Chapter 10: James Finds Out
James called my father the next morning at nine.
My father told me about it afterward, word for word, the way he used to recount things when I was a child — carefully, making sure he got it right.
James had called to check in, he said.
Just to see how things were.
My father had let him talk for a few minutes.
Then he said, very quietly, that he'd had a chance to look at the documents properly.
James said that was good.
That he was glad Dad had taken the time.
My father said he'd also spoken to a solicitor.
An independent one.
That morning, by phone.
He'd already made an appointment for the following week.
James went quiet.
Then he said, "Who put you up to this?"
My father said, "Nobody put me up to anything.
I read what I signed."
"Dad.
This is exactly what I was worried about.
She's gotten into your head."
"Your sister has said very little to me," my father said.
"Mostly I've been thinking."
"You don't understand how these documents work.
It's more complicated than it looks.
Pell explained it all to us — "
"Daniel Pell worked with you for four years," my father said.
"You didn't mention that."
Silence.
"It wasn't relevant," James said.
"It was relevant to me."
"Dad — "
"You told me your sister agreed to the arrangement.
That you'd spoken to her."
"We had spoken.
She knew — "
"She didn't know anything about it," my father said.
"I asked her directly.
She was never consulted."
"She's lying to you."
"James." My father's voice, as he described it to me, had gone very flat.
Not angry.
Flat.
"I have known your sister for forty-three years.
I have known you for forty-six.
I know when I'm being lied to.
I just don't always want to see it."
James said nothing.
"The solicitor appointment is next Thursday," my father said.
"Your mother and I will be going alone.
Afterward, we'll be in touch."
"You're making a mistake," James said.
"You're letting her manipulate you and you don't even see it."
"Come to the house on Friday," my father said.
"We'll talk then.
All of us."
He hung up before James could answer.
When my father told me this, we were sitting in his garden.
It was a cold morning.
He had his hands around a mug of tea and he was looking at the hedge that needed trimming.
"How did it feel?" I said.
"Saying it."
"Awful," he said.
"He's still my son."
"I know."
"But I kept thinking about that clause.
The way it was written.
The date it was added." He shook his head.
"Eight weeks ago.
We'd been going to that office for months.
And eight weeks ago, something changed."
"What happened eight weeks ago?"
My father looked at me.
"I had a health scare.
Nothing serious, as it turned out.
But for about a week, we didn't know that.
James was very attentive.
Very present." He paused.
"I thought he was worried about me."
I didn't say anything.
"He saw an opening," my father said quietly.
"And he used it."
The garden was very still.
A bird moved in the hedge.
"Friday," I said.
"When he comes.
What are you going to say to him?"
"I'm going to give him the chance to explain himself," my father said.
"And then I'm going to listen very carefully to what he chooses to say."
He took a sip of his tea.
May you like
"I've been a fool," he said.
"But I'm not going to be one twice."
