by Dan Walsh
“Is that what you’re mostly expecting, a confrontation?”
“Well, it won’t get loud or come to blows but, yes, it’s not going to be a pleasant conversation. I am not sure how he will react, to be honest. I’m not sure how he’s even doing, physically, for that matter. I haven’t been keeping in touch these days.”
“Has his health been poor?”
“It hasn’t been great. I’m assuming it hasn’t improved these past several months. I think I already mentioned that the estate has been in decline for some years. Since the war started, especially since Churchill took over and the country has become so united, men like him who publicly supported Hitler, have been blacklisted economically. Many are already ruined. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find we are in the same condition. Of course, he doesn’t confide in me on such matters, but I think it’s fair to say, the weight of all this cannot have improved his health.”
Jack was a little surprised to see Elliot’s wholesale lack of compassion for their grandfather. But who was he to judge? If he’d been here and knew what Elliot knew about the situation, maybe he’d feel the same way. “Are you at all concerned that our visit might put him over the top? What if he has a heart attack or stroke? After all the things you said, then you add me to the picture, standing right there in front—”
“I think he’ll be fine,” Elliot said. “Physically anyway. If he has a couple of bad days after we’re gone, I’d think it well deserved. After what he put us through. Especially you and our father.” He stood. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not feeling a surge of pity for the man at the moment.”
Jack guessed their little chat was over. He stood as well.
“So, are you good for tomorrow? Pick you up, say, around nine?”
“That would be fine.”
“And it won’t all be sour grapes,” Elliot said. “It’s a nice drive there, once we get north of London. Be a chance to see places the war hasn’t touched yet. And the estate itself and the surrounding area are really quite beautiful. Maybe I’ll take you on a tour before we meet with Grandfather. Neither of us might be in the right mood after.”
43
On the following day, the first hour of the drive with Elliot proved quite challenging. It wasn’t the company, but the view outside. So many London buildings in ruins. Whole blocks in some areas. Nothing had been spared. Churches, government buildings, monuments, architectural landmarks, storefronts.
“Such a waste,” Jack said, when they finally got past all the bomb damage and started driving north into the country.
“Isn’t it?” Elliot said. “Hard to fathom how long it can take to build something compared to the minutes it takes to tear it down. And we didn’t even drive through the worst of it. Some areas are still impassable because of all the debris. Oh, by the way, did you find the letter from Renée?”
“No. I asked a nurse to look. She hadn’t found it before we left, but she said she’d keep looking.”
As Elliot had promised, the farther they got from London, the more pleasant the surroundings. So much of England’s countryside seemed completely untouched by the modern age. Mile after mile, a patchwork of low rolling hills, in various tones of green or beige, interrupted here and there by a smattering of farms or the occasional village.
They eventually began to exchange childhood stories, getting caught up on each other’s misadventures and the regrettable decisions of their youth. Although both men agreed, Jack’s stories were far more colorful and more often involved skirting the boundaries of the law. Elliot’s worst infractions landed him a visit to the Head Master’s office, at Eton College, accompanied by a stern lecture and maybe a caning. Jack was fascinated to hear Elliot describe what it was like to grow up in a boarding school, a world Jack couldn’t begin to fathom.
As they drove along, Jack kept looking for an opening to discuss Elliot’s relationship with Renée, but one never presented itself. He had decided not to push it after the challenging talk they had yesterday at the hospital.
Late in the afternoon, the northerly route they had been taking curved toward the west. “Not much farther from here,” Elliot said.
“I had no idea it was this far north.”
“Scotland is only about sixty more miles north of here.” They came to a fork in the road. Elliot turned right and went down the hill which quickly curved to the left. “The nearest village is just up ahead. Took a little longer to get here than I planned.”
Jack looked at his watch. It was almost 4PM. “Is your grandfather expecting us?”
“Somewhat. I called two days ago right after I got word about my leave. Told our butler I was planning to visit in a few days. Didn’t mention you. There’s a pub up here on the right. We can quench our thirst there and use the phone. I don’t expect a problem, but it also has some decent rooms to rent on the second floor. If need be, we can bunk their and visit the house in the morning.”
“Whatever you think is best. I’m easy to please.”
They both had a pint in the pub. Some of the regulars instantly recognized Elliot but were shocked when Jack walked in. Elliot seemed to enjoy their reaction and admitted freely when asked, “Yes, we are related. No, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. Meet Jack, my long lost twin brother. And if you share a few words with him, you’ll discover something else. My brother’s a Yank.”
With that, he took a seat. He leaned over and whispered, “They’re going to have some fun with that. Considering who Grandfather is, I’m sure the tongues will be wagging long after we’ve left.” He took another sip of his beer then stood back up. “I’ll go make that phone call and be right back.”
Jack was worried all the patrons would come over and start asking him questions. None did. But it was pretty clear, judging by the looks and expressions on their faces, he had certainly become the main topic of conversation.
A moment later, Elliot returned. “It’s all set. The butler said my room is ready. I asked to have one of the guest rooms available, and he said one was always kept in the ready. I didn’t mention you, but my grandfather will at least know I’m coming. So finish up and when you’re ready, we’ll head over. It’s just five minutes from here.”
They rode back through the village the way they had come, and turned left onto a private road. Soon they had arrived at a large wrought-iron gate. It was closed with a large chain lock around it. Next to it was a small guardhouse, unoccupied.
Elliot got out of the car. “A sign of our changing fortunes. Notice the overgrown vines and the lack of a gatekeeper. He was here the last time I visited. Thankfully, I have a key.”
A few moments later, they were driving down a tree lined path toward a beautiful mansion. Perhaps it had seen better days, but it was still majorly impressive to Jack. It looked to be four stories with multiple gabled roofs and more chimneys than he could count. There was a main center section, and matching wings to the left and right. On the left was a smaller, matching building but the end of it disappeared behind a large row of hedges. They drove around a large, rounded driveway with a statue and fountain at the center.
Elliot pulled right up to the front door. “Welcome home, Jack.” And he actually laughed.
Jack couldn’t help but laugh, too. “This is crazy.”
“I suppose half of this place is now yours. Although I suspect that won’t add up to much, if Grandfather’s been lax on his taxes. Are you ready?”
Jack sighed. “I guess. You’re going to do all the talking, right?”
“I’ll certainly start it off. It will be interesting to see how the old man reacts. I’ve thought about it off and on over the last day or so and I can’t begin to guess.” He opened the car door and got out.
Jack did the same.
As Elliot reached the oversized wooden front door, it opened as if on cue. The butler stood there and greeted him. “Mr. Elliot, how good to see you.” He looked at Jack and froze.
“No, Mr. Krebs. You are not seeing double. This is the
guest I mentioned. Although, to be more precise, he is really a member of the family, not a guest. Meet Mr. Jack Turner, my twin brother.”
Krebs eyes almost bugged out of his head.
“Although, unless I miss my guess, you already know about him. You’ve been with this family since before I was born, correct?”
Krebs nodded.
“Then you most certainly have met the young man before. Likely as a baby, would be my guess. You might even remember his father. Or should I say, our father, whom I’ve still never met.”
Krebs seemed to be trying to regain his composure. “Won’t you come in?” He stepped to the side and both men entered the house. “Do you have any bags?”
“We both just have overnight satchels Krebs, but we can get them ourselves. Is Grandfather expecting us?”
“He’s expecting you… and a guest. You’ll find him in the parlor in his favorite chair. Would you like me to announce you?”
“No, thank you. And Krebs, I meant no offense by what I said a moment ago. I know you weren’t complicit in what happened all those years ago, and I don’t hold you one whit responsible.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Follow me, Jack.” He took a few steps then turned left.
Jack did his best to keep up, but he was mesmerized by the interior of this place. The polished wood floors, the oriental rugs, the massive wall paintings, the double-high etched ceilings, the crystal chandeliers, the ornamental crown molding. Instantly, the various living quarters of his childhood—all of them slums— began replaying in his mind as if on a carousel. Jack looked at Elliot, walking past it all as though it were some kind of warehouse or office hallway.
He didn’t even see it. Any of it.
They walked past several doorways to a room at the end of a wide hall, then stepped into another amazing place. A large white marble fireplace centered the far wall, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covering the walls to the left and right. At the other end, a tall French window lined with burgundy drapes allowed natural light to pour in. Surrounding the fireplace, and placed along the edges of an oriental rug were a pair of overstuffed upholstered green chairs and a much more refined-looking, and less comfortable sofa.
One of the green chairs faced the fireplace, so Jack couldn’t see the front. An aged, distinguished British voice emerged from that space. “Elliot, is that you? You’ve finally decided to pay us a visit?”
“I have, Grandfather. But I’m sure, Mr. Krebs must have mentioned I’ve brought home a guest. Someone I’m quite certain you will want to meet. Although, meet is not the best choice of words. Perhaps I should have said, Meet again.”
After a long pause, the old man stood and turned around. His eyes went straight to Jack. He was stunned. He looked at Elliot, who was smiling, then back at Jack. His head slowly shook back and forth, involuntarily refusing the image before him.
“Grandfather, it’s Jack. Jack Turner, my twin brother. You remember, Jack?”
44
“J…Jack?”
“I think the resemblance is remarkable,” Elliot said. “Don’t you? Of course, that should be no surprise. Since we both sprang from the same fertilized egg and both grew in the same woman’s womb for nine months. What woman you ask? That would be your daughter, our mother. And as it turns out, we were born only minutes apart on the very same day, and at the very same place.”
The same incredulous look on his face, Grandfather said, “How did you—”
“How did we finally find each other, after the grand scheme you engineered to keep that from ever happening? Well, it wasn’t my doing. That’s for sure. I never knew my brother existed until a short while ago. Jack made this happen. And you should hear to what lengths he’s gone and the great sacrifices he made to pursue this reunion.” He looked at Jack. “Share with him a little bit of your journey, Jack. You know, the boat ride over, the U-boat threats, joining up with the RAF. Flying all those missions against the Luftwaffe.” He glanced at Grandfather. “He’s actually a war hero. A flying ace, just like our father was. And that cane Jack’s holding? Almost two months ago, after downing two Nazi bombers, he was shot down and almost died.” Elliot paused to let Jack speak.
Jack didn’t really want to, but he added in a few details to what Elliot had said.
“And I’ve learned,” Elliot continued, “Jack did all this not because he had some strong desire to fight the Germans. It was the only way he could afford to get over here from the States. And he took all these risks without an ounce of interest in sharing our wealth. Indeed, when he began his search he had no idea if he did find me, whether I’d be a prince or pauper.”
Jack was feeling pretty awkward about now. He was standing here before the man who had denied him the love and comfort of his mother, the friendship and a thousand missed memories with his brother, and had unjustly condemned him and his father to a lifetime of poverty, Jack thought he would be overcome with hatred. Maybe fighting back feelings to lunge at the man and pummel him with his fists.
But all Jack felt was pity. He was an old, worn-out, pathetic, broken shell of a man with nothing but deadness and sadness in his eyes. Jack was, however, enjoying the way his brother was handling the situation.
“Speaking of reunions,” Elliot said, “you should know Grandfather, and it humbles me a good deal when I consider it, that Jack’s main goal when he embarked on this adventure was to find me. That’s it. That was the goal. He wanted to secure a future far different from our past, one where we two, as brothers…” Elliot began choking up as he said this. “Where we would have the opportunity to possibly become friends and at least have the chance to spend some time together doing the kinds of things brothers often do.”
Elliot wiped the tears forming in his eyes. Jack looked at the old man. The stunned look was gone. Another look. Jack didn’t know what it was. It didn’t seem like regret.
“It might bring you some small relief, Grandfather, to know that Jack didn’t come here to satisfy some primal urge for revenge against you. We both know, don’t we, that a vicious injustice was visited upon him and our father by you many years ago. And this surprises me…not that you might have done something unjust, but that Jack didn’t come here on some vendetta to square the score. I’m sure, if I were him, that might be my first and only motivation. But the truth is, he may harbor some dark feelings toward you, and rightfully so, but I haven’t heard him utter a single word against you since our first conversation. Whereas I, when I think of you, feel nothing but contempt.”
“Do you imagine that this is something new for me, Elliot? Feeling contempt from you?”
“You’ve felt it before, have you? Then take that feeling and multiply what I’m feeling now by at least a factor of four. What you have done, Grandfather… the heartlessness, the utter cruelty, the wholesale lack of any consideration for the feeling and well-being of others. And not just others, but your own flesh and blood. How could you have done this? How could you have possibly justified something like this? Even in the moral vacuum of a mind like yours?”
“Elliot.” He sighed. “You would not be able to comprehend the situation as it was then if I tried to explain it a dozen different ways. Look, I am tired and feeling rather faint. I have to sit down.”
“That’s fine. But if you must sit down, please sit down over in the other chair. We are not through talking, and I refuse to talk to the back of a chair.”
“Very well.” Grandfather walked slowly across the rug and did as Elliot requested. The two of them followed behind and sat on the sofa, slightly apart, facing him.
“Actually sir,” Elliot said, “I think I do understand a good bit of what was taking place back then, as you say. Jack and I both understand it, to a good degree. I think the story goes something like this…” Elliot went on and talked for several more minutes, explaining what they’d imagined their grandfather’s scheme was; even what his motivations might have been. Things similar to the conversation they’d had back at the pu
b when he and Jack had first met. Their grandfather’s complete and utter rejection of their father as a proper husband for his daughter. The scandal of her pregnancy. The outrage over their elopement. The ruined reputation of the family name. The economic consequences and ramifications. The fortuitous crash of their father’s airplane, and his crippling injuries. The sudden and convenient dependence on the young couple for Grandfather’s help. The conjured-up scheme to force their separation. The offer to purchased their parents’ silence and willingness to cooperate with the myriad of lies.
Jack watched Grandfather’s eyes as Elliot ran through the litany of deceit. Clearly, it was all true.
When, Elliot had finished, “So, how far off was that? Have I missed anything?”
The old man didn’t reply at first. Then he said, “I don’t know what you are expecting from me, Elliot. Do you want me to say, you have won? You’ve figured out all my sins and schemes and have laid my soul bare? Okay, then I’ll say it. You have won. I have no answer to any of the things you’ve said. And clearly, seeing Jack here now, and hearing all he has been through to find you, it is obvious my great plan has failed.”
“Grandfather, I don’t want you to admit I have won. I want you to admit you were wrong. Horribly wrong. More than that, I want you to see it. To see the wrong in it, from top to the bottom. And everywhere in between. You wronged Jack. And me. You wronged our father. And our mother, your own daughter. Forcing two young people who genuinely loved each other, and who got married in the eyes of God, and who were willing to live together as man and wife…you forced them to live the rest of their lives apart. And for what reason? Because Father was an American? Because he didn’t have noble blood running through his veins? Grandfather, he was a decorated war hero. A man you should have been proud to welcome into this home. But for your silly, outdated, antiquated ideology you subjected this entire family to so much suffering, heartache and ruin. And what do you have to show for it? Absolutely nothing.”
