Chapter 7: The Brother Arrives
Daniel was not what I expected.
I had built him into something in my mind overnight — sitting in the chair beside Thomas's bed, listening to Thomas sleep, I had constructed a version of Daniel that was cold and deliberate and certain of himself.
The man who walked into the room at half past nine the next morning was none of those things.
He was tall, like Thomas, with the same silver hair, but where Thomas carried his age with a kind of settled ease, Daniel looked like a man who had not slept well in a year.
His coat was expensive.
His eyes were exhausted.
He saw me before he saw Thomas.
He stopped in the doorway.
"You're Eleanor," he said.
"Yes."
Thomas was awake.
He had been awake since seven, and we had talked for two hours about small things — his garden, my grandchildren, a film we had both seen years apart and remembered differently.
The kind of conversation that is really about something else entirely.
"Daniel," Thomas said from the bed.
"Come in."
Daniel came in.
He stood at the foot of the bed and looked at his brother and something moved across his face that he controlled quickly.
"You look terrible," he said.
"You look worse," Thomas said.
"Sit down."
Daniel sat in the chair on the other side of the bed.
He did not look at me again immediately, but I could feel the effort that cost him.
"How long?" he said to Thomas.
"They're reassessing the transplant list.
The episode last night moved some things." Thomas's voice was matter-of-fact.
"Could be weeks.
Could be longer.
They don't know."
"And she's here," Daniel said.
Not to me.
To Thomas.
"Eleanor is here," Thomas said.
"Yes."
"Tom — "
"Don't." Thomas's voice was quiet but it had an edge I hadn't heard before.
"Whatever you came here to say, Daniel, think carefully before you say it."
Daniel looked at his hands.
Then he looked at me.
"I sent an email," he said.
"To my brother.
Six weeks ago."
"I know," I said.
"I asked questions.
About the estate.
About — arrangements."
"I know that too."
He held my gaze.
His jaw worked for a moment.
"I needed to understand what you wanted," he said.
"After fifty years.
Why now.
Why come back when he's — " He stopped.
"When he's dying," I said.
The word landed in the room and stayed there.
"Yes," Daniel said.
"I didn't know he was ill," I said.
"I came because he asked me to come.
I came because fifty years ago I lost something I never understood and I wanted to understand it before I ran out of time to ask." I kept my voice level.
"I don't want anything from Thomas except the truth.
I already have that now."
Daniel looked at Thomas.
"You told her."
"I told her everything," Thomas said.
"What Father did.
What I did.
All of it."
"Tom, I was seventeen — "
"I know how old you were." Thomas's voice softened.
"Daniel.
I never blamed you.
Not for one day.
You didn't know.
That was never your fault."
Daniel's throat moved.
"I spent a year thinking she was going to come and take something," he said.
"I spent a year building a case in my head — "
"I know," Thomas said.
"I understand why."
"It was easier," Daniel said.
"Than thinking about what was actually done."
"I know that too."
The monitor beeped.
Somewhere down the corridor a trolley rattled past.
Daniel turned to me.
His eyes were red now at the edges, the same way Diane's had been in the car.
"I owe you an apology," he said.
"A real one.
Not — not just for the email.
For all of it.
For what my father did.
For what it cost you." His voice broke slightly on the last word and he pulled it back.
"I built my whole life on something I didn't know was stolen from you."
I looked at this man — seventy-something years old, exhausted, sitting at his brother's hospital bedside, trying to find somewhere to put fifty years of inherited guilt.
"You didn't steal anything," I said.
"You were seventeen.
Your father made a choice.
Thomas made a choice.
You were a boy."
"I benefited."
"Yes.
And you've carried that since you found out.
I can see that." I leaned forward slightly.
"Daniel.
I didn't come here to collect a debt.
There is no debt.
What happened, happened.
I had a good life.
I had a husband I loved and children and grandchildren and a life I am proud of." I paused.
"I came here because there was an unfinished thing and I needed to finish it.
That's all."
The room was very quiet.
Thomas reached out and put his hand over Daniel's on the blanket.
Daniel looked down at their hands.
Then he put his other hand over Thomas's.
May you like
He didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.
