John tried his best to act like he cared what Aunt Gloria was rattling on about, but he didn’t give a jot. She could have been sat there starkers, banging on how she’d won the lottery, and it was unlikely he’d take any notice. There was too much going on and the last thing he needed was for his valuable time to be taken up with this miserable cow.
However, it was part of the bigger picture, so it was something he’d have to swallow – a bit like this over-sugared tea.
Trying not to pull a face, John tipped more of the revolting liquid into his mouth, feeling like smashing the oh-so-pretty floral china teacup into Gloria’s nose. ‘Sorry I haven’t been around, Aunty,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d prefer the time to yourself.’
‘I know you’re busy,’ Gloria said, thinking that although she was glad John hadn’t visited more often, coming only once in the week since Len had died was a trifle lame. The only reason he was here now was because she’d requested he help with the funeral arrangements.
‘How are you feeling now Samantha’s moved back to her own apartment?’ John asked, deciding to use this time digging for snippets of information and planting a few seeds.
Gloria wrung her hands. ‘I’m getting there.’ Her bottom lip trembled. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without her, especially over the first few days, but she needed to get back and get her head around this business with the firm and her unexpected change of career.’
She eyed John closely. ‘I know you expected to be the one taking over, so I hope you’re not too disappointed with Sam’s decision to remain in charge?’
John smiled, silently thinking he deserved an Oscar for his acting ability. ‘All I’m bothered about is making sure Uncle Len’s hard work remains safe. We’re family and I’m doing all I can to help Sam.’
Gloria nodded. ‘Yes, she said you’ve been helpful and I’m glad about that.’ She was surprised, though, she had to admit. She thought John would have had a real issue with the change of plans.
John placed his dainty teacup on the coffee table, happy to get it out of his hands, and looked at Gloria, his expression full of concern. ‘I must admit, it’s unfortunate timing for Sam to be taking over, what with all of these problems this other firm is causing.’
‘I recall Sebastian Stoker mentioning something about that, but Sam’s taking it all in her stride. He’s been helping her too, which is good. It’s not a time for rivalry, especially at the moment,’ Gloria smiled.
John bristled but kept his anger from unravelling. ‘Like I said to Sam, all is not what it seems. My personal feelings are that Stoker has an agenda – several, if truth be known.’
Gloria looked up. Sam hadn’t mentioned this. ‘Anything I should be concerned about?’
‘I believe it’s all in hand,’ John lied. And yes, you, more than most, should be concerned, but I’ll let you work that out. The daft cow hadn’t twigged he knew her hidden secret and he wanted to keep it that way. At least for now. When the time was right, he’d pull it on her with a flourish, but until then… ‘Most of the problems are from within the Stoker family themselves.’
‘Oh!’ Gloria exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Each time I’ve ever met Judith and Malcolm I’ve always been impressed at what a tightly knit family they are. It’s so rare these days.’
John nodded, desperate to laugh. ‘It’s never nice for anyone when rumours are going around saying that one of your children doesn’t belong to you… It’s all rubbish, of course.’
Gloria sat up, startled. ‘What? What does that mean? Oh my gosh, poor Judith! She must be horrified! Why on earth would someone say something like that?’
John shrugged. ‘People love scoring cheap points to cause trouble.’ He looked at Gloria. ‘I don’t even know whether it’s alleged one of them has a different father or that one of them isn’t related at all, but I do know it’s caused big ructions between the boys.’
Seeing Gloria’s fast-paling face, John mentally chalked one up to him. ‘Anyway, that’s their problem. Now, shall we go through the final arrangements for the funeral? I want to make sure it all goes perfectly.’
And everything would go perfectly. It was just a question of how long it would take.
Judith clutched Mal’s hand, her face etched with worry. ‘Please tell me what’s bothering you.’
Mal stared through the large French windows into his garden, disappointment raging. He didn’t want to talk about it because he hadn’t fully processed it himself. His sons being at each other’s throats last night was something he’d never thought he’d ever witness.
‘Mal?’ Judith pressed, her heart racing, unable to remember the last time she’d seen her husband so distraught. Either something else was wrong with his health, or something was wrong with one of her boys. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. Please, no.
She clutched Mal’s hand tighter. It had been horrific enough when she thought she’d lost him the other week, but something else had happened and she had to know what. She just had to.
‘Mal?’ she repeated. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s happened to upset you so much? You must stop getting involved in stressful situations.’
Mal turned his face away further. How could he tell her? Anger pulsed harder and his jaw clenched. What was the matter with him? It wasn’t true, so why had it passed through his mind?
Shame covered him like a shroud, reluctantly admitting that although only for a nanosecond, he had contemplated it being something to question and that was enough to make him feel the worst person ever.
He wanted to kill whoever had started these rumours. And that was something else he’d learnt: Seb had taken care of that side of things too. That was a major risk in itself, but despite his son’s rapid action, it had not been enough to stop the rumour mill. People were still talking and talking enough to make his own sons question the truth.
Judith watched the emotions passing over Mal’s face with ever increasing concern. ‘Either you tell me what’s distressing you, Malcolm, or I’ll get the boys around here for a family meeting.’
Taking a deep breath, Mal turned to his wife. ‘Okay, but you’re not going to like it any more than I do.’ He sighed deeply. ‘When I arrived at the Peacock last night, I found all of our sons about to lay into each other.’
‘What?’ Judith gasped, horrified. ‘They’ve never fought with each other, apart from when they were playfighting as youngsters.’
Mal nodded. ‘This was far from good-natured. Seb and Andrew had already landed blows by the time I got there and…’
‘Oh, Mal, whatever for? They know better than to turn on each other. It’s always been us against the world. Is it serious?’
Mal ran his tongue across his teeth, stalling for time. Judith never asked questions or pried into his business dealings, but where the boys were concerned it was an entirely different kettle of fish.
‘Part of it is ill-feeling over Seb helping the Reynold girl,’ Mal said. ‘They don’t trust her and think she’s setting us up.’
Judith frowned. ‘It’s only right Sebastian helps Samantha. We’re not the type of people not to help out a good man’s family.’
Mal raised his hands. ‘I know that, but it isn’t going down very well.’ It was a bit more complicated than that, but he wasn’t about to tell Judith about the disaster with the Irish that also came to light last night. She’d have a fit about his age-old dealing with them.
Judith’s brow furrowed. ‘Wait! I know what this is all about. You’re doubting Sebastian’s ability to run the firm, aren’t you?’ She snatched her hand away from her husband’s. ‘For God’s sake, Mal. You’ve got to give them chance to settle into their new roles. Sebastian is a born leader and more than capable, but there’s bound to be envy from the other boys. It must be hard for them having their brother as head of the firm whilst they remain in the same position.’
She studied Mal suspiciously. ‘Don’t you dare even think about retracting your retirement.’ Getting up, Judith paced around in agitation. ‘You promised me. Promised. You’ll kill yourself going back to that stress level. Let the boys iron out their differences and I’m sure th…’
‘It’s not just that… Someone’s been spreading rumours. Horrible rumours…’ Mal interrupted. He had to tell her. ‘Someone’s trying to destroy both our and the Reynold firms.’
Judith paused her pacing. ‘You’re not saying Len’s death wasn’t an accident are you? Is that what you’re saying?’ Her hands flew to her mouth once more. ‘Oh my God! Even more reason for us to help the Reynolds. I’ll speak to the boys. They can’t leave that poor girl dealing with this alone. Who started these rumours about it not being an accident?’
‘Actually, myself and Seb both believe Len’s death wasn’t an accident…’ Mal muttered. ‘But the rumours weren’t about that.’
Judith frowned. ‘Then what are you going on about? That Samantha engineered her own father’s death? That’s ridiculous! She loved that man. That reminds me – I must go and see Gloria before the funeral and…’
‘It’s being said one of the boys isn’t ours… Or rather, isn’t mine…’ Mal said quietly.
Judith’s glasses case fell from her hands onto the floor and she stared at her husband in shock. ‘W-what?’
Mal shrugged. ‘I know it’s ridiculous, but…’
‘But the boys are questioning it?’ Judith interjected, sinking onto the armchair, her eyes filling with tears.
Seeing the abject pain on his wife’s face, Mal instantly regretted being honest. He should have kept it from her. He shouldn’t have said anything. ‘Well, I…’
‘And they’re turning on each other because of it?’ Judith whimpered, tears pouring down her face. She looked at Mal, seeing an expression she’d never thought she’d see. ‘You don’t believe it, do you?’
The slight hesitation before Mal’s reply made Judith realise her husband had questioned it. Perhaps not for long, but he’d still questioned it nevertheless and her heart split in two.