by Carys Jones
‘Continue for 2.3 miles,’ Aiden’s satellite navigation system told him after he had inputted the coordinates for Samuel’s ranch.
‘You can’t miss it,’ the secretary had assured him. ‘You travel down a road for almost three miles, Fern Lane, and then the ranch is at the end of it.’
So Samuel Fern had his own road, that was certainly impressive and a first for Aiden.
The radio played more country music. The current song was about a couple who only seem to get along after a couple of drinks. Aiden found himself growing increasingly fond of country music.
Soon enough, he was turning on to Fern Lane. Even the sign for the road looked expensive. It was clearly put up privately as it was much fancier than the generic road signs.
Around the road the land was dry and desolate, much like most of the surrounding territories. Avalon could be extremely hot and dry which was reflected by the lack of green vegetation. That was perhaps the one thing Aiden truly missed; the abundance of fresh nature. He missed seeing trees, forests and fields full of tall, green grass. Whenever he expressed this feeling to Isla, she’d just roll her eyes at him.
‘We should have moved to Maine,’ she’d tell him. ‘I’d have been happier there.’
Aiden continued down Fern Lane, keeping his eyes eagerly pinned ahead, waiting for the ranch to come in to view.
He didn’t have to wait long.
If ever the word grandiose required a visual aide, it could be found in the form of Samuel Fern’s ranch. The impressive building suddenly appeared before him, as hugely imposing as a castle.
The ranch was completely surrounded by tall brick walls, atop of which appeared to be electrified fencing. The only way in was via the dense gates which the road led to. But Aiden couldn’t see through the walls or gates, he could just make out behind them the upper parts of the ranch, which included turrets and various balconies. It certainly looked unbelievably impressive; Edmond’s home would seem like a trailer in comparison.
Slowing his car, Aiden stopped at the gates and wondered what to do next. The security was like that of a fort. Two CCTV cameras swirled to look at his car as he tried to remember how to gain access.
‘There’s a brick,’ the secretary had said, ‘just by the gates. It’s concealed, but if you look hard enough it has a small black button and a speaker. Just press the button and wait for someone to speak to you. It’s the exact same model that Hugh Heffner has,’ she’d added proudly.
Aiden had wondered if Samuel Fern had installed it to make his wife feel more at home.
Glancing at a small protrusion of rockery which he assumed would contain the entrance rock, Aiden squinted in the bright sunshine to find the small black button. At last he spotted it and rolled down his window, allowing his left arm to be exposed to the fierce afternoon heat. He pressed the button and waited.
There was no crackle like there was with the intercom at the office. Instead a male voice responded, sharp and clear as though they were stood right beside him.
‘Can I help you?’
‘It’s Aiden Connelly, I’m here to see Samuel Fern.’
‘Come and park in the visitors’ area,’ the voice instructed as the strong gates began to slide open.
Aiden drove in to the complex and took in the true glory of the ranch. Although it now seemed redundant to call it as such as it was so much more than that.
Samuel Fern’s home looked like an old English mansion. It was massive, spreading far beyond what Aiden could see. There were full length windows lining the front of the building, easily more than twenty, above which were balconied windows and various terraces.
As Aiden parked up and took it all in he had a strange feeling that the building looked very familiar. He’d definitely seen something remarkably similar before. He waited for the memory to surface and then knew instantly where he’d seen the building before. It was almost identical to the Playboy mansion in California. Aiden felt a little shamed to know what the mansion looked like, but like any teenage boy he’d harboured a fascination with the place and had always dreamed of going there. And now he was getting to live out that fantasy, sort of.
Again, he wondered if the house had been built to the specifics of the Playboy Mansion to make Deena Fern feel more at home.
The front doors to the fortress opened as Aiden approached and a lady, who Aiden assumed was Samuel’s secretary, was waiting to greet him.
‘Mr Fern will be down momentarily,’ she informed him politely. ‘Would you care to wait in the library or, as it’s so nice, you could wait by the pool?’
‘By the pool sounds good,’ Aiden nodded.
The secretary began to lead him through the house towards the pool out the back. The interior of the home was just as extravagant as the exterior.
A sweeping staircase led to the upper levels, made of pale marble. The marble theme was continued throughout the home with marble floors and also various pillars. Expensive-looking antiques were dotted around; a vase here, a sumptuous painting there. The walls were painted a light beige so that the whole place felt open and spacious. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
As Aiden walked through, he noticed amongst the artwork were framed pictures of Mrs Fern during what must have been her modelling days. And then, as they were about to leave the main foyer, a framed picture of her spread in Playboy. Aiden immediately averted his eyes, feeling his cheeks instinctively flush.
There was certainly no speculation now as to whether or not she had been a Miss September and Samuel was clearly most proud of that accolade.
From the foyer they entered the vast kitchen, which was large enough to accommodate a hotel let alone a family home. Whilst equally impressive, with state-of-the-art electronics and dark wood complemented by granite worktops, this room felt more lived in. On the double-door fridge there were various pictures of what must have been Samuel’s sons, accompanied by children’s artwork, lovingly held up by magnetic shapes. Whilst the kitchen was still eye-wateringly opulent, it was nice to see the family element creeping into it.
Samuel’s secretary opened one of the six bay doors in the kitchen which led them out on to a terrace, beside which was the pool.
The pool was one lagoon after another, joined by slides or small tunnels. Surrounded by rocks, it managed to both blend in with the landscape whilst being an oasis. The dazzling sapphire water looked especially inviting in the dense heat as there was no breeze to take the edge off the sun’s penetrating rays.
Aiden surveyed the pool and thought how much Samuel’s sons must love it, which made him think how much Meegan would love it and he had a momentary pang of missing her. He could imagine her gleefully running up to it on her unsteady little legs, demanding to go in and impatiently allowing Aiden to put on her arm bands before she’d dive in with a surprisingly large splash.
‘Can I get you something to drink?’ the secretary kindly offered as Aiden sat down at a wrought-iron dining table under a pagoda. It was cooler in the shade but only slightly.
‘An ice tea would be lovely, thank you.’
She left and Aiden tried to focus on the job at hand, rather than gawping at the flagrant displays of wealth around him.
His drink arrived before Samuel Fern did, thankfully cool in a tall glass, adorned with a slice of lemon. It tasted amazingly fresh, Aiden should have known that a man as wealthy as Samuel Fern wouldn’t waste time with the store-bought stuff.
‘Mr Connelly,’ a deep voice called out to him from close by, and a man with more than a striking resemblance to Buck Fern came out of the kitchen towards him. He wore slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt which was unbuttoned slightly at the top. He had a thick covering of white hair on his head and the same flint-sharp eyes as his brother.
‘Welcome to my humble home.’ He laughed to himself at the humble part. Samuel’s voice had lost the Southern lilt which coated Buck’s, which could probably be attributed to a life lived away from Avalon.
‘You’ve a stunni
ng place here, Mr Fern.’
‘Please, call me Sam.’
Sam sat down next to Aiden as the secretary reappeared to take his drinks order. ‘I’ll have a Tom Collins,’ he told her, waving a dismissive hand.
‘Did you find the place all right?’
‘Yes, no problem.’ Aiden nodded.
‘I appreciate you coming out here so soon. I’ve just got some matters which need sorting. I imagine Edmond filled you in, he’s a good man.’
‘Yes he uh…’ Aiden cleared his throat uncomfortably. He suddenly felt very awkward to be entering this home, this kingdom, where there were pictures on the fridge, to question the authenticity of it all.
‘He mentioned you have some…concerns about your younger son?’ Aiden lowered his voice respectfully as he spoke.
‘He’s not mine!’ Sam declared with frightening sincerity. ‘You need only look at him next to his brother; he’s not a Fern boy!’
Sam’s drink arrived and he eagerly took a long sip from it.
‘I just need proof,’ he told Aiden, his voice level, cold. It was obvious that Sam was prepared to be as shrewd in his private life as he had been in his professional one.
‘You don’t get to the top through making friends,’ Aiden’s mother used to tell him. And he saw what she meant, to hear Sam Fern talk so coldly about his wife and son.
‘So a paternity test?’
‘Whatever it takes.’
‘Will your wife agree to a paternity test?’ Aiden queried, thinking of the pictures, the framed Playboy image. The house, whilst overtly opulent, did appear to be full of love. But then appearances can be deceiving.
‘Probably not,’ Sam sighed. ‘She’s adamant the boy is mine, but I don’t buy it. You need only stand him next to his brother to see the truth of her indiscretion. I’m expecting you, as my lawyer, to handle this. I want that paternity test with or without her consent.’
‘I’ll certainly do my best.’ Aiden felt uncomfortable about going against the boy’s mother. He’d rather reason with her and see if he could get her to agree to the test, keep things amicable. No doubt if the son wasn’t Sam’s, things would get increasingly messy so he wanted to prevent causing further anguish within the family.
‘Marriage isn’t what it used to be,’ Sam Fern mused sadly. ‘When my parents got married, it was for life and they were genuinely committed to one another.’
‘You don’t think marriage is like that now?’ Aiden asked, sipping on his delicious iced tea.
‘Is it?’ There was something oddly knowing about the way Sam asked, which again made Aiden question just how close he was to his brother Buck.
And the question instantly made Aiden think of Brandy. He tried to push her from his thoughts and was grateful for the distraction when Sam’s secretary hurried over to them, looking concerned.
‘Mrs Fern is here,’ she said apologetically.
‘What the hell is she doing home already?!’ Sam scoffed angrily.
Aiden shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He’d rather not be present if a domestic was about to take place.
The sound of high-heeled shoes clipping against the marble kitchen floor proceeded Deena Fern’s entrance. As did the high-pitched squeals of young children.
The boys came running out on to the terrace first. Well, one ran, the other toddled in a style akin to Meegan’s. They eagerly came over to their father.
‘Daddy!’ the older of the two boys greeted Samuel Fern merrily. ‘We went to the store and bought baseball stuff.’
‘Baseball!’ the younger boy echoed happily.
‘Boys, you need to settle down. We have a guest,’ Sam gestured to Aiden and the two boys turned to stare at him with wide, questioning eyes.
‘This is Mr Connelly. Mr Connelly, allow me to present my boys. This here is Jude,’ the older boy politely extended his hand in greeting which Aiden shook, bemused at the formal gesture.
‘Nice to meet you Mr Connelly,’ Jude told him, his childish manner suddenly gone and instead a young man primed to inherit his father’s empire stood in his place.
‘And this is Davis.’ The youngest boy did not move to shake Aiden’s hand; instead he hid shyly behind his older brother at the sound of his own name.
‘They’re chalk and cheese,’ Sam said, casting an angry eye towards the now-hidden Davis.
Upon meeting Samuel Fern’s sons, it was evident that the two young boys could not be more different both in manner and in looks.
Jude was noticeably tall for his age and already had the look of a long, lean body. He had curly blonde hair and the same ashen eyes as his father. He was polite, courteous and seemed keen and alert. Jude was already displaying some of the traits he would have as a grown man and it was immediately evident that Sam Fern was very proud of his oldest son.
Davis seemed to have a shorter, stockier physicality. He couldn’t have been much taller than Meegan. His hair was dark brown and shone in the sunlight. And it was as straight as it was dark, sitting flatly atop his little head like a helmet. His eyes were almost the same colour as his hair; rich and dark. A spattering of freckles bought out by the sun were dotted upon his cheeks and despite his shyness he seemed playful.
In contrast, Jude’s skin was flawless. There was no denying that the boys really were polar opposites but that didn’t exactly indicate infidelity. Aiden knew plenty of siblings who were nothing alike, even those who were twins. But Sam Fern was adamant that something was awry.
‘They were playing up at the store so I had to bring them back early,’ Deena Fern called from inside the house as her clipped footsteps drew closer. She came out on to terrace, dressed suitably for the part of a millionaire’s wife.
She wore denim hot pants, twinned with a crisp white T-shirt and beige wedges which showed off her long, tanned legs. Her platinum-blonde hair cascaded down her back, pulled back by a pair of designer aviator sunglasses which she’d pulled up to reveal sparkling blue eyes.
Deena Fern still retained the beauty which had made her a Playboy centrefold. Her skimpy clothes emphasized her curves which, even after having two children, were impressively defined. She was tall, even without her shoes she’d easily have been close to six feet tall, making her taller than her husband.
Her face, whilst no stranger to the surgeon’s blade, was still stunning to behold but in the brash style that glamour models seemed tofavour. Her eyes were framed by false lashes, her skin glistening from foundation and her lips a deep red from gloss. She was dressed to impress even though she was only taking her sons to the store. Men’s eyes would always follow her wherever she went, Deena made sure of it.
‘Deena, I have company,’ Sam told her curtly. Deena flashed a quizzical look at Aiden and then back to her husband.
‘I didn’t know you were having a business meeting today,’ she said sternly, as if annoyed at being left out of the loop with regards to his plans.
‘It’s not business.’
‘Baseball,’ Davis peered out from behind his brother to whisper the word to Aiden, and then promptly popped back in to hiding.
Aiden smiled. Both of the boys were adorable.
‘Can you take the boys inside?’ Samuel asked his wife.
‘But it’s so nice out,’ she objected, deliberately being difficult.
‘They can come out when my guest has gone.’
‘I promised them they could go in the pool.’
‘Well in an hour or so they can.’
‘It will be getting cool then.’
Samuel Fern closed his eyes and exhaled. He was clearly tiring of the conversation with his wife.
‘Take them in,’ he told her, exasperated.
‘You take them in; I’ve been with them all day!’ Deena was getting angry but there was something more in her voice, something hurt.
Aiden imaged that it had not always been so strained between them. The framed picture of her centrefold said as much. She was probably used to men doting on her, and Sam Fern ha
d once done just that. But it was evident that things had changed, that the love within the home had cooled and it made Aiden sad to see two little boys, with innocence and purity in their eyes, get caught up in it all.
Jude and Davis had watched the interaction between their parents intently, their little heads moving back and forth as though they were spectators at a tennis match. They seemed uneasy to witness the dispute; it was not something they were apparently accustomed to seeing.
Usually in these sort of situations, the children would just carry on playing, as it was usual in their world to hear raised voices. But Jude and Davis looked fearful and alarmed by Sam and Deena’s dispute.
‘Take them inside,’ Sam Fern ordered his wife once more, his voice low and level.
‘You don’t spend enough time with them,’ Deena moaned, not caring about Aiden hearing this discussion. If anything, she seemed to enjoy having an audience as it was someone she could play up for.
‘Not now,’ Sam shook his head wearily. ‘Just take them in.’
‘Sam!’ Deena pouted angrily, her eyes narrowed as she pondered on how to further the argument.
‘Who is this guy anyway?’ she decided to turn her attention to Aiden but he shrank in to himself as he was pulled in to theconversation.
She regarded him with suspicious, hostile eyes. Scrutinizing him like he were an unwanted bug in her home and she was just deciding how best to get rid ofhim.
‘This is Aiden Connelly,’ Sam explained, his voice still low.
‘And who is he?’ Deena demanded.
‘My lawyer.’
Deena’s entire demeanour suddenly changed. Despite the warmth of the sun, she paled and almost shook within her bronzed skin, as though something had spooked her. She looked over to Aiden and he noticed the moisture which now misted her eyes.
She coughed awkwardly, trying to find her voice.
‘Jude, Davis,’ she managed to call her sons but she sounded strained, as though she was struggling to speak.
‘Let’s go inside while Daddy has his meeting.’
‘Pool!’ Davis whined, glancing longingly at the shimmering blue lagoon which he desperately wanted to play in.
