When The Reign Stops

Chapter Three

He stood about a metre away from Marie who had retreated into the pile of bags at the sound of his voice. His hair was greyer and more wispy than I had remembered, but his beard just as full. His trousers loose around his waist, excess material at the ankles protruding over two brown loafers with undignified pride. Ignoring Marie, he took an awkward step into the room, the threshold creaking under his weight. I was relatively tall for a woman, but Grandfather towered above me as he always had- his head in a constant argument with the ceiling. For a moment, time stood still. Annie and I aligned in our state of shock and shared reminiscence as we kept our eyes on him. My Grandfather, Lawrence Westwick was merely a memory. As fleeting as a game of snakes and ladders or a walk on a rainy day. The same can be said about about the relationship he had with my Grandmother. It had been so long since their divorce that their marriage had become fragmented and I didn't consider them as once as being united in love. Our family had a weird definition of how to love. My parents love was very brief, though my sister and I had loved each other once, before we came to understand each other. My Grandmother and Grandfather had too- until they didn't.

"It can't be. Lawrence Westwick? At last I can put a face to your name."

There was a pause as my Grandfather darted his eyes from Annie to Blake, and back to Annie again, a gleam of something I couldn't quite read in his eyes.

"You must be Annie's husband."

Silence fell again while the two men acknowledged each other in the way that men do. Blake had been in awe of my Grandfather ever since Annie had revealed his career history and infamous success story, which I knew frustrated her more than she cared to admit.

"Blake Thurman. Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. Annie, my dear, you've grown into quite the young lady. You're married-"

"What are you doing here?"

Interrupted Annie, almost in a hiss. Grandfather swallowed a sigh and reached into his coat pocket, presenting a similar envelop to one I had analysed earlier.

"The same as you. I got Jade's letter."

At last he turned to look at me, giving me a half-smile, something people often did to me. A cautious smile, as if too much movement in either corner of their lips would break their face into a million pieces.

"I appreciated the gesture. Especially at this time."

"Oh, it wasn't intentional, now, was it Jade? She isn't that thoughtful. But she is that clueless seeing as she didn't write the letters, or send them- she didn't know of their existence until we arrived at her doorstep. She's perfectly happy on top of this hill, in this priceless estate and her minimalist job."

Marie, who had been quiet for some time, reappeared with the front door keys jangling from her pocket.

"Miss Westwick, the front door was left wide open."

"Ah yes, I wondered how Grandfather managed to walk in so suddenly."

I gave Annie a sharp look.

"I guess being clueless must run in the family."

-

I gave Grandfather the smallest of the guest rooms. From my memory he had never cared much for the ornate taste of my Grandmother, nor shared the desire to furnish to the extent of their wealth. The little luggage he brought with him was taupe and trim and I could imagine the sensible contents he had stored away in it. Just as I was about to leave the room, he cleared his throat and looked at me sternly.

"Is what Annie said true?"

"About the letters being unplanned? Yes. I didn't send them."

He stopped dead in his tracks and his stillness was almost enough to unsettle me.

"Then who did?"

This time it was my turn to be still.

"I need time to gather my thoughts before I come to a conclusion."

"You sound exactly like your Grandmother."

We locked eyes and I could tell he truly meant it. People always said I sounded and looked the spit of my Grandmother, Evelyn Westwick. I twirled a lock of raven-black hair round my finger to hide how much of a compliment this was to me and then snapped back to reality when his gaze began to wander.

"Why did you come here?"

"The letter."

"That was the only reason?"

"The only relevant one. Hence the only one you'll be interested in."

"Anything you say has relevance."

"The letter. I though it was your way of indicating you knew something."

"I do know something."

I took a step closer and his breathing thickened.

"But you're practically a stranger to me. So why would I tell you?"

"The moment I stepped in this estate we became family again."

"Family?"

"I am your Grandfather by blood."

"Your point is?"

"Every family has it's secrets that are better left untouched. I think you know something that you shouldn't-"

He began to wheeze as his sentence trailed off into a coughing fit as I noticed Marie's shoes hovering from under the gap in the door.

"I'll see you at dinner. You should do something about that cough."

I left the room, shutting the mahogany doors behind me to find that Marie's shoes had disappeared completely. If she was eavesdropping, she had timed her exit perfectly. Tentatively, I made my way back to by bedroom, the high ceilings calming my wandering conscience.

I only had a matter of hours to put the pieces together before dinner.