Читать книгу Second To Cry - Carys Jones - Страница 10

Chapter Two

Father to Son

Aiden knew that he needed to visit and speak directly with Samuel Fern sooner rather than later but his encounter with Buck that morning had left him a little unsure of the whole situation.

‘Buck Fern stopped me this morning,’ Aiden told Edmond before the older man could settle himself down in his office chair.

‘That must have been pleasant,’ Edmond scoffed, rolling his eyes. ‘What did our wonderful sheriff want with you?’

‘He was asking about his brother’s case.’

‘He was?’ Edmond’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

‘He claimed his brother had told him about it.’

‘Really?’ Edmond seemed genuinely shocked by this. ‘I didn’t think they spoke much, if at all.’

Aiden watched his colleague’s reaction closely, satisfied that he was telling the truth and thus could not have been Buck Fern’s informant.

‘It makes me a bit uneasy,’ Aiden admitted. ‘I don’t want Buck’s involvement in this.’

‘No, no, I completely agree.’

‘He just seems to always be all over everything.’

‘Buck Fern is Avalon’s rash. You can scratch away at him but he never goes away, if anything, he just spreads himself further!’ Edmond vented, shaking his head in annoyance. ‘Your best bet is to go straight to the source. Go see Sam Fern on his ranch, assess the situation and what he expects from the case.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Aiden agreed. ‘Is he quite easy to gain access to?’

Past experience had taught Aiden that a richer a man was, the more elusive he could be.

‘I’m not sure. Probably best to ask Betty as she would have dealt with him in the past I’m sure, through her church group for charity events.’

Edmond pressed down on the intercom on his desk and it crackled to life.

‘Betty?’

There was a brief pause and then a response came, marred by static. Aiden struggled to see the need for the intercom. They would be better served by either installing an internal phone system or by physically leaving the office and walking the minimal distance to the communal waiting area and Betty’s desk.

‘Yes, Mr Copes?’ Betty asked, her voice further aged by the poor line of communication.

‘Could you bring us two coffees and we also need to pick your brains about something.’

‘I’ll be right in.’ Betty confirmed.

Edmond would no longer ask whether Aiden wanted a coffee. Working just the two of them, in such close proximity, he had soon picked up on his preferences and now they each intuitively knew when the other would be wanting some sort of beverage or snack.

Aiden knew that if he was popping out to lunch, Edmond would also be most grateful if he picked up something sweet from the bakery across the street. And though Betty would also protest an offered Danish or doughnut, eventually she would concede and agree to eat one, simply, she stated ‘to stop it going to waste.’

There was a nice atmosphere within the office. In there at least Aiden felt accepted and a part of something. He wished those feelings extended to the rest of Avalon, he just had to keep hoping that in time they would.

Barely five minutes had passed when Betty entered with a small tray, upon which were balanced two steaming mugs of coffee.

‘Thank you, Betty,’ Edmond beamed, suddenly wishing he’d requested a snack to accompany his drink.

‘Yeah, thanks, Betty,’ Aiden said as he got up and took his mug from the tray.

‘What did you want to ask me about?’ Betty enquired after placing Edmond’s mug down, now holding the empty tray by her chest like a shield.

‘Samuel Fern,’ Edmond told her bluntly.

‘Oh?’

‘How easy is he to get hold of? I mean, does he accept visitors? Do people just make appointments to go out to the ranch?’

‘Oh, um…’ Betty pondered for a moment. ‘I’ve only dealt with him through my church group,’

Edmond glanced over at Aiden when she said this, with an expression which said, ‘see, I knew she’d know something’.

Aiden had to admit that Betty was always an invaluable source of local knowledge. If ever Edmond didn’t know something, which was rare, Betty almost definitely would. Together, Aiden wagered there was nothing the pair of them didn’t know about Avalon and its residents.

‘We never went out to his ranch; it was more to invite him to functions. I think he had a secretary who dealt with that sort of thing. I will try and find her number if you like?’

‘Yes thanks, Betty, that would be helpful.’

‘Does his secretary live out at the ranch?’ Betty had made to leave, but Aiden called her back with his question.

‘I believe so, yes.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Aiden wasn’t sure why it mattered where Samuel Fern’s secretary was based, he was just trying to put together a clearer picture of the man.

Betty left and Edmond surreptitiously made his coffee Irish which Aiden pretended not to notice.

‘So you’ve never had to deal with Samuel Fern before?’

‘Only his will,’ Edmond reminded him. ‘And he came here to do that. I see him on the golf course and we chat. He seems a nice guy, much nicer than his brother.’

‘Okay,’ Aiden nodded.

‘Although,’ Edmond now lowered his voice, ‘if anything happens with this paternity case, he will need to re-write his will.’

‘Oh. So is his wife due to get everything?’

‘The lot.’ Edmond said dramatically. ‘Her and the sons, obviously.’

‘Yeah.’

Aiden wondered about this. How could a man go from being so certain about a woman that he would leave everything to her, to wanting a paternity test to prove he had fathered her child? It seemed extreme to change your opinion of someone so drastically.

The intercom on Edmond’s desk suddenly came to life again, with Betty’s voice echoing out of it.

‘I’ve got that number for you,’ she informed them.

If the number had been for Edmond, Betty would have dutifully brought it in, however, since it was Aiden’s case, he would be expected to go and collect it from her. Betty still regarded Aiden as a new employee and, in her eyes, had yet to earn the level of respect she reserved for Edmond and previously his late partner.

‘I’ll go get it,’ Aiden said, momentarily excusing himself.

The air in the main waiting area felt fresh and light which made Aiden assume that Betty must have had the door open for some time. Outside the sun was still shining brightly so he couldn’t blame her for wanting to capture some of that beautiful weather indoors.

‘Samuel Fern’s secretary is called Rita Moore,’ Betty told him, handing him a Post-it note upon which she had written a number in her delicate cursive writing.

‘Right, okay.’

‘So if you call her, she can arrange an appointment for you to go and see him.’

‘That’s great. Thank you, Betty.’

Aiden glanced down at the number, thinking it strange for a man who had retired to need a secretary. Especially considering he’d been working in the oil industry, he was hardly a celebrity. It just seemed a bit extravagant, but perhaps Samuel Fern was. Aiden would soon find out first hand just what the man was like.

The office seemed stuffy after the freshness of the waiting area so Aiden opened the window closest to his desk. The air was warm and peaceful as it filtered in. Not like his old office, where you couldn’t open the windows as the sound of the traffic roaring past the building was so loud it would prevent you from working.

Edmond was now engaged with his own work so Aiden didn’t disturb him with further idle chat. Instead he dialled the number Betty had just given him. After three rings someone picked up.

‘Good morning, the estate of Samuel Fern, how may I help?’ came a sharp female voice.

‘Oh, good morning. My name is Aiden Connelly, I’m hoping to make an appointment to see Mr Fern—’ Aiden went to give further details but the lady on the phone cut him short.

‘I’m sorry but Mr Fern isn’t taking appointments at the moment.’

‘Ma’am, I’m his lawyer,’ Aiden explained.

‘What did you say your name was?’

‘Aiden Connelly.’

‘Just one moment, Mr Connelly.’

Aiden waited patiently as he was put on hold and made to listen to what sounded like whalesounds. He presumed it was meant to have a calming effect but it just left him feeling annoyed.

After several minutes the whale song ceased and Samuel Fern’s secretary returned, her voice noticeably softer than when she had originally answered.

‘Mr Connelly, Mr Fern would like to see you as soon as possible. Are you free this afternoon to come by the ranch?’

Aiden felt caught off guard at the immediacy of the meeting. He figured he’d get to see Samuel Fern later in the week, not so swiftly as thesame day.

‘Let me check my diary,’ he stalled for time as he checked his online diary, knowing full well that he was completely free. In fact the only thing in his diary was a reminder to collect milk on his way home.

‘If I move some things around, I could come by the ranch at about 3?’ Even though Aiden wasn’t busy he still wanted people to think he was, as they often associated how busy someone was with how competent they were at their job. At least that had been the mentality within his last workplace and it had stuck with him. If people perceived his schedule to be pretty clear it might make them lose confidence in him.

‘One moment,’ this time Samuel’s secretary forgot to press hold to subject Aiden to the whales so instead he could hear whispered voices speaking away from the phone. Though he couldn’t distinguish what they were saying, he could hear a man and woman speaking. The man must have been Samuel.

There was a flurry of movement near the phone and then the female voice returned.

‘Three o clock is perfect. Do you require directions to the ranch, Mr Connelly?’

‘Yes, please.’

Aiden had no idea where the ranch could be located. On his travels he had spotted some expensive-looking properties just beyond Avalon so perhaps it was one of those. The houses within the town were more modest.

It was Aiden’s hope that one day he might be able to buy a large property just outside of town, one with a swimming pool. Meegan would love that.

Edmond’s home was impressive, with a pool and a tennis court. Aiden and Isla were often invited round for functions and it was also a reminder to Aiden of what he was working for, to see such a beautiful home. More than anything it was the amount of land a home could be set upon which impressed Aiden. Within the city space was such a commodity but out here, on the open plains of America, you could quite easily acquire acres of land and then do with it as you wished.

Upon listening to the directions to Samuel Fern’s ranch, Aiden sensed that it was actually located quite close to Edmond’s home which would explain why the two men had become acquaintances on the golf course which they both frequented.

‘So when you heading out to see Sam Fern?’ Edmond asked after Aiden had concluded his phone call.

‘This afternoon.’

‘So soon! Well, like my mother used to say, there is no time like the present.’

‘Yeah, exactly. I think he lives out near your place.’

‘Now you mention it, I don’t think he lives too far from me. No doubt his place will be a palace compared to mine though!’

‘You’ve never been to the ranch?’

‘Nope, never had any cause to. Samuel Fern goes to parties, he doesn’t throw them.’

‘Got ya.’ Aiden nodded. ‘Well, I’d best pop out and get some lunch. Can I get you anything?’

‘Only if you’re headed to the bakery,’ Edmond said, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of lunch. ‘I’d hate to put you out.’

*

Isla plunged her hands into the warm soapy water and began scrubbing furiously at the casserole dish. At the kitchen table Meegan was happily playing with the remains of her own dinner, her bright laughter slightly stifled by the radio which was on. They were currently playing one of Isla’s favourite songs from when she’d been growing up and she hummed along to the melody slightly as she scrubbed.

The casserole dish was free of all previous grime and she began rinsing it when she looked up and saw the arm of the mailbox standing erect. Isla froze with the dish in her hand as the song continued playing but she was no longer humming. She squinted out at her mailbox. The arm was most definitely up.

‘Dammit,’ she muttered to herself as she began to dry her hands. All she could think of was that previous note. She’d managed to brush it off as some strange occurrence, but if there was another note in her mailbox it wouldn’t be so easy to dismiss.

‘Mummy’s just going to get the mail,’ she told Meegan, who didn’t even look up at her. ‘You be a good little girl, okay?’

Isla jogged out in to the afternoon sunshine and hurried over to the mailbox. The front door creaked in protest as she pulled it open. Peering in to the relative darkness she saw a crisp, white envelope and she felt her heart sink. Silently she removed the envelope, unmarked once more. Numbly she opened it and read the note contained inside. There was the same crude lettering, cut out from magazines and newspapers, but this time the message was different:

Avalon Doesn’t Need You.

Isla blinked several times as she looked over the note, shaking her head slightly. In her mind she was screaming that it was a threat but, externally, she tried to remain calm. She looked back up at the house where Meegan was obliviously playing with her dinner. How long had the note even been there? Had whoever dropped it off been watching her?

Taking a deep breath, Isla tore the note in to pieces, refusing to give whoever was sending them the satisfaction of upsetting her.

*

At half past two Aiden left the office and headed out towards Samuel Fern’s ranch just beyond the borders of Avalon.

The sky was as empty and vast as the ocean, letting the sun bore down unopposed on the residents of the small town and even in his car, with the air conditioning on full blast, Aiden could feel the heat from outside, pressing in at his windows.

He’d learnt early on that a formal suit wasn’t the best attire during the summer months so today he was dressed more casually than he ever would have been in the city; he was wearing cargo pants with a polo shirt. There was something bizarrely liberating about being able to go to work in weekend wear.

‘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 stunning 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 to favour. 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 had 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.

‘You can go in the pool tomorrow,’ Deena told him.

‘Pool!’ the toddler pleaded again.

‘Davis Jeremiah Fern, get in the house this instance!’ Deena managed to raise her voice enough to be taken seriously and both her sons obediently left the terrace and entered the house through the kitchen.

Deena followed them, but before she went inside she paused and glanced over at Aiden. It was hard to read her face as she’d lowered her sunglasses to cover her eyes. It was as if she was going to say something but then decided against it.

She went inside and closed the patio door behind her, leaving Aiden and Samuel alone once more.

‘I apologize for that…display,’ Sam said before taking a long sip of his drink.

‘It’s quite all right,’ Aiden lied. It was the most uncomfortable he’d been in a long time. He just felt like he didn’t belong, that even sat in his own skin he didn’t seem to quite fit. There was nothing he disliked more than being present when couples fought. There was something so private about a disagreement between lovers and to bear witness to it felt like you were gaining access to the intimacies of their relationship.

‘Deena forgets her place sometimes,’ Sam continued, making excuses for what had just transpired.

‘If you give a woman everything she wants, you reach a point where she just thinks she is entitled to everything.’

Aiden wasn’t sure how to respond, it was hardly an issue he could relate to.

‘So as you can see, it’s not going to be easy to get her on board with the paternity test.’

‘She’s spirited,’ Aiden offered kindly.

‘She’s spoilt,’ Sam immediately corrected him. ‘I know I’m partly to blame but still…’ his voice broke off and he stared off into the distance, momentarily lost to his own thoughts.

Aiden felt that it was time to leave. He’d had enough dramatics for one day.

‘Well it’s been lovely meeting you,’ he began making the required motions for his exit.

‘Yes, you too,’ Sam said, smiling at him, but the smile didn’t extend to his eyes which remained hard and cold. Both men stood up and shook hands.

‘My secretary will show you out,’ Sam said, sitting back down as Aiden made to leave. ‘I’m sure you understand that I want to stay out here for a while longer. Give things a chance to cool down inside.’

‘No problem, see you again, Mr Fern.’

‘You too, Mr Connelly.’

Leaving the heat of the terrace, Aiden entered the pleasant cool of the kitchen which was eerily quiet. He glanced around for any signs of anyone but the entire room was empty. Relying on memory as Sam’s secretary hadn’t materialized, he made his way back to the foyer.

He could now hear distant sounds coming from the upper level which must have been Deena and the boys.

His footsteps clipped as he briskly walked along the marble floor, eager to leave.

When at last he was within the sanctuary of his own car, Aiden allowed himself to relax and shake off the stiffness of being in an uncomfortable situation.

He began to drive home, the large gates automatically granting him leave as he approached, asking no questions as if the fortress knew that all he wanted was release.

On the radio a country sang twanged out, this time about two men being in love with the same, unobtainable woman. Aiden mused over what had occurred at Samuel Fern’s home and what he dwelled upon, what he found most troubling, was how distressed Deena Fern had been upon learning he was Sam’s lawyer. She had gone from sassy and confident to meek and fearful in the blink of an eye. He wondered if she did have something to hide. Maybe Sam Fern’s instincts were right.

Looking up, Aiden noticed that the sky was no longer open and blue. Clouds had formed on the horizon and seemed to be closing in. As beautiful as the sunshine was, it couldn’t last forever. You need a rainstorm to wash everything away so that the next time the sun shines,the slate has been cleared.