Saints and Sinners

Chapter Twenty-Four

Boston

Massachusetts

Mary Stoddart let her son kiss her cheek and then led him through into the drawing room in silence. Neither of them knew what to say to each other. Brett had come straight from the airport, with nowhere else to go. Without asking him his preference, she poured him a large brandy, and then one for herself. She did not drink often, as the doctrine forbade it, but there were times when she ignored the demands of her faith and gave into temptation. She was lucky enough to have the freedom to do so.

"Thank you, Mom." Brett said, minding his manners as he swallowed his pride.

"What were you thinking?" She asked as he gulped at his drink, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and hanging his head in apparent shame. She sipped at her own drink and then put it down on the small side table beside her, then resting her hands in her lap, on the folds of her peach silk evening gown.

"I wanted to be on the winning side, Mom?" He murmured and she nodded, and closed her eyes, despairing at his stupidity. "And they are winning?"

"But you knew far too much, Brett? The Foundation were always going to burn you? Grace was your only chance...and you forced her?" Mary groaned in dismay, hating to think about what her son had done to her daughter-in-law. She had spoken to Grace, to apologise on his behalf, so she knew some of what he had done. "You bloody little fool?"

"I didn't betray anyone else...I just changed sides?"

"You betrayed Reece Cartwright...so you are indirectly responsible for what happened to poor Pamela?" Mary insisted, her heart breaking. "You are an embarrassment...and President Fletcher appeared on the television tonight talking about prosecuting you?"

"What? He can't...Grace agreed to go to the clinic and they only forced her when she had second thoughts...I wasn't even there...and she signed the paperwork?"

"Under duress?" Stuart Stoddart growled, walking past his son and heading straight for the drinks cabinet, choosing scotch for himself. "And then you abducted her...if you then forced yourself on her, you could be charged with rape?"

"I thought...I hoped she would come around to the idea..."

"You didn't think at all...not beyond imagining your growing bank balance? You certainly did not think about us...about what we would think?" Stuart said, beyond anger, sitting down beside his wife, as far as possible from his son. "How ashamed we would be?"

"I'll make it up to you...to everyone...I promise?"

"Do you still have a job?"

"Yes...I think so...Symonds said so?"

"Then you can rent an apartment...you can stay here for three nights and then I want you gone." Stuart said, reaching out to rest his hand on his wife's knee. She was crying. "Right now, I can barely stand the sight of you."

"Thanks."

"But your mother wants to stay in touch...so I expect you to do so...and when I think that you have learned some lessons...well...we'll see?"

"Some people will support your actions, Brett," Mary murmured, her voice breaking as she took Stuart's hand. "But you must not play up to it...they will not know why you are back of course...but they will know what you did...thanks to Sean Fletcher...and we expect you to be contrite?"

"I will not have you being a poster boy for the far right," Stuart added, bluntly. "Grace was wronged...by you...come up with whatever excuse you like, but you make it clear that Grace was mistreated by you...is that clear?"

"Yes...Sir."

"And you will give her an easy divorce...no arguments...no delays?"

"Yes, Sir."