Chapter 9: At the Front Door
Marcus was in the hallway when I got home.
He had not opened the door.
Diane was visible through the frosted glass panel.
She had not left.
"How long has she been there?" I asked.
"Twenty minutes," Marcus said.
"She knocked twice.
I told her through the door that we needed space.
She said she wasn't leaving until we talked."
I took out my phone and opened the voice recorder.
Then I opened the front door.
Diane was dressed as if she had come from somewhere important.
She looked at me, then past me at Marcus.
"I'd like to come in," she said.
"No," I said.
Her expression tightened.
"This is my son's home."
"It's our home," I said.
"And you're not coming in.
If you want to talk, we talk here."
She looked at Marcus again.
He didn't move.
"Fine," she said.
She straightened slightly.
"I want to resolve this.
I think we've all said things we regret, and I think the mature thing is to find a way forward."
"What things do you regret?" I asked.
She blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You said we've all said things we regret.
I'm asking what you regret specifically."
"Claire, I'm not going to stand on a doorstep and—"
"Then I'll start," I said.
"I regret sl\*pping you at the picnic.
I lost my temper and I shouldn't have.
That's mine.
Now it's your turn."
Diane's mouth pressed into a thin line.
"I may have been hasty with some of my concerns about the family," she said.
"The emails to Carol and eleven other family members stating that Evan isn't Marcus's son.
Do you regret those?"
A pause.
"I was acting on information I believed to be—"
"What information?" Marcus said.
His voice was flat.
"What information did you have, Mum?
Tell me specifically."
"I had concerns.
A mother has instincts—"
"You contacted a solicitor," I said.
"You directed them to obtain a DNA test on my son without my knowledge.
Do you regret that?"
The pause this time was longer.
"I was protecting the family's interests."
"Evan is the family," Marcus said.
"He is my son.
He is your grandson.
You sl\*pped him across the face in front of thirty people because he was hungry.
Is that protecting the family?"
Diane looked at him.
Something moved behind her eyes — not remorse, not yet.
Calculation.
"I have a recording," she said.
"Of a conversation between the two of you.
In which Claire states very clearly that she did not want this child."
"Play it," I said.
She hadn't expected that.
"I'm sorry?"
"Play it.
Right now.
I want to hear it."
"This isn't the time or place—"
"You've been holding that recording over my husband's head for six months," I said.
"You used it to keep him quiet while you built a legal case against our home.
So play it.
Let's all hear what I actually said."
Diane's hand moved toward her bag.
Then stopped.
"I didn't bring my phone," she said.
"You're holding it," I said.
I had seen it in her hand when I opened the door.
Her jaw tightened.
"Claire was scared," Marcus said.
"We were both scared.
That's what you recorded.
Two people who were frightened and said things they didn't mean.
You took that and turned it into a weapon."
"I was trying to—"
"You were trying to take our house," I said.
"And when that didn't work immediately, you tried to take our son's identity instead.
You told his family he wasn't one of them.
You told them for two years.
And yesterday you hit him."
Diane stood very still.
"My solicitor will be contacting yours tomorrow," I said.
"About the estate claim.
About the recording.
About the DNA test you commissioned without our consent.
And about the defamatory statements you made to family members regarding Evan's parentage."
The color shifted in her face.
"You wouldn't," she said.
"I already have," I said.
She looked at Marcus one more time.
The look was long and complicated — the look of a woman who had believed, until this moment, that her son would always be the door between her and any real consequence.
"Marcus," she said.
"Are you going to let her do this?"
He looked at her for a moment.
May you like
"Goodbye, Mum," he said.
And he closed the door.
