closer making the serious young face break out into a smile followed by his contagious laugh.
“Cut it out guys,” he laughed as he joined them “It’s good to be back.” He finished amongst massive amounts of back slapping.
As Monica had returned his phone, he was able to speak to Carmen several times every day and was doing just that when he returned home that evening and began going through the ritual of stripping off his dirty clothes in the utility room, bidding her goodbye and hanging up as he hurried through the kitchen and into the hall which is when he heard Michael bellow and Monica’s placating reply.
Indecision froze him to the spot, he wondered if he should knock on the study door as the argument was invariably about him or if he should simply stay out of the way until summoned. The door handle to the study moved making him jump, he decided to wait and quickly bolted up the stairs and into the shower.
After showering and putting on clean clothes, he crept to the top of the stairs; the argument was still in full swing so he returned to his room. He stood for a while looking at the crack in the wall above his bed and thought perhaps he should do something about it. Moving silently on bare feet, he made it, unnoticed to the garage and gathered the tools he would need, noticing for the first time since arriving home that there was nothing cooking in the kitchen signifying that the row had indeed been going on for quite some time as Monica would never leave starting the dinner this late.
Tessa found him in his room, music playing quietly while he worked, humming along with the song, his bed pushed into the middle of the room so that he could reach and repair the wall.
“What did you do now?” She asked, her hip pressed to his chest of drawers.
Turning from the wall, he replied “Nothing as far as I’m aware although I guess every breath I take is a crime in Dad’s eyes.” He turned back to his work.
“Come on Paul, they wouldn’t be arguing if it wasn’t for you.” She persisted.
“Agreed,” he answered over his shoulder “They were at it when I got home, I honestly don’t know why; I just thought it would be a good idea for me to stay out of the way.”
“Hmm, sounds reasonable. I’m going out, see you later.”
Within moments of Tessa leaving, Monica and Matt appeared in the room.
“I’m starving Mum, what’s for dinner?” Matt asked as he threw himself on his bed.
“We’re getting take away, my discussion with your father took longer than expected.” She replied.
“That doesn’t sound good, what did you do now?” He threw his pillow at Paul.
“Why does everything have to be my fault?” Paul asked.
“We were discussing you but there was nothing wrong darling, we were just talking,” Monica stepped in scowling at Matt and smiling at Paul “Do you think you could spare us a few moments?” she asked him.
Paul glanced back at the wall; he had nearly finished filling the crack “Can I just finish this? It’ll take a couple of minutes max.”
“Alright, we will wait for you in the study.” She shot him another reassuring smile before she left.
“You’re in the shit.” Matt stated.
“I don’t know, she didn’t seem too pissed off.” Paul shrugged “Not that it matters, I seem to be in the shit on a permanent basis right now, I may as well get used to it.”
Paul was subjected to an intimidating question and answer session by Michael, not once did he meet his father’s eyes and was only slightly comforted by Monica’s hand resting on his shoulder.
Chapter Sixteen
He was informed in no uncertain terms of the type of behaviour expected of him and in return for that behaviour he would be allowed to socialise with his friends and granted all the freedom he had before his scandalous relationship. It had been decided and wasn’t open for negotiation, that he would join Michael and his siblings for two days each week in the Jensen office to start learning the business from the ground up. Although he didn’t formally acknowledge the boy as a true Jensen, Michael did recognise that he had a quick mind and could prove useful around the office.
Pauls protests were stilled by a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and he resigned himself to working for his father every Thursday and Friday starting the following week therefore allowing him the time needed to get his own business in order and arrange the work schedules of his staff for his days in the office, it meant he would be working a six day week, only having Sunday to himself.
Three weeks into his new schedule and enduring yet another day at the office, Paul looked up from the stack of files he was set to destroy when his Grandfather greeted him.
“Hi Grandpa,” he smiled at the older man and stood to shake his hand/
“I heard rumours that you were here, I just had to come and see for myself if they were true.” Charles greeted his grandson “How are you getting on?”
“I hate it.” Paul stated “But I have been promoted to destroying files instead of correlating them so I guess I should be thankful for small mercies.”
Charles laughed “Tow the line boy and you’ll be out of here quicker than you can blink.”
“Here’s hoping.” Paul pushed his hair out of his eyes “Honestly though, I don’t mind being here, it makes a change from gardening in the freezing cold but it would be nice to have something to do that would get my mind working, a trained monkey could do this.”
“I’ll have words. Don’t you own a suit?” Charles asked, he had instigated a strict dress code at Jensen Incorporated and Paul’s faded black jeans and grey t-shirt was a total debasement of that code.
“I do, it doesn’t fit me anymore, it would seem that doing physical work has filled me out a bit and my shirts and jackets don’t fit across my chest.” He shrugged “Besides, all the time I’m doing this kind of work is it really necessary to me to wear a suit?”
“Rules are rules boy and while I am aware of your fondness for breaking them, this is one that you will adhere to.” Charles tried his best to frown.
“Ok, I’ll see if I can sort it.” Paul turned back to his work.
Michael hated it when his father arrived at the office unannounced, the man was supposed to be retired. He soon got wind of his arrival as his staff began fluttering around the office in a high state of agitation as they passed the knowledge of Charles’ presence from one section of the office to another. Closing the open files on his desk so that Charles wouldn’t be able to casually peruse his work, Michael sat back in the large leather chair that his father had once occupied and awaited his arrival.
Glancing quickly around his former office, Charles tutted in disapproval at the box files piled in the corners before greeting his son, noting with a little satisfaction the irked expression on the face that was a younger version of his own.
“Father, this is a surprise.” Michael’s lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“So I gather given the state of your office.” Charles replied, he helped himself to a coffee from Michael’s filter machine, an improvement that he did approve of before seating himself in the client chair “I do hope you don’t bring clients in here.”
“No Father, I conduct all of my meetings in the board room, I prefer to keep my office private.” Michael answered tersely “Is there any particular reason for your visit?”
“Not really, Mother and I are in town to see a show so I thought I’d drop by while she is cleaning out Harrods. How is business?”
Within moments Michael found himself justifying some of the decisions he had made over the last couple of months, each and every one of which Charles questioned and picked holes in. Inevitably, the conversation turned to Paul as Michael knew it would.
“Do you think Paul’s attire is entirely suited to the office environment?” Charles questioned.
“As he is doing menial work I see no reason why he shouldn’t dress as he pleases.” Michael replied.
“Ah yes, about that, you wouldn’t dream of making Tessa or Matthew do the kind of work you have set Paul so why on earth is he scrabbling around on his hands and knees destroying files?”
Prodigal Son (Jensen Family #1) Page 25