"What employment was he offered?" asked Charles.
James cleared his throat. "At that time," he replied, "there was a vacancy for a butler." he paused and looked down.
It took a moment for the penny to drop.
"James...you are Lord Alfred's brother?"
James nodded, slowly. "And Matthew is my son. At least, he was, for a short while. But can you even begin to imagine how difficult it was for me to see my son growing up in a way that was, shall we say, less than satisfactory? As time went on, with his conduct becoming steadily worse, both my wife and I began to feel so guilty that after having had such a wonderful family of our own we had now provided my brother with such a disappointing son. It seemed to hit Margaret - my wife - especially hard. And, although I can't be sure, I can't help feeling that Matthew's going off the rails was the initial cause of the start of her deterioration."
"She became unwell?"
"In a manner of speaking. What do you think? You did meet her, after all."
So here was the second thunderbolt.
"Meg?"
James nodded again, sadly. A tear slipped from the corner of one eye and began to run to down his cheek.
"As her condition worsened I felt so powerless to help. So she was moved to the lodge. I wanted to do whatever I could; I would have done anything, but there was nothing that could be done. In a way, I felt as though I was abandoning her, but - oh, Mr Seymour - it was because I loved her so much that I could not bear to watch as she gradually ceased to be the lovely, caring person she had been before. I still visit her occasionally, when I think I may be strong enough to keep from breaking down in front of her. But then..." the tears were flowing more freely now as he fought to maintain his composure, "...but then it occurs to me that if I am the sort of man who would abandon his wife like that..." his voice cracked a little. "...then maybe it's not so surprising that Matthew, my son, would turn out to be such a bad sort."
Charles reached out and placed his hand on the old man's shoulder and offered him a tissue. He waited quietly and respectfully as James wiped away his tears.
"Thank you for telling me all this, James. I very much appreciate it."
An appreciable silence ensued, broken only by some occasional birdsong or the buzzing of a passing winged insect.
Eventually, James spoke again.
"Shortly before Alfred passed away," he said, "he gave me something to pass to you - at a time of my choosing which I considered to be a 'suitable moment'. I think that perhaps that time is now."
He reached inside his jacket and produced an envelope, which he handed to Charles.
"What is it?"
"I have only a vague idea. May I be excused for a while, sir? I will be back presently."
"Yes, of course. Please take as much time as you need."
"Thank you, sir."
James disappeared back into the house and Charles was left alone. He looked down at the envelope in his hand and took a deep breath. There had been enough shocks for one day and he didn't especially want another. What would he find inside?
A little nervously, he opened the envelope and removed the folded paper. There were several sheets, all bearing Lord Alfred's distinctive coat of arms and his unique handwriting, and at a glance he could see that this was quite a long letter. But, as he unfolded and straightened it the opening words hit him like a kick from a mule:
My dear son, Charles,
In an instant, he felt as though all his strength left him and the letter fell back onto his lap. It can't be, he thought. Surely it can't be. After some considerable time, with a rapid heartbeat and trembling fingers he lifted the letter and began to read again.
My dear son, Charles,
Firstly let me assure you that, no matter how fanciful this may seem, you are indeed my son - although I realise that this news will come as a shock to you. Your mother was my first wife. We underwent a rather hostile divorce when you were still a babe in arms and I was denied all access to you; and I know that throughout the time when you were growing up she would not even speak to you about me. I felt my heart would break, but I resolved to follow your development as closely as I could.
Charles' eyes were so full of tears that he could hardly focus, but he persevered.
So, when you took part in your school plays I was there, sitting at the back. I also used to watch your sports days from the vantage point up on the hill - you remember the one? You used to so much enjoy climbing it. Later, although your mother was reluctant at first, she eventually allowed me to pay your fees for you to study law. I was so proud of you when you excelled at your studies and passed your exams with such high marks. And, when you graduated, I managed to watch from a distance as you had your photograph taken in your smart scholarly robes, but I had to always make a point of slipping away early from such occasions before anyone recognised me.
Before I married Caroline, my second wife, she confided in me that she was not able to have children. Then and there we decided that we would adopt. Our first son, William, was the apple of our eye. When he had his motorcycle accident it almost tore us apart but we persevered and set all our hopes in our second boy, Matthew. By now, you will know that his biological parents were James and Margaret. Well, remembering our little experience down in the crypt, you now know at first-hand what manner of man he became. But try to imagine, if you can, how this affected not only myself and Caroline, but also James and Margaret as well. It was a trial which seemed to become more and more difficult to endure with every passing day. And, once he left home, I never saw him - unless he needed money.
Once you became a practising solicitor I was so pleased that you elected to stay in the vicinity and I took every opportunity I could to engage your services. True, you were expensive (you thought I didn't realise that?) but I was so pleased to see how efficiently and methodically you undertook your work. As my Last Will and Testament underwent its numerous revisions I began to have serious doubts about wanting to leave anything at all to Matthew; I knew he would squander whatever I gave him. But you were a different proposition altogether. And yet...don't ask me how, I still cared deeply about Matthew and just could not find it within myself to cut him out of my will altogether. I can still see him as that charming little boy from all those years ago. Eventually though, I hit upon the idea of the 'cryptic lines' which, as it turned out, provided what I consider to be a very satisfactory outcome, having given all concerned a fair crack of the whip.
I was there that day, and I heard when you expressed surprise and asked James why I had included you in my Will. Well, my dear Charles, now you know: it was not a contest between son and solicitor, but between two sons. So I salute you, the eventual winner. I'm not going to ask you to use the money wisely, because from the depths of my heart I know there is no need. It is in safe hands.
Just one other thing, if I may. I was sorry to learn that you had been left high and dry by your fiancé, but please don't despair; wounds such as these will be healed by the passage of time and, somehow, I don't think it will be too long before you find love again.
And, finally, for all those years when I could not be there for you, I ask your forgiveness. I deeply regret all those things we did not have the opportunity to talk about, all the places I was not able to take you and all the time that we might otherwise have spent together. Yet, as much as I was able, I was there, looking out for you and feeling so very proud to know, even privately, that you were my son. And what greater thing can a man ask than that?
With all my love, always,
Dad.
Charles reached for another tissue as, not far away, James and Meg sat together on the sofa in the tiny sitting room at Heston Lodge, not speaking but quietly holding hands. On the coffee table in front of them, with only a few cracks visible, sat the recently repaired sphinx. Meg, with half-remembered recollections floating hazily through her mind, had a gentle smile on her wrinkled face as she gazed wistfully into the depths of a large blue sapphire.
<
br /> --The End--—
About the Author
Richard had long cherished the idea of writing fiction ever since, while still a child, he attended an English Literature event with the author, Leon Garfield. However, life took another path and his training was in a different field: he studied at the Royal Academy of Music for five years, between 1984 and 1989, graduating with high honours and a recital diploma – the only guitarist in eight years to be awarded such an honour – and winning the Julian Bream prize. As Richard neared the end of his studies in London, he helped to found the TETRA Guitar Quartet – an ensemble with which he remained for over thirteen years, giving concerts all over the world and releasing four CDs to great critical acclaim.
In his own right, he has appeared on television and radio numerous times and his many solo performances include playing before Princess Anne at St James’ Palace. He has also played for the English National Opera orchestra, in addition to acting as coach and musical consultant on a number of plays and musicals in London’s West End.
He composed the incidental music to Chekhov’s Three Sisters, recently seen in London‘s West End, directed by Michael Blakemore and starring Kristin Scott Thomas, and subsequently broadcast on BBC4 television, and his music for Rumplestiltskin received over 300 performances in its first year alone. Another of his musical productions, Kennedy, was three times nominated for the RUTAC Drama Awards. He has also recently completed a five-volume set of pieces for solo classical guitar.
In addition, to being in constant demand as a teacher and adjudicator of musical festivals, Richard has also branched out internationally, writing for the Chinese Orchestra of Hong Kong. To date, two commissions have been premiered there: “The Fiery Phoenix” and a concerto for xylophone entitled “The Rise of the Dragon Prince”. In 2008, Richard was elected Associate of the Royal Academy of Music (ARAM), and he travels globally as an examiner for the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music.
His musical adaptation of “The Brothers Lionheart” premiered at London’s Pleasance Theatre, followed by a successful run at the Edinburgh Festival. Future projects include an adaptation of “The Selfish Giant“, by Oscar Wilde, besides a number of other chamber compositions. Richard’s first novel, “The Cryptic Lines” has now been adapted for the stage; and his song “Until You’re Safely Home,” having been premiered by the Military Wives Choir in the UK has since been performed all over the world, as well as featuring as part of the Canadian Military Tattoo in Ontario.
A native of the Lake District, Richard now lives in a leafy suburb of south London, where he has recently completed his next novel, “Order of Merit,” but he still relishes the occasional opportunity to ascend some of the more remote Cumbrian mountains!
For further information, or to contact Richard directly, please visit his websites:
www.richardstorry.com
www.crypticpublications.com
The Cryptic Lines Page 12