‘Do you see what they are saying about her?’ Zoya has not stopped reading the comment section of the many tabloids in as many days. The talk with their father turned everything on its head for them, it really was not what it seemed, and she wanted to beat up every single person talking shit about her family.
‘Please stop reading that Zoya there is no good to be had from that.’ Astrid tells her sister.
‘How are you not affected by this?’
‘Who says I’m not.’
‘You’re all so calm.’
‘Trust me, we’re not.’ Zachary says squeezing a stress ball. Calm is far from what they are all feeling, and he knows it. They are wavering on the plains of too many emotions, anger at their mother, guilt at the anger. Anger at their father, more guilt at the anger and betrayal from the both of them. Sorrow for them as well. And then more guilt, the guilt was the worst of all because after that talk with their father and their godparents, how could they not feel guilty about everything. It is all so fucked up.
They heard a commotion downstairs and as one all four rush down the stairs to see their father being put on his behind by their uncle, Emerson.
‘Emerson wait! It’s not what you think it is.’
‘Did you cheat on my sister with her best friend?’
‘Let me- SHIT!’
‘Uncle Emerson stop! Please.’ Astrid almost wants to tackle her uncle if only to stop him from dealing another blow to their father. Fuck sake what is this?
‘Are you guys okay?’
Typical, he would inquire about their wellbeing whilst fisting to deal another blow to their father. Uncle Emerson would ride for any one of them, but he does not know the whole truth.
‘We’re fine.’ Zack answers, walking down the rest of the steps. ‘Just don’t hurt our dad.’
‘How can I not hurt him after the way he’s hurt my sister.’ Emerson ever the protective brother, looks set to punch Tristan again, rage that he’d hurt his sister.
‘It’s not what you think it is.’ Tristan uses the moment of distraction to get himself out of Emerson’s grasp. He could go toe to toe with his brother-in-law, but he is also simply protecting his sister so he will allow him this outrage.
‘What exactly is it then Tristan. You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?’
‘Would you please stop using such foul language in front of the children!’
‘Really dad?’ Astrid cannot help the small laugh, a relief in the moment.
Tristan shrugs, ‘would you like something to drink?’
‘Tristan what the fuck is going on?’
The children leave their uncle and father alone to talk, returning upstairs to wallow in the unravelling of their lives.
Two hours later, a more sombre Emerson knocks on the door of the study where all four siblings had ensconced themselves, hiding away from their father, and the world it seems.
‘I am so sorry.’ He reaches for Arthur and Astrid, engulfing them in a hard embrace. He’d always been protective of his sister, was her ally growing up. He was lucky, he was a boy and they grew up in an era when parents had overall diktat on their children’s lives, rebellions was a novelty. Besides, his path was more on his terms, and he toed that line, but Ife was not given that room; as wild as his sister was and she maintained that wild streak, her fights with their mother were legendary. She’d been curtailed and was made to do things she did not want to do or be cut off. She rebelled, but in the end, she gave in; their mother always won in the end. It explains their relationship well enough. He gets it now, even if it still did not excuse what she’d done especially to her children but their mother was not without blame or some fault. And she is not here to take any of that fault or blame so Ife shoulders this alone and she must be in a fit of rage.
‘Have you heard from mum?’ Zachary asks.
‘No, I can’t reach her, I can’t track her phone. She’s just…gone to ground.’ Emerson sighed. All his life he’s always known Ife needed to be able to roam free, she was a fierce creative that got told to march to the beat of her parent’s drum at a time when children did not rebel, even her little rebellions were not enough. She’d been dealt a rough hand in everything, so he gets it, but at the same time, he could not understand why she would do this to her children. How she could keep such things from them. From him. And then there’s Tristian and his own secrets unravelling. His brother-in-law is a man close to the edge and he worries for him. Well now, that’s a swift change of tone from when he came bursting through the door wanting to maul him to death.
‘Zoya stop it.’ Arthur slams the laptop shut. ‘Enough.’
‘But they are just being so mean.’
‘That’s what comment sections are for my dear.’ Emerson comforts his niece; he cannot fathom what they must be going through right now.
‘You bloody fool!’
The five of them are on their feet at the sound of Tristian’s father’s voice thundering through the house, clearly the staff had heard it too because they have an audience. But senior does not care. Let them hear it.
‘The leadership called me about your nonsense.’
‘Dad-’
‘You would throw everything away for this.’
‘Are you mad?’ Tristan squares up to his father, ‘you think there aren’t more important things in life than this?’
‘Yes, there are.’ The old man said, ‘like being a man and facing things head on.’
‘Being a man.’ Tristan knows the meaning behind that phrase as his father uses it. ‘You were always such a cynical bastard.’
‘I raised you, so I know what it is I am talking about. If you quit now, you will never come back from this.’
‘There are more important things in life than politics dad.’
‘Of course, there are, but we are not there yet son! For goodness sake please do not do this.’ The older man s clearly frustrated with his son.
‘Do what?’ Arthur steps in, ‘tell the truth? You want him to continue living this lie?’
‘You told them?’
‘They are my children so yes I did.’
Tristan senior hisses with derision. ‘Have I taught you nothing?’
‘On the contrary you have. You have shown me who I do not want to be.’
‘And who’s that?’
‘You. I don’t want to be anything like you.’
‘And what do you think I am? Mean.’ His tone drips with derision.
‘A bully.’
‘Ha!’ his laugh was full of scorn. ‘I always knew you were pathetic, that you would never amount to anything, hiding behind your mother’s skirts, crying to her about everything. I always knew- ’
‘Get. Out.’ Astrid says, her tone not disguising the coldness.
‘You really need to leave dad.’ Tristan says.
‘And now you have your children to hide behind.’ Tristan senior seizes up his son, face full of bile and regret, and a flash of something more… loss? Pain? ‘I thought I raised a man.’
‘You don’t deserve to call him your son.’ Zachary snarled ‘now for the last time, get out.’
Without another word their grandfather walks out of the house leaving behind his crumbling house of cards. With the door slam he might have just raised the house to the ground.