by Fox Brison
“I was just scared, I guess. My parents weren’t exactly the best role models, and until recently I was following them on their path to complete indifference. But now?” I thought of Ruth laughing at the park, opening presents and exclaiming with wonder as each one was revealed. I imagined Rachel radiantly pregnant with our second child standing beneath the mistletoe, waiting for me, the scent of gingerbread and cinnamon lingering whilst she fed me cookies and stollen.
Tears pricked my eyes for the Christmases I would never have.
I opened the restaurant door and noticed a white feather on the floor. I chuckled wryly. A few weeks ago I took it as good luck totem, now I saw it as simply the detritus of a balding pigeon. I picked it up and handed it to Hannah who ran a gloved finger down its barbs.
“Did you see that?” I grabbed her arm.
“What?” She furrowed her brow.
“Nothing, nothing at all.” I blatantly needed a good night’s sleep, because for a second there I could have sworn I saw golden sparks. I shook my head.
There was more chance of hell freezing over
Chapter 33
Rachel
Thursday 22nd December, 2016
I sighed as I cradled Ruth and watched her sleeping. Badger was lying next to her feet, curled up into a small ball of black fluff, guarding his charge.
We’d been to the cemetery the day before and placed a wreath on her parents’ grave. Ruth told them all about school and the prize she’d won for her Christmas tale. We never mentioned their deaths, oh I knew that day would come, but for now I instead celebrated their lives. I would tell Ruth story after story of her mother and I growing up, and of how much Tommy and Louise loved both each other and her.
It was a lovely bright day and it took my mind, briefly, away from the court papers that had been delivered two days earlier. In spite of everyone’s best efforts, apparently we were fighting a losing battle. They all tried to remain positive, but their eyes gave them away.
The eyes never lie.
Her advent calendar was hanging on the wardrobe door and there were only a few pockets left to empty. Ruth was excitedly counting down until Christmas whilst I was counting down towards the first court date in the new year. I’d thankfully managed to keep Ruth shielded from the total truth; she knew something was going on, just not the specifics. I kissed the top of her head and locked her scent into my heart.
Maybe… just maybe it would be better if the Floods did win custody.
I hated the thought of losing her and would fight it with every breath in my body, but I also had to face the very painful truth that I was powerless to stop it from happening, so I put the best spin on being vanquished by the rich and the heartless. Ruth would have everything she could ever want, or need. She’d go to the best schools, the best universities… wear the best clothes, have the latest technology at her fingertips.
She’d never have to worry about money.
I picked up another damned white feather. They were everywhere. It didn’t help that despite everything I missed Devon, or rather, I missed the illusion that Devon had so cleverly created. And what was worse? So did my daughter.
She had stopped asking me questions about Devon. I think she appreciated it not only hurt me, but that something had happened to change the dynamics of the relationship. I wiped my tears. Crying never did me any good when I was younger and I was growing sick of it now.
***
The knock at my door later that night should have been ignored too, but I was too tired to think straight. “Ms McTavers, we meet again.” It was Tommy’s brother, again, the smug bastard Robert.
“What do you want?” I hissed quietly. “Didn’t you say enough the last time you were here?”
As he pushed his way past me, I was suddenly very frightened. He was a big man with eyes that could only be described as dark. “Oh don’t worry,” he said when he noticed my alarm, “I simply have a proposal for you. You know, it would be polite for you to offer me a drink.”
I laughed quite derisively. “And it would have been polite for you to wait to be invited into my home. Say what you have to say and then go.”
“Clearly you have sought legal representation and I’m sure Ms O’Connell has told you we have a strong case.”
“Mine is strong too,” I argued.
“I’m sure,” he sneered. “However, in a court of law where the judge plays golf with my father every Saturday,” this time he shrugged, complacently. “Need I say more?”
No he didn’t. Bastard.
“Good, we understand each other. In a few days you are going to come into a substantial amount of money. Call it a slip of fate, an accident as it were, but you were never meant to have it.”
Devon had mentioned an inheritance, but I hadn’t really believed her. I put on my most sarcastic voice and it made him angry. “You really expect me to swallow that? Pull the other one, it’s got bells on.” He was flushed now, and grinding his teeth. It was extremely satisfying. I finally gave in and asked, “And you know this because?”
“Because my family are the executors of the will. We were informed yesterday that Heavenly Heirs have discovered a direct link between you and Andrew Gideon, the originator of the inheritance, and that you qualified as a righteous heir.”
“Me? A righteous heir?” It was incomprehensible.
“Yes. Now we want you to sign a write relinquishing your right to the money. If you do, we will drop the court case and make no objections to you adopting the girl.” I stood staring at him, utterly stupefied. “So Ms McTavers, the money or your niece.”
I thought about it – for approximately a millionth of a second. I started with nothing and you know what, I still had most of it left. It didn’t feel like I was losing anything because it meant I was keeping Ruth. “When and where do I sign?” I asked.
“Tomorrow-”
“Tomorrow? That quickly? Ah of course, you don’t want to give me a chance to change my mind, huh?”
“Ten a.m. at the offices of Flood and Williams,” he said angrily. “You have nice night. I know I will.”
Chapter 34
Rachel
Friday 23rd December, 2016
“I know the truth,” I snarled at Devon. I was surprised to see her, although in hindsight I should’ve been expecting it. Of course she’d be here to see the fruits of her labour.
“Rachel,” she looked around, edgily, “what are you doing here?”
“As if you don’t know! I was right it was all about money! Money! They didn’t want Ruth, she was just a pawn in your sick game. How could you? If you had just been straight with me, Devon, you know how much I love Ruth, I would have relinquished my right to the money in a heartbeat. A heartbeat! Why did you make me go through all of this? Some sort of twisted sadistic need to screw with the poor little orphan girl?” I finally met her eyes, her beautiful eyes that were filled with… sorrow? “Why Devon?” I whispered the question. “Why did you sleep with me? I’ve replayed things over and over in my head. I feel like a high priced hooker, sex for sale. Or a child trafficker, buying my own flesh and blood. If any of it meant anything to you please, Devon, don’t be there when I sign the papers, I beg of you.”
Devon stood in shocked silence as I ran from her and into the nearest lift.
***
“Ms McTavers, here you go,” Robert Flood handed me a single sheet of crisp white paper. There was a commotion in the corridor and I turned briefly to see what was going on. I stared at the beautiful woman standing with Hannah, Jane and Devon. She was smiling. Why the hell was everyone so happy? She took my breath away. Literally. She was almost incandescent, the pale winter sunlight casting a glow around her whole body and it was like she’d eaten six bowls of Ready Brek that morning.
I saw Devon grab some random woman by the lapels and physically lift her out of the way.
She looked ready for a battle.
Chapter 35
Devon
Friday 23rd Decembe
r, 2016
“Wait!” I dashed into the boardroom followed by Hannah, Jane and Celeste. “Give me that!” Everything was happening at break neck speed, Jane and Hannah had only just taken the final statements less than an hour before. Thank the lord. How on earth Celeste knew this was going down was anyone’s guess, but I’m glad she did.
“No,” Rachel said clutching it tighter.
“You’re too late D… D… Devon,” Adam laughed.
“No, actually I’m right on time you anal little prick. This is the last piece of evidence I need to prove what an unscrupulous, devious, evil man Uncle Marcus is.” I turned to him. “Do you seriously think any court in the land will award you custody of Ruth after reading this?” I then addressed Rachel. “Please, Rache, just wait, just give me a minute.”
“I gave you my heart, I’m not giving you anything else,” Rachel was incoherent. “I want that paper, I want to sign it and then I never want to see or hear the names Flood and Williams ever again.”
My heart leapt into my throat. Hang on a minute, did she really say…? Maybe, just maybe all wasn’t lost and she would give me another opportunity to say the most important three little words in my life. I ignored the ‘she wanted nothing to do with me’ part. I had to give myself hope.
“Deep breaths, dear, deep breaths,” Celeste interrupted and rubbed Rachel’s back. “I understand your position, I genuinely do. But you see, even signing that piece of paper won’t be enough, this firm uses contracts to trip up the unwary. There’s probably a clause in there that will allow them to go after Ruth at a later date. After all, she is a Flood and as such has entitlements.” Celeste nodded her head towards the opposition. They looked more like a mafia convention than a group of high priced lawyers and hedge fund managers. “They are about to get a shock though,” she chuckled. “Listen.”
“There are criminal charges-” Adam continued confidently, though significantly less so than a few moments before.
“Which will be dropped,” I interjected quickly, “once I hand over these documents to Maggie O’Connell and Detective Sergeant Angel. I have witness statements from one doctor and the tea lady at St Anne’s hospital. Between them they have identified Sophia Flood as visiting twice and Marcus Flood once. I also have a statement from the police officer who informed the Flood family of Thomas’ death.” I spoke formerly. There was no way I was going to muck this up with stutters and stammers and subtext. “In addition to this, we have phone records, emails, text messages, all negating the kidnapping and fraud charges.”
“We’re still suing,” Adam sneered. What an arse. Couldn’t he see the writing on the wall?
“I can see the headlines now,” Celeste spoke softly, “‘Flood and Williams threaten single mother with jail to force her into relinquishing Gideon Inheritance.’ Or how about, ‘fat cats send pit-bull to blackmail good hearted woman who took in the orphan child of her best friend when the Flood family wished the child dead?’ They press will have a field day with it.”
“Best friend?” I said incredulously, but Celeste gave me a look that told me to shut up right now.
“As I said,” Celeste returned to the question of the inheritance, “Ms McTavers helps the homeless, her next door neighbour, the local children… She is, quite frankly, rather amazing and exactly the sort of heir Andrew Gideon envisaged two centuries ago. Fight us, Marcus, Eric, take us to court. I dare you.” She chuckled, rather ominously. “It is interesting, is it not, that when Andrew first crafted his legacy he never imagined that his best friends would produce such mercenary descendants. Someone has to stop the behemoth from continuing to run roughshod over the little people, and Ms McTavers is just the person to do so. The pen used to be mightier than the sword but now it is the mouse, gentlemen.”
“Finally,” I threw my last folder down. Red. My role in this started because they made me choose a red file over a yellow one. They all stared as its contents spilled over the table. “Unfortunately, the information contained in this folder was gained illegally, or I can assure you, you wouldn’t be talking to me you’d be talking to a police officer in a dank interrogation room.” The conference room was glass and chrome, or as I stared at the folder on the table, smoke and mirrors.
“What on earth do you mean?” my father asked, doing a pretty good job of sounding shocked I was impressed. Because he knew exactly what I meant.
“Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul?” I said coldly. “This company is a house of cards that a small breeze would knock over.”
“Traitor,” Robert hissed, realising the game was up. I smiled at him, the shark was back and working the teeth. “What do you want?” He was standing at his father’s shoulder (who’d remained surprisingly quiet considering he had just lost five hundred million pounds) a devil in an Armani suit. Shame there wasn’t an angel on the other side.
“There are several memory sticks containing the details of this folder currently being placed in safety deposit boxes around the country. You’ll never be able to find them all.” There was a warning in my voice.
“So I repeat, what do you want?” Robert’s voice was cold and yet completely heated. Anger was a finely balanced instrument and his was on a knife edge.
“First of all, you will drop all claims to Ruth McTavers.”
“Done,” Uncle Marcus spat. “That little bitch trapped Thomas and I wouldn’t want any part of her, which includes the mongrel.” I saw Celeste hold Rachel back. I threw a piece of paper at him and he signed it without even looking at it. He knew I had him by the short and curlies.
“Secondly, you will have no further interest whatsoever in the Gideon Inheritance and you will not challenge it in a court of law. Just so you know, until Ms McTavers has made a final decision about the funds, Tara Stephenson will be taking control of it.”
“Her!” Robert exclaimed.
“Yes, her.”
“Anything else?” Uncle Marcus ignored my cousin’s interruption and signed a second piece of paper which he handed to my father who also signed it.
“Sort this mess out. You have six months to make restitution or the authorities will receive one of these memory sticks, anonymously, of course. Maybe now would be a good time for you all to take a wage cut.”
I turned and left the room, followed by Rachel and the rest of the Heavenly Heirs team. We were chased by an immediate uproar of voices.
Sometimes the little guys did win.
***
I took both of Rachel’s hands, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of this.” I ducked my head so I could meet her eyes and tightened my grip when I saw she was crying.
“I’ve never cared about money, Devon, ever. I did care about you. Loved you. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you did for me, for Ruth and me, but it can’t undo what went before.”
“Ra-”
“No, Devon. I’ve lost faith in you, lost trust in you. Take care.” She walked away without a backward glance and my heart shattered into a million pieces.
***
A few hours later I was well on my way to being four and a half sheets to the wind, thus melancholy was the order of the day. Hannah found me having a celebratory glass of champagne at the bar in the Hilton.
“Did Rachel get home alright?” I asked
“Yes, she invited us to a party at the café tomorrow.”
“Did Rachel say…” I shrugged. “Forget it.”
“She didn’t, but Ruth did. She’d made this humongous card for you. It was on the table in the front room.” That’s when the tears started, tears of hope. Maybe there was still a chance. “After the party Celeste is planning on showing Rachel the family pile.” Hannah took a sip of her champers and wrinkled her nose before ordering a vodka cranberry.
“The manor house out near Ide Hill?” I had an idea. It was a little crazy but I was a lot desperate.
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Ruth still wanted me around and Rachel… the look in her eyes when I was defending her to my fami
ly, that look couldn’t be faked. “Do you think I’d have enough time before she arrives at Ide Hill?”
“Enough time for what?” Hannah sipped her drink with a teasing look in her eyes.
“Enough time for me to make Rachel realise that she can’t live without me and, more importantly, I really can’t live without her and Ruth.”
Chapter 36
Rachel
Saturday 24th December, 2016 Christmas Eve
“So let me get this straight,” Jessie was drinking sparkling wine at the small celebration we were having at Eli’s café. I’d bought several bottles from the local off license and Mr Robertson thought he’d died and gone to heaven when I laid out nearly three hundred pounds on party supplies. “You’ve legally adopted Ruth and were given an inheritance.”
“That’s right,” I said, looking at the piece of paper in my hand. “I still can’t believe it. There must be something wrong.” I hoped there wasn’t because otherwise I’d just wasted a huge chuck of change. “Hannah, is this number right?”
“Oh yes, babe, quite correct.”
“Don’t call her babe,” Jessie said angrily. She was still pissed off with Hannah for the part she played in the whole affair. She put her trust in Polly Pocket and that trust, to her mind, had been abused.
“Jealous?” Hannah teased.
“Of course not,” but Jessie blushed. I didn’t see that one coming.
Much.
“So how much is it, dearie?” Mrs Jessop asked.
“Five hundred-”
“They wanted to take you to court, did all of this for a lousy five hundred quid?” Jessie looked at my pale face. “You’re fucking joking me? Five hundred thousand? Half a million?”
