by Ashley John
“This can’t be right,” he muttered, “you must have it wrong.”
They sat in silence, the sound of Fleet Street’s lunchtime traffic echoing around the corners of the room.
“It’s already done,” Tobias put on his lawyer voice, “He did it when it was still his to give away. You’re not entitled to anything.”
“He knew he was dying?”
He tried to imagine his father on his deathbed but he still couldn’t summon the memory of his face. All he could imagine was a feeling and it was a feeling of failure. For a split second, a smug and defiant smirk cracked his head in two.
“He had a few months to sort things,” Tobias nodded, “but after the cancer took hold, it was pretty quick. He went in his sleep, and -,”
“Cancer?” Joshua mumbled, expecting the tears to start.
“Prostate,” he said, “it’s no way to go. It got my brother, so I know what you’re going through.”
Joshua couldn’t hear Tobias. Joshua wanted to go to his father’s house in Holland Park but he wouldn’t be there. He didn’t even know where he was. Was he in a grave somewhere, smirking to himself? Was he on the fireplace of the ‘third party’, living out his days in a marble urn? He imagined it to be a woman in her twenties or thirties with big tits, fake hair and hunger for riches in her eyes. Had she seduced the old man in his final days, showing him enough kindness and cleavage that he signed on the dotted line, giving her an unearned fortune?
“There must be a loophole,” he planted his hands on the thick wooden desk, “You’re Tobias Cole! You know every trick in the book. C’mon, give me something to work with here!”
He knew he was begging but that couldn’t be it. He wanted to see an explanation, or a way out but he couldn’t see anything. He was clutching at straws and none of them were long enough to hold him.
“It’s all legit,” Tobias softened his voice, “it’s out of my hands. I assumed the letter was a final goodbye but maybe it’s an explanation from your father.”
Tobias nodded to the letter, as if urging Joshua to open it to give them both answers but Joshua couldn’t even look at it. He didn’t want to hear any excuses from a feeble old man on his deathbed. He knew it would be filled with the poison and bitterness Joshua had come to expect since his mother’s death.
“I don’t want to hear it,” he pushed the letter away from him, putting it back in Tobias’ court, “shred it. I have less than £11,000 in my trust fund and after that I’ll be broke.”
“Do you want my free legal advice?” Tobias smiled softly, “Use that money to get yourself a place, pay the rent for a couple of months, put some aside for bills and use the time to find yourself a job.”
“That’s not me,” he said, “you should know that.”
“Well, maybe it’s time it was you because from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look like you have many options.”
Joshua didn’t feel like he had any choice, other than to get on a plane and flee, with or without Levi. When he was far away enough, the confusion and questioning would stop and he’d slip back into the comfortable life he’d grown to know.
“I travel,” he stood up, “that’s what I do.”
“Maybe it’s time you found a new you. Go travelling but that money will run out quicker than you even realise and you’ve just lost your security blanket.”
Joshua didn’t bother to get Levi from the coffee shop. He jumped into the first black cab he could hail and headed straight back to Violet’s with the letter burning a hole in his back pocket. When he pulled up outside her Victorian terrace, he tossed a £20 at the driver, suddenly aware of money for the first time in his life. Tobias’ warning was echoing around in his mind.
“I have no idea what to do,” he paced Violet’s living room after telling her the whole story.
The dress fitters glanced to each other, raising their eyebrows with small smirks.
“It’s all very sad,” she stood as the fitters circled her, pinning and pulling the fabric around her slender body, “but I want to know what you think of my dress.”
Joshua stopped pacing and tried to focus on the dress but all he could see was a mass of white. I should have gone straight to the airport.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” he shrugged, collapsing into one of her Chesterfield armchairs.
“Just nice?” she planted her hands on her hips, “This isn’t high street crap, Joshua. This is £8,000 of couture dressmaking. It’s art.”
Joshua took another look at the dress but it just looked like a wedding dress to him. Fashion was never his thing. Travelling the world, he saw so many different styles and his wardrobe was a collection of wherever he was staying, wherever he’d been and whatever he could fit in his bag.
“It’s really nice, Violet,” he sighed, “You look beautiful.”
“That’s more like it,” she nodded, “secondly, you need to promise me you’re not going to disappear. I’ve only just got you back. I want to keep you for a couple of weeks, at least.”
It was a promise he didn’t want to make but he reluctantly nodded, knowing how much it would hurt her if he vanished.
“I’ll wait until the wedding,” he pointed at her, “but the second you’re hitched, I’m out of here.”
“That’s fine,” she winced as one of the dress fitters yanked on the corset strings, “I don’t want to walk down the aisle on my own.”
“What?”
“I want you to walk me down the aisle?” she winced, shooting daggers at the dress fitter, “My dad is still up in Scotland with his new family. I invited him but he said he doesn’t know if he can come, so I’ve uninvited him. He doesn’t know that yet but he will if he travels down here and he’s not on the guest list. If you don’t say yes, I’ll have to kill you.”
Now I definitely can’t leave.
“I’d be honoured,” he sighed reluctantly.
He gave it a couple of seconds to sink in and he let the genuine smile tilt his cheeks.
“Good,” she smiled right back, “because it wasn’t really a question in the first place.”
The dress fitters finished and scurried out of the room, taking the dress and their equipment with them. Violet changed into a pair of jeans and a loose silk blouse.
“Are you going to read that letter?” she ran her hands through his scruffy hair as she perched on the arm of the chair, “There might be some answers in there.”
“You knew my dad,” Joshua leaned forwards, pulling the letter from his back pocket, “this is just his way of having the last word.”
He held the letter in his hands, staring at it, hoping for an answer without having to break the seal.
“Are you going to let him?” her hand ran over the cut and he suddenly remembered falling in the bathroom.
He remembered Ezra being on top of him. He remembered how that had made him feel. Suddenly, the letter in his hands lost its weight.
Without a second thought, he clenched his fist around the paper, feeling it crush and condense in his hand, his father’s final words disappearing.
“Whoa, you never told me you had a tower in the middle of London, dude,” Levi craned his neck back, shielding his eyes from the sun as he stared up the glass front of Silverton Tower.
Silverton Tower stood for everything Joshua rebelled against. It was what he’d run away from. It towered over London, it’s glass sides reflecting and dazzling the weak sunshine. It felt strange to be there, knowing that his father wouldn’t be inside waiting for him.
It had taken him the rest of the week hiding out in Violet’s house to finally grow the balls to find out who the ‘third party’ was.
“Yeah, well,” he sighed, “I tried to forget this place.”
“And now you’re here to get it back,” Levi patted him on the back, “this is your time.”
Joshua didn’t know what Levi expected to happen but he wasn’t quite sure he was going to walk out with his inheritance in his back pocket. He knew there’d be a
struggle but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Whoever was sitting behind his father’s desk was going to get a piece of his mind.
They walked through the bustling entrance and headed straight for the long reception desk. The place had changed a lot since he’d left London but the feeling was still the same. It felt like a huge, glass prison and it had the ability to make him feel like that teenager again. No wonder I stuck both middle fingers up to this place. His father had always cared more for the company than he did for Joshua, so he’d always hated it like it was a sibling who’d hogged the attention.
It wasn’t always like that though, which made him hate it even more. When he was a kid, the company had been growing. They had come from a wealthy background but Silverton Industries started off as a small venture for Bill to break away from his father’s hotel business. Joshua’s mother died in a car accident when he was eleven and it was the same time Silverton Industries blew up, becoming the tech giant he quickly grew to hate. The bigger it grew, the further apart they grew and without his mum to hold them together, their relationship dissolved into a long stream of arguments and constant disappointment.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist pulled him from his memories.
“I need to get up to the top floor,” was Joshua’s opening line.
He wished he’d spent the morning formulating some kind of plan. If it wasn’t for Levi dragging him out of the house, he knew he’d have kept putting it off.
The young receptionist glanced over her glasses to give Joshua the once over. She was probably in her early thirties and she was completely gorgeous. He noticed that her blouse was unbuttoned at the top, showing just the right amount of cleavage to pique a man’s interest; any man, but not Joshua’s. Why don’t I care anymore?
“Do you have an appointment?” she placed her fingers on the keyboard, primed to type.
“Not quite,” he tried not to let her tone phase him, shifting on the spot, “but I think they’ll be expecting me.”
“Okay sir. Well, if you don’t have an appointment, would you like to make one?”
Levi nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.
“No, I want to see them now.”
He didn’t want to give away that he didn’t know who was sitting on the top floor. Was it the mistress he’d imagined or somebody completely different?
“I’m afraid the boss doesn’t take walk-ins,” she almost sounded amused, “so you’ll have to make an appointment.”
“Tell her,” Levi nudged him again, his bony elbow poking into his ribs, “tell her who you are.”
He glanced from Levi to the woman, feeling his confidence dwindling away. Any attitude or bravado had been stripped from him.
“I’m Joshua,” he started, “Joshua Silverton.”
“Okay,” she nodded, “well, Mr. Silverton, if you tell me what the nature of your inquiry is, I can try and book you an appointment. Are you looking for an internship?”
“Internship?” Levi laughed, “He should be running the damn place.”
She shot Levi a warning glance, which read ‘control yourself or I’ll call security’.
“Joshua Silverton. Bill’s son,” he said more confidently this time.
“Bill?”
“Bill Silverton,” Joshua tried not to sound surprised, “Of Silverton Industries. We’re in Silverton Tower.”
“I’m new here,” she shrugged.
He tried not to roll his eyes but he couldn’t help it. Most people in London knew who Bill Silverton was. He was a big deal in the business world.
“I need to see whoever is in charge here to discuss some private matters,” he strengthened his pose, feeling like he could regain some control.
“I have next Tuesday at noon?”
“You’re kidding, yeah?” he laughed.
She shook her head, clenching her jaw as she did.
“We’re getting nowhere here,” Levi whispered, “let’s just barge in there.”
Joshua knew all too well that nobody barged onto the top floor. Not because they wouldn’t but because they couldn’t. The lift was key-coded, so only permitted people could get up there.
“Can you call up?”
“Not unless it’s an emergency,” she stared back to the screen, “that noon slot has just gone. I can do five o’clock on Wednesday?”
Joshua clenched his fist on the counter but he restrained from banging it down like he wanted to. He’d been thrown out of the tower many times before, so he knew the wrath of the security guards all too well.
“Just forget it,” he forced a smile, “thank you for your time.”
“Have a nice day,” she grinned from ear to ear momentarily, before returning her long nails to the keyboard in front of her.
They wandered across the glass tiles, people in suits rushing around them. He looked up at the high ceiling, wondering how he could get upstairs without tripping the system. He used to know the code for the lift but he doubted it was still the same.
“What now?” Levi rested his hands on his head, “Are you giving up?”
“No,” he stared at the exit, noticing the troop of security guards, “I just don’t know what to do right now and -,”
“Joshua?” a woman’s voice echoed off every glass surface.
He turned around to see a small, dumpy woman, running towards him, dragging a mop bucket behind her. From her apron, he could tell she was one of the cleaners. He stared at her face, wondering if she was calling to him and not another guy with his name. It took him a second to recognise her but when he looked past the years of aging, it suddenly clicked.
“Constance?”
“Who’s the broad?” Levi whispered.
“My old housekeeper.”
Constance squeezed through two men in suits, pulling her mop bucket past them and hitting them both in the knees.
“It’s really you,” she beamed, looking up to him, “I can’t believe my eyes.”
She reached up, yanking him down into a tight hug. In the absence of his mother, Constance had taken over the role the best she could. She was paid to clean the house but her duty always stretched beyond that. She’d been the glue, trying to keep everything together. Through all of his troubled teen years, Constance had tried her best to keep him on the right path but she’d never quite succeeded.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I work here now,” she brushed her apron, her name badge glittering in the light, “when your dad went, he made sure that I’d have a job.”
She smiled from ear to ear but it felt more like a punishment to be cleaning Silverton Tower, rather than a reward.
“You were with him when he died?”
“Right up until the end,” she nodded, “I missed you at the funeral.”
He could see the disappointment in her eyes and it stung. She’d been one of the only people who’d ever shown she cared for him when he was crying out.
“I didn’t know he died until this week. It’s a long story,” a long story he’d only scratched the surface of, “he left me nothing.”
She shifted on the spot but it was obvious she already knew that.
“I did hear whispers at the house,” she stared at the ground, “I tried to tell him it wasn’t fair but he wasn’t himself.”
Had anybody really expected death to soften the iron fist of Bill Silverton?
“I’m trying to get up to the top floor but I got blocked at reception,” he said.
“I can help you there,” she leaned in and dropped her voice to a whisper, as if not wanting to be overheard, “the new boss is a bit of a mystery, to tell you the truth. Very secretive, if you get my drift? Nobody really knows him.”
“Like he has something to hide?” he whispered back.
“Maybe,” she nodded, “oh, he is handsome though. He has a face I could stare at all day, not that it interests you. Oh, Joshua, it’s so good to see you again.”
She reached in and stroked his chee
k, suddenly making him feel bad for never calling. She had her own kids, three sons if he remembered correctly but she’d always treated him like her fourth.
“What do you know about him? Where did he come from?”
Dropping her hand, she lifted it up to her chin, giving it a good scratch, “Not a lot really. He started showing up at the house when your father found out about his cancer. Oh, it was sad. Horrible way to go, if you ask me. It took both of my parents. He was there an awful lot towards the end and they had these private meetings with lawyers. Next thing we know, he’s running everything. Everything!”
Even if his father did it to spite him, he was sure that he wouldn’t just sign his life’s work over to somebody who was clearly taking advantage of a dying man. He tried to imagine Bill as a vulnerable man but vulnerable was something he’d never been. He’d barely shown emotion when his own wife died.
“I need to get up there,” Joshua glanced to the ceiling, “I need to speak to this guy. He’s got my inheritance and I’ve been left with nothing. My trust fund, it’s running out.”
“I always told your parents nothing good would come from spoiling you but they never listened. My boys worked for everything they have,” she pointed her finger at him, “did you get my Christmas cards?”
“Of course,” Joshua nodded, wondering where the hell she had been sending Christmas cards because he’d never received any, “every year.”
“Good,” she smiled softly, her eyes crinkling up.
“The top floor?” he urged.
“Oh, yes,” she nodded, “I clean up there all the time.”
“So, you have the code?”
He could see a light at the end of the tunnel.
“I have the code for the service lift. Its not as glamorous but it gets me where I need to go.”
“I need that code, Constance,” Joshua placed his hand gently on her shoulder, “please?”
“Are you up to no good again?” she leaned her head back, narrowing her eyes.
“Oh, you know me,” he winked.
“Too well,” she winked back, “3943#*”
Jackpot!
He repeated the code over and over, not wanting to forget it.
