by Paul Gait
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said, twisting her fingers nervously.
‘That’s my girl,’ Geoffery said, feeling pleased to be helping Kay, an unexpected bonus to his visit. ‘Now the other reason I’m here, and it sounds like I’ve arrived at the right time,’ ‘I plan to give your son a reason to get off his backside and prove himself.’
‘OK, but, what is it?’ she said, cautiously, concerned.
‘I’m giving him a physical challenge. There’s a big financial reward, if he completes it,’ Geoffery explained, taking the letter out of his coat pocket. ‘It’s not going to be easy, and you’ll probably have to get tough with him to ensure he trains for it.’
‘That’s not as simple as you make it sound,’ Kay said, knowingly; already apprehensive of the anticipated uphill battle, encouraging Tim to do anything, he didn’t want to do.
‘When Tim emerges from his sulk, please give him this,’ Geoffery said, handing Kay the sealed envelope. ‘Will you do that for me? Please.’
‘Yes of course,’ Kay said, taking the envelope. I’m sorry about your… your problem,’ she said sympathetically, looking into his eyes. ‘I wish there was something I could do.’
‘I’m afraid there is nothing. But thanks anyway. Now I’ve got my head around it, I can manage the dark thoughts. This project, doing something for my three Godsons, is helping take my mind off things,’ Geoffery informed her quietly.
‘I can imagine,’ said Kay, gazing sadly at her former lover.
‘Don’t worry about any money required for his training,’ he added. ‘I’ll see to that. If he accepts the challenge, I believe it will be good for both of you. Try and persuade him, Kay,’ Geoffery said, returning her gaze.
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Kay earnestly, wondering how she would persuade her lazy son into doing anything, other than playing games on the internet.
‘Right, I’ll be in touch to see how things shape up,’ Geoffery said, standing. ‘Later, we’ll agree the next steps, hopefully, literally,’ he said, giving Kay a gentle hug; which she returned.
Kay let Geoffery out through the front door, and accompanied him slowly to the waiting taxi.
As the taxi manoeuvred back into the traffic, she headed back to her front door and waved from the doorstep, unable to hold back her tears any longer.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Kay closed the front door, and leant against it heavily. It was as if she was trying to block the tidal wave of emotions, that Geoffery’s visit had rekindled, from reaching her.
She thought she had steeled herself for his visit. She was going to be distant, rational and not allowing him to get to her. Instead she had been transported back to the intimate relationships of their youth. She relived his touch, his caress, the gentle lovemaking. Her mind filled with so many wonderful memories. Her heart filled with sorrow thinking about what she had missed. The visit by the spectre of her past had sent her head reeling.
However, her trip down memory lane was rudely interrupted, as Tim returned noisily into the lounge, having heard Geoffery’s departure.
‘What did that stupid old bastard want?’ Tim demanded, belligerently.
‘Tim, I won’t have you using language like that, in this house,’ said Kay, testing out her new no-nonsense regime.
‘Well, what did he want?’ Tim persisted.
‘If you had stayed to listen, rather than skulking off, you’d have been part of the conversation,’ she said quietly.
‘So who is he?’ Tim demanded, ignoring her rebuke.
‘He was a close friend of mine, from years ago.’
‘So, what’s he doing coming round here now?’
‘He wanted to see you? He’s your Godfather.’
‘Godfather! What like, he’s in the Mob, the Mafia? He doesn’t look much like Al Capone to me.’
‘Don’t be daft. Of course he’s not.’
‘So why did he want to see me?’ Tim asked, curiously.
‘To find out how you’re getting on. Because he hasn’t seen you since you were a baby.’
‘Well, now he’s seen me, he can sling his hook.’ Tim said, picking up his game controller.
‘He’s, he’s been away for a long time, so he’s making contact with all his Godsons,’ Kay added.
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps he wants to make up for lost time.’
‘So, what’s he going to do now he’s back? Give me some back dated pocket money?’ Tim said cynically.
‘He wants to offer you a…’ Kay had difficulty vocalising Geoffery’s plans for Tim. ‘A challenge,’ she said, feeling uncomfortable.
‘A what? A challenge! What is he, some sort of game show host or something?’ Tim said in disbelief.
‘It’s all here, in this letter,’ she said, looking at the envelope, apprehensive of its contents.
‘Well, come on, give it to me then,’ he demanded, holding out his hand.
Kay handed him the envelope, and watched nervously as he immediately ripped it open.
‘He tells me there are financial inducements,’ she continued, watching her impatient son unfolding the paper, he’d removed from the envelope.
‘What, so he’ll give me money if I take on one of his challenges?’
‘Yes. That’s what he said.’
‘How much?’
‘I don’t know. Part of his estate, I suppose!’
‘What sort of estate? A country estate with a mansion and stuff?’
‘No. It means all his worldly possessions. He will bequeath to you in his will.’
‘What! Has he got to die first?’ Tim said, disappointedly. ‘That could be another thirty years.’
‘No. He’s terminally ill. Months, is all he’s got,’ she said sadly.
‘That’s alright then. Come on, you can guess how much it’s likely to be,’ he persisted excitedly.
‘He’s a multi-millionaire. I suppose it’s likely to be several millions,’ she guessed.
‘Millions! Wow, I’ll be rich,’ he said, already dreaming of spending his inheritance.
‘It would certainly pay off our debts,’ Kay said, joining him dreaming about spending his expected legacy.
‘Your debts. This is my money,’ he said selfishly.
‘Tim, I can’t believe you said that. They are debts I’ve accrued to help you,’ Kay said angrily. ‘After all I’ve done for you. You should be ashamed of yourself.’
‘Yaddy yah!’ he said, disrespectfully. ‘So what’s the challenge? What have I got to do?’
‘Just read the letter and you’ll find out,’ Kay said, exasperated at his procrastination.
Tim read the letter eagerly, as Kay looked on concerned.
Dear Tim,
I appreciate that you don’t know me or anything about me, but I am fully aware of the challenges you must have had to undergo throughout your life due to your physical problems. However, I believe you have a lot of potential and the possibilities of a wonderful life ahead of you, if only you seize the opportunity. I am therefore setting you a challenge which, I believe, will be the making of you. If you accept the challenge and successfully walk to the top of Snowdon, Scafell Pike AND Ben Nevis (in a manner similar to the three peaks challenge) you will become a major beneficiary from my will. If you fail to accept the challenge or fail the task; my will is written in such a way to exclude you from benefitting from my estate.
I hope you consider this, life changing opportunity, seriously.
Yours Faithfully
Geoffery Foster
(Godfather)
After reading it for a few moments, Tim shouted, ‘he must be bloody joking.’
‘Tim!’
‘He does know that I haven’t got legs, does he?’
‘He knows you prefer to use your wheelchair, yes,’ Kay said, calmly.
‘Well, the old git wants me to climb Snowdon, Scafell and Ben Nevis,’ Tim told a surprised Kay.
‘Let me have a look,’ she said, takin
g the letter.
‘Has he got a brain tumour? Doesn’t he realise, I can’t walk,’ whined Tim.
‘That’s not true is it? You could do it, if you really set your mind to it,’ she said, wondering if Geoffery really understood what he was asking Tim to undertake, after all.
‘Come on, you know I can’t even walk in the garden. You got my legs cut off, remember?’ said Tim evilly, playing the trump card he often used to get his own way.
Although he had capitalised on her self confessed guilty conscience many times before; this dreadful accusation still cut through Kay’s heart like a knife.
‘That’s not fair. It was the meningitis, the blood poisoning, Not me,’ Kay replied anxiously, trying to recall Geoffery’s advice.
‘Yeah, but as you always tell me, if you’d have spotted it earlier, I’d still have my legs,’ said Tim, reminding her of her own mantra of blame.
‘No, that’s not right. It was the disease… unpredictable,’ Kay countered, pleased and surprised by her new defensive stance.
‘If you’d got me to the hospital sooner,’ Tim pursued, harshly.
‘It wouldn’t have made any difference,’ Kay parried, now feeling clear about her role in his tragic illness.
‘You messed my life up. It was Child cruelty,’ Tim ranted, surprised that she had not already capitulated to his indictment.
‘I did everything I could and have done so all your life,’ she said, firmly.
‘So you should. You did this to me, Tim said, slapping his shortened thigh. ‘The least you could do, is to make it up to me for making my life miserable.’
‘No son. You make your, our, life miserable; by continuing to blame me for your issues; instead of living with your…problem.’
‘Disability. Say it! I’m a cripple because of you,’ he ranted, angrily.
Tim turned his wheelchair around and stormed out of the room.
Kay started to go after him, but stopped herself. Perhaps, Geoffery was right. She had to be cruel to be kind. Her mind was in a whirl. Tim’s angry response to the letter. Images of her youth, dancing before her – memories of their indiscretion at her wedding reception, over thirty seven years ago, brought back the paternity issue.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Wednesday October 1st – Sunset count 31
The day after Andy’s trip to London, and Geoffery’s simultaneous visit to see Kay, the pair met in Geoffery’s room to update each other on their respective trips.
‘I can’t see any way of helping James Charles until he admits that he has a problem,’ Andy counselled. ‘When he recognises he is an alcoholic, then we can help him to kick the booze. Otherwise we’ll get nowhere with him.’
‘Yes, I understand what you’re saying,’ Geoffery agreed. ‘But we’ll just have to be persistent. I suppose the best thing to do is to keep in touch and work on him slowly. Let’s give him a call now.’
‘It isn’t going to be easy,’ Andy said, giving Geoffery the number. ‘I called the mobile earlier and got no reply, although it worked OK yesterday.’
‘Let’s give it another try,’ he said, punching the number into his own phone. After several unsuccessful attempts, somebody eventually answered it.
‘James?’
‘Who you want?’ An eastern European voice replied.
‘James Charles,’ Geoffery said, taken aback by the response.
‘You got wrong number. Nobody here with that name.’
‘Sorry, I’ll try again.’
Geoffery dialled again.
‘Hello James?’
‘No.’
‘Did I speak to you a moment ago?’
‘Yes, you got wrong number.’
‘We have spoken to him on this number before.’
‘Oh, you want to speak to the tramp?’
‘James, Lord Jim, yes.’
‘He sold me phone for couple quid. He need drink money. Said he don’t need phone.’
‘Damn the man,’ said Geoffery hanging up. ‘He’s sold the phone!’
‘So what are we going to do now then?’ Andy asked, already guessing the answer.
‘It’ll need another trip to London, I’m afraid. At least this time you know where to find him.’
‘Let’s leave it a couple of days,’ Andy said, not relishing another trip. ‘Perhaps he’ll have had a change of mind by then.’
Reluctantly Geoffery agreed. ‘But only a couple of days,’ he emphasised.
Geoffery updated Andy about his visit to see the self centred Tim, as outside a car could be heard speeding up the drive. The driver was obviously ignoring the 10mph speed signs, and hit the first speed bump, catching the exhaust, with a clatter, on landing.
‘If they don’t slow down, they’ll ruin their suspension as well,’ said Andy, interrupting the update.
Almost instantaneously they heard the sound of the car bouncing heavily over the second speed bump, and the metallic scraping as exhaust system again met tarmac.
‘That’ll be costly,’ observed Geoffery. ‘Somebody’s obviously in a hurry.’
‘Could be a paramedic on a call, I suppose,’ said Andy. ‘Although, the hospice doesn’t like or encourage people dashing around at all.’
As Geoffery continued telling Andy about the reception he had got from Kay and Tim, the car could be heard scraping its way up the drive, finally coming to a squealing halt.
Shortly after, the telephone in Geoffery’s room rang. Andy answered it.
Geoffery could overhear the metallic voice of the receptionist as Andy listened intently.
‘No, I don’t believe he is expecting anyone. Just a second, I’ll ask him.’
‘Are you expecting anyone?’ Andy asked Geoffery.
‘No,’ replied Geoffery, curious about his unexpected visitor.
‘There’s a woman at reception, says she’s got an urgent meeting with you.’
‘No, I haven’t arranged anything, but tell them to send her down.’
‘OK, please show her down here,’ relayed Andy.
Shortly after, there was a knock on the door, which immediately burst open. A middle aged woman exploded into the room, looking flushed and anxious.
‘Mr Foster, Mr Geoffery Foster?’ she asked, breathing heavily.
‘Yes, this is Mr Foster’s room,’ said Andy, standing and addressing the woman.
‘Geoffery, I came as soon as I received your letter,’ said the woman, walking towards Geoffery and ignoring Andy. ‘How are you, you poor dear?’ she said, dramatically.
Geoffery looked at Andy, puzzled.
‘I’m sorry. Who did you say you are?’ asked Andy, blocking her way.
The woman side stepped him and dashed to Geoffery’s bedside.
‘Geoffery, I’m sorry to hear of your…your problem,’ she said, earnestly.
‘I’m sorry, but Mr Foster isn’t up to visitors at the moment,’ said Andy, gauging the tension she was already creating for Geoffery.
‘I got your letter, and came as soon as I could,’ she continued urgently.
‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are,’ said Geoffery, puzzled.
‘You sent my husband a letter,’ she replied, grabbing his hand sympathetically.
‘Letter?’ Geoffery said, bemused, pulling his hand away. He racked his brain, desperately trying to think what and to whom he had written, which created this manic visitation. Although her face was vaguely familiar, he couldn’t place it.
‘Here it is,’ she said, taking a crumpled piece of paper out of her handbag.
‘Do you want me to have a look?’ Andy said to Geoffery.
‘Is it the letter I sent to my nephew, Rupert?’ Geoffery said suddenly recalling a possible explanation.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Sue. ‘Unfortunately Rupert couldn’t come. He works in Bristol and so I’ve come instead. I’m Sue, Sue Williams - Screen. Rupert’s wife,’ she said, clearly upset at the reception she’d received.
‘Oh, now I see,’ said
Geoffery. ‘It’s so kind of you to come. But it’s Rupert I need to see.’
‘Well, when I read you were in a hospice, of course I expected the worst, so I’ve dropped everything and dashed here,’ she said, looking to get some sympathetic credit for her urgent handling of the situation.
‘But the letter was addressed to your husband,’ said Andy, reading it.
Dear Rupert,
This letter will probably come as a great surprise to you, as we have not seen or communicated with each other for many years. However, I would like to redress this omission and meet up with you.
Currently my health isn’t too good and I am now resident in the Dorothy and Tom Hospice at Hampton Leck, Near Cheltenham, having recently left my former home in Monaco. Hence, I would like to see you as soon as possible. I can assure you that it will be to your financial benefit to meet me.
Yours Sincerely
Uncle Geoffery (Foster)
‘Oh, I always open his mail,’ she said. ‘He has no secrets from me.’
‘Not according to my information,’ thought Geoffery. ‘Looks like you’re in for a big shock sooner or later.’
‘Well, that’s very kind of you to come, Sue. But it’s your husband I need to see in person,’ explained Geoffery.
‘I can relay any message,’ she said insistently.
‘When do you think he will be able to meet me?’ asked Geoffery, trying to calm himself from the tide of panic that she had created.
‘Well, that’s difficult to say, because he’s working on a very urgent job down in Bristol,’ she said insistently, not willing to allow her role in the drama to be downgraded, to being purely a messenger.
‘But will he be back in a day or two?’ interjected Andy, annoyed at being ignored.
‘Well yes, but he…I’m not sure he’ll be able to…he’s working on an important computer project for Lemon, the mobile phone company, and doesn’t come home until late. Then he’s off again early in the morning,’ she said evasively.
The surveillance photos had shown a different reason for his late homecoming. The work he was doing was more about relationship building than computer projects. Rupert was having an affair. Having now met the overpowering Sue, he could understand why Rupert had strayed. ‘He would hate to be anywhere near the explosion, when she found out about the clandestine love affair,’ thought Geoffery.