When the Least Favourite Doesn't Care

Learning Something New

I think it should be clear to all that life with Gerald was not great yet after that night our father/son relationship was the best it had ever been, primarily because we never saw each other. They were the golden years. However, the ship of relations between us changed course completely one evening when I received word that Gerald wanted to speak with me in his study.

The summons came at a little after 9pm and, being fifteen years of age my natural instinct was to refuse to do anything asked of me. However, I knew who I was up against and that I was under constant scrutiny, so I knocked on his door a mere five minutes later.

'Enter,' he demanded as if addressing a bothersome servant.

I spent a few minutes composing myself before looking down at Danger, who was sitting at my feet and saying 'here goes!' The door opened silently and I entered the room, Danger following behind because she was more wary of my old man than I was.

Gerald was sitting behind an ugly antique desk that was most likely only still in the house because it would take a crane to life it. He was smiling. That was unnerving enough but stranger still was the woman who was standing just behind him, her left hand resting on his right shoulder, the unmistakable glint of a very expensive diamond on her ring finger. Funnily enough, she was not smiling.

'Come on in child and shut the door.' The tone of his voice was almost friendly, instantly I was on my guard.

'What can I do for you Gerald?' I asked in such a civil, almost respectful, manner that I surprised myself.

His smile wobbled at my use of his name yet he managed to rescue it from disappearing entirely. In the years since we had last met he had aged considerably. The lines on his face were deep and long. His eyes looked dull and the bags beneath them were dark and heavy. The biggest change was his hair which was completely grey; I hoped I was the reason for it.

'Take a seat,' he said while gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. I don't think he expected me to obey so readily but, like a good son and heir, I did what my "father" asked. 'Well, I expect you are wondering why you are here.'

I didn't answer. I was curious to know what had required him to break the four years of no contact between us. In all honesty, I had a good idea of what was going to happen, the clues were all there; I just didn't want to make things too easy for him.

'Well, you have grown.'

'Thank you,' the small talk was insufferable – presumably it was for the benefit of the lady.

'Yes, quite the young man now. Well done.'

'Thank you,' I said again. There were many other things I could say in response, there were also many pleasantries I could have said myself but where would be the fun in that? My answers were just enough to be polite while also being curt enough to show who held the superiority – perfect communication for a man of status, Gerald would have recognised this and he was powerless against it. The twitch of his eyes told me that he wanted to put me in my place, to knock me back down with the common people yet he dared not say anything because of the woman standing beside him.

'I imagine you are wondering why you were invited here this evening?'

'I am sure it is something exceedingly important, why else would the silence between us be so suddenly ended?'

'Well, yes, quite right. I have been meaning to say, actually, about that. The misunderstanding between us has weighed heavy on my heart. I would very much like to clear the air between us. We are both gentlemen, no reason we cannot be civil to each other.' He stops and looks up at me, his eyebrows furrowed together pleadingly – if we were in the military and he was wounded that look would be begging me to put him out of his misery.