News breaking this morning is of the Labour MP and future leader of the party as the polls stand, Tristan Walden the third’s affair with one of his wife’s best friend Rellie Anderson. Details are still unfolding about the affair, but it is supported by video evidence of the two of them kissing in a parking lot. This is The Telegram’s lead story. Stay tuned for more with our panel.
It was a bloodbath. Blythe had gone in with her knife and slashed the Waldens down to the bone. Her report was factual and salacious, a perfect balance of both and the comments section was a bonfire of the nutters.
SLAM! The front door slam shakes the house some, causing Rellie, Jacob, and Tristan to jump whilst Zainab remains cool, as usual. The entire thing was going to unravel, they knew this was coming so she sees no reason to lose what strand of cool they’ve managed to cobble together. They have much bigger fish to fry, a whole whale if the trouble coming at them down the line is anything to go by.
‘What the fuck is she doing here?’ Zachary, one half of a twin burst into the library where they’d been informed their father was, having fought their way through the throng of press that met them at the airport and outside the gates of their home. All four children looking murderously at their father and his friends gathered. At times like these Tristan is reminded how much of Ife is in all four of them.
‘Calm down.’
‘Calm down!’ Astrid, one half of the first set of twins challenges her father. There they were away enjoying a twin tradition of going away together before the holidays, as always their parents had gifted them with tickets on the Venice Simplon, a five night get away from London to Venice gifted to them by their parents as a respite before the onslaught of the holidays, with the family because they always do it big for Christmas and New Year, and going by the all the polls and talk their father is being feted by the leadership of the party to stand as PM which all the polls have him winning come the next general election. And then before you know it, the press is ringing their phones off the hook because the story had broken about their father’s affair. It was too mad to be believable their parents absolutely love each other; head over heels; it must be a lie.
‘Please. It is not what you think it is.’
‘Then what is it dad?’ Zoya asks, trying to maintain a level head. ‘What exactly is going on?’
‘Where’s mum?’ Arthur asks.
‘Yes. Where is mum?’ Zachary echoes his brother.
‘She’s not here.’ Tristan answers their question.
‘Where is she? What did you to her?’
Zoya rolls her eyes at her brother’s dramatics. Granted this is about as dramatic as it gets, but is he really accusing their father of killing their mother? ‘Daddy wouldn’t hurt mummy Zack, please calm down.’
‘We need to talk.’ Tristan says, talk about the understatement of the year.
‘Fucking right we do.’ Astor says.
The three friends give the father and his children some privacy to talk because what they need to talk about is not what they think it is.
‘What’s going on?’ Zoya’s tone is more measured now, always the rational one of the four of them, and often teased as the peacemaker in the family.
‘Please sit down. I have a lot to tell you.’
Zachary does not want to sit down, he wants to know where his mother is, he wants to know why his father’s lover is in this house after everything the papers and the news had to say about their affair. He wants to fight everyone. Zoya looks at her twin brother, communicating with looks what words will not do and he understands. Calm the fuck down please.
Tristan heaved a deep-seated sigh, heavy on his heart are the words he is about to tell his children, words that will alter everything they’ve ever believed about their parents. Their home… about everything. Good God, he is tired, and it isn’t even noon yet.