Stephen sat back in his chair, momentarily lost for words. Sandra continued to chew her tandoori chicken in a failed attempt to hide the smug look creeping across her face. Yeah, that’s right buddy. I figured it out.
She was surprised when Stephen started laughing. That was unexpected. She’d been anticipating a small emotional outburst, followed by relief that the truth was finally out and he could talk about it freely, maybe some tears, and then everything would spill out like an intervention on reality TV.
Instead, he laughed, leant forward and helped himself to a skewer of lamb. He then sat back and chewed very openly and deliberately. Liz watched the interaction between the two and, unsure of what to do, offered some of her dish.
“Chicken?” she asked. Stephen just laughed more, and chewed his lamb. Sandra waved the food away silently. She dropped her tandoori on her plate, and wiped her hands on her serviette.
“You’re laughing.”
“I am.” And he continued to do so as he chewed. “Wow, this lamb is incredible.”
“Why are you laughing?”
He may have been laughing, but his eyes were dark. There was no genuine humour here.
“I have a cracking headache”, he said.
“You were threatening us. What did you expect me to do?”
“I expected you to not lie to me and to tell the fucking truth.”
“You opened with a lie, we were following your lead, if anything the lying was your doing.”
He finished chewing, and swallowed. Nobody was laughing now. Most of the restaurant had gone quiet at their argument, but quickly resumed like some kind of muted rhubarb in the background. Stephen had some more wine.
“Sebastian was not my son. You’ve been listening to Richard.”
Sandra said nothing. She was quickly learning it was the fastest way to find out what was going on. Just shut up, let them talk, believe what they say and work out later if it’s the truth.
“Richard was convinced I was having an affair with Andrea. I wasn’t. I was fond of her, I didn’t think he treated her well, but nothing every happened between us. Did he tell you about the car accident?” Sandra nodded. “It didn’t happen the way he tells it.”
“How do you know how he tells it?”
“Because he never heard it from me. He heard it from the police, from the paramedics, but nothing from me. Wouldn’t listen, didn’t want to know me. He already had it in his head that we were having an affair, her dying just focussed his imagination into fact and he refused to see it any other way.”
Liz interrupted.
“When we told you Sebastian had died, you took it really hard.”
He turned to her as if she were an idiot, which was probably how he saw her.
“He was my nephew. How do you expect me to react?”
“Like the way you reacted to Little Richard’s death?”
“Little Richard?” he repeated, appalled at the moniker. He sighed. “I already knew he was dead. Sebastian told me.”
“So you were in contact with Sebastian?”
Stephen sighed, topped up his wine.
“Just shut up and let me talk. We can get through this a whole lot quicker. Eat your chicken.” She did. It was the best chicken she’d ever had.
“After my brother disowned me I was not just heartbroken. I hate to say it but I was also relieved. Andrea dying tore me apart, and I couldn’t bear to see those kids of hers. I knew that I could never convince Richard of the truth. I had my own life to get to, and I did. I set about building my own little empire, which was already doing quite well, and increased my interests. I was doing well, making a life of my own.
“Twelve months later was the first I heard of Richard since the funeral. And it wasn’t a ‘hello’, or a Christmas card or any such thing. It was through an acquisitions company he’d set up three months earlier, and it began aggressively purchasing my interests. They targeted everything I’d built and their aim was to destroy everything, and I don’t mean purchase – I mean destroy. Every company was disbanded, every venture discontinued, it didn’t matter how profitable. He destroyed me.”
“Which is what happened with The Scratching Post.” Sandra said, without retribution.
“The Scratching Post was all I had left. It was my first and last business. I loved that pub. And that bastard took it from me. Turned it into a tacky, trendy, hipster bar that was all about design and expensive drinks.”
“But that was fifteen years ago.”
Stephen smiled before answering.
“Heritage listing can be a real pain in the arse if you want to tear something down. I didn’t have his money, but I knew people. We fought that bastard for fifteen years.”
“What happened? You obviously lost.”
“Yeah, we lost. Two years ago the guy I was working with succumbed to cancer, and that was the end of that. I lost. Though we did manage to keep a number of overlays in place, so he couldn’t tear it own like he wanted. He just wanked all over it instead.”
Liz kept her mouth shut, and craved an overpriced cocktail and a chaise lounge. Stephen continued.
“Anyway, once he came after that pub, I wanted nothing to do with my family. I cut all ties with the family, including my name, which is how I came to become known as Daniel Cameron. I was in a bar, alone, someone introduced themselves to me, and that was they were the first two names I saw. Daniel. Cameron. Word of advice, ladies, if you’re ever in a position to change your name, take your time. Do it properly. Best not to rush these things.”
“Oh I know what you mean”, Liz said. He gave her a ‘shut up’ look, and she obeyed.
“Anyway, I made my own life. That someone from the bar became my wife, I continued to fight whilst we made our family, I got a new career that Richard couldn’t touch, and on we went.”
“You were quoted in the paper as Stephen Pohler”, Sandra said.
“I wanted Richard to know it was me. And I didn’t want him to know my new name. That was about when I gave up. I kept fighting, because I’d been doing it for so long, but my heart wasn’t in it. We had kids, we had a life. It was more important to me. Then, about two years ago, Sebastian walks into my life. He found me the same way you did. Internet records make it impossible to hide yourself if someone really wants to find you.”
“Well”, said Liz, “it’s not exactly that easy. Takes a bit of work.”
“In between lackeying for his father he was trying to find out about his mother since his father never spoke of it. He wanted to know what happened. I told him. He believed me, we stayed in touch. And now, you tell me, he is murdered. Twenty-four hours after his brother. “
He paused for a moment and picked up his wine.
“So, you want to know why I was upset? Because he was my nephew. And I loved him”
He sat back, and drank up. Sandra pondered this. A lot of it made sense. A lot of it fit very easily. Except –
“So what about the phone Stephen?” She asked. “What is on this phone that is so important?”
He smiled. “That wasn’t in the agreement Sandra. You wanted to know about me and Sebastian, I told you. And more. I think I’ve been exceptionally generous actually. I’d like the phone now please. My wife is expecting me.”
Sandra looked at Liz, who shrugged in agreement. Sandra reached into her pocket, and pulled out Sebastian’s phone. She went to hand it over, but paused midway.
“Just tell me one more thing”, she started, but could see the anxious look on Stephen’s face.
“You don’t want to wave that thing around”, he said and reached for it, but his hand was stopped by a waiter.
“You’re absolutely right. You don’t want to go waving that thing around”, he said very calmly.
Sandra, a little baffled, looked up at him.
“Yeah thanks, we’re fine. Actually, could we get, like, a jug of water please? Just tap water, you know? And three glasses.” She smiled. She always made a point of being nice to wait staff. It was a sucky job, and people can be so dismissive even when you do your best. This waiter wasn’t leaving though. And he still had his hand on Stephen’s hand. He smiled.
“Daniel, tell this lovely young lady that I’m not a waiter”, he said.
“This man is not a waiter”, Stephen said, compliant. Sandra looked up at him. He was somewhere in his forties, stern, and she realised how she’d just assumed he was a waiter because of where they were, but he was clearly too well dressed. And held himself with the demeanour of a man far too proud to wait a table.
“Daniel, tell her to pass me Sebastian’s phone without fuss”, he said.
“Do as he says Sandra.”
“Tell her properly please Daniel.”
“Sandra, pass him Sebastian’s phone without fuss.”
She looked at Stephen’s face. It was very, very serious. And, additionally, scared. This was new. This did not bode well. She passed the man the phone. He took it with his free hand, and placed it in his pocket.
“And one more thing, please Daniel. Tell these girls that they are in a heap of trouble, and they should have considered events more carefully before they got involved.”
“Girls – “
“Yeah. Thanks. I heard him.”
The man was not amused at her interruption.
It's getting good. Keep it up!
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