Day 182
He decided that, for once, he was going to ignore everything he knew about living a good life.
…
At what point do you decide that, having done everything that was asked of you, taken heed of all the advice, and achieved everything possible, your life isn’t a life but an empty shell where a living, vibrant human being should be?
Forty.
It was supposed to be that magical age where everything was supposed to come together. At least, that was what his mother had told him last night at the special dinner held in his honour.
Not just family like he had requested, but over 200 specially selected guests, friends and business connections of his parents, people he knew but didn’t know, people who were an important part of the business network.
And then there was that one comment, some guy he’d never seen before but was what his mother would call a radical, someone who didn’t conform. Blue shirt and green tie. Pale blue suit and tan shoes. A fashion disaster.
He said, quite off-hand, “It’s time for you to go off the rails, forties mate. Fast cars and younger women.” He was with his wife, he was fiftyish, she was about twenty, it wasn’t a good look, and the expression on his mother’s face: priceless.
I shook his hand and moved on.
Forty.
Lying in bed the next morning, the first shard of light showing through the curtains, was it time to reassess where I was in the greater scheme of things?
My hand-picked wife was up and out for her morning run on the specially landscaped path built throughout the extensive gardens that surrounded the manor house.
She had become a clone of my mother. She was descended from royalty, my mother said, but I had my doubts. A few too many drinks and her character changed completely, and under that ice queen exterior, there was a real person.
When I asked her about it, she simply denied it existed and then never drank again.
We had two perfect children. Well, some would say they were perfect, I thought they needed to be allowed to be children, but who listened to me?
Forty.
Life begins at…
It felt like my life was over. I wanted, I craved for a single moment when I was out of my depth, where I was frightened of the consequences of my actions, scared to make a decision because it was the right one, not one that would please my mother.
I sighed.
That was never going to happen.
Eloise came back from her run, and it was the only time I saw her, if I saw her, a mess. I liked the mess, said so once, and she was horrified.
“You do realise that you look great.” I decided today I was going to act out of character.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were asleep.”
“Well, I could be dreaming, and if I am, it’s one of the better ones.”
She smiled. That was something else about her. She rarely smiled. That is to say, smiled so that her whole face lit up.
In that moment, it did, and that girl I saw twenty years ago suddenly came back to life. The one my mother had almost destroyed in her quest to make her a Marron clone.
“You should be up.”
“I don’t want to be up. What I want is you, right here, right now. The girl I first met twenty years ago, the girl before my mother turned her into a robot.”
“That girl is gone, Alec.”
“That girl is standing right in front of me.”
She suddenly looked confused. It was an expression I’d not seen on her face for many years.
I got out of bed, a ridiculously large ocean of self-pity, and all of a sudden, I had no interest in wallowing in it and walked over to her.
The room was as large as a ballroom, and we could have performed a waltz in it.
She watched me warily until I stopped in front of her and took her hands in mine. “My mother has completely taken her away. You peer out every now and then, and it makes my heart miss a beat or two when it does.”
She blinked. Her eyes had tears forming, and then after another blink, a tear escaped, and I watched it slowly run down the side of her face.
“I hate my life,” I said. “I hate everything to do with this place, my work, what it has done to both of us. I want the girl you were, still are, hiding there behind an almost impenetrable facade. Please give her back to me.”
I could see more confusion, and I think she thought this might be a test. In the early days of our relationship, my mother had always been one to look out for signs that she was not doing enough.
In my mind, she was too good for the likes of this family, having seen what my mother had done to my older sister, the one we never mentioned or talked about, and Eloise was almost down that same path.
“I can’t. You know why I can’t. “
At what point do you choose all of what we had against having a life? The money, the luxury, the possessions, the power that came with it? It could be intoxicating, but in truth, it was a curse.
“Is it the money? Power? The notion that you can wear a hundred thousand dollar dress once and never again? Or wear that million-dollar diamond necklace? What do you think you have?”
“Everything I ever wanted.”
“Except freedom.”
She shrugged. “There is always a price to pay. It would be the same anywhere else. With anyone else. Life is simply a series of compromises.”
That was my mother speaking, right there. The facade had reappeared, the stony look returning, the one I saw every morning down in the breakfast room.
I sighed, let her go, and kissed her on her forehead.
“Another day, another million dollars. See you downstairs. We’ve got that Anderson thing this morning.”
She gave me a last wary look. “Are you alright?”
I was not surprised she thought I might be ill. It had been a long time since the last time I acted out of character.
“Sure. Must have something to do with turning forty. I’m sure it’s just a guy thing.”
I don’t think she quite believed me.
Of course, had she been in my office the previous afternoon, just before I was about to go home and change for the big birthday bash my mother had organised for me, Alfred H Ribbentop, the Chief Executive lawyer, came to see me.
The last time I’d seen him was the day he read the family my father’s will, nearly six years ago, after he suffered a heart attack and died.
I wanted to believe my mother killed him. I was still looking for proof. Apparently, he left everything to her and just small annuities to his children, ensuring we remain her slaves.
That was the last thing my father had wanted for us.
Alfred came in and sat in the seat opposite my desk. No one ever sat on that seat, no one except my father, and after he passed, my mother.
I didn’t tell him my mother would be very displeased if she found out.
“I have a letter from your father.”
“A miracle then, since he’s been dead neatly six years.”
“You know that the Lord works in mysterious ways.” He pulled an envelope out of his top pocket and put it on the desk facing me.
It was my father’s handwriting.
“Is it real?”
“Did I forge it? No. I was in the room when he wrote it because there was some stuff I had to organise. Read it.”
I shrugged. What harm could a message from to grave do?
Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper.
“Alec…
“A man is no good until he turns 40. I know, that’s how long it took me to realise I was a nincompoop. You will have been kowtowing to your mother because she thinks she has all the power. The truth is, I didn’t have the time to stop her. But the devil is always in the details that she never asked about or was interested in.
“Well, today that ignorance is going to come back and bite her. As of today, you have 51 per cent of the management company’s shares, which means you are now in total control of what happens. I figured about five years under her thumb would be long enough.
“And you, of all the children, would have been smart enough to plan for something like this. After all, Alfred would have dropped his mysterious hints as he always did with me.
“So, run away with Eloise and take the time to enjoy your life because I didn’t and look what happened to me.”
“Dad.”
I looked over at Alfred, a man who rarely smiled. If it were humanly possible, I would have said he looked amused.
“Is this true?”
“Eldest living son, at age 40. Yes.”
“Does Mother know?”
“Yes. She had her legal people go over every line and tried to break it, and tried to set up a new entity and turn your inheritances into a worthless shell. Your father was three steps ahead of her, even from the grave. She was 100 shares short of doing anything that meddled with the corporate structure. And the beauty of it, no one knew who the anonymous shareholder was, but their proxy always sided with you and your eldest sister’s shares, which were the controlling interest. Your mother alienating her was the biggest mistake of her life.”
“And the mysterious shareholder?”
“It doesn’t matter. You have the controlling interest, so use it wisely. You don’t have to be here. You can proxy someone of your choice to do as you wish. I will ask you to be sensible, as I know you will. Your mother may have been somewhat misguided when it came to people, but she can run the company. She just needs the voice of reason in her ear, just as it was when your father was alive.”
He stood. “Use this information as you wish, but I always find springing subtle surprises are always more fun than just blurting it out.”
With that, he was gone.
I had a lot to think about.
Breakfast, unless we were away from home, was mandatory.
Mother insisted we all be in attendance so she could make sure we were ready and on point for the day to come.
It’s why I liked being away. She could not intimidate us, not directly.
We lived at home along with my two younger brothers. My sister had long escaped the lunatic asylum, as she called it, and I only got to see her when visiting the other side of the country.
I was usually down first, my brother John second, sometimes Eloise, then my other brother Walter and rarely his wife, who wanted to escape but didn’t have the courage to leave.
This morning, when I entered the room, everyone bar Eloise was there, and Mother was presiding like the hanging judge.
When I stepped into the room, all eyes shifted to me.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” Mothers’ tone was one not to be reckoned with.
I leaned against the doorjamb and crossed my arms.
I’d been reading up on body language, and this meant something like being obstinate.
“I’ve decided to take the day off. The thing is, I don’t remember the last time I did.”
The other three looked at each other and then stood. Each said they had somewhere else to be, and mother did not stop them from leaving the room. Perhaps she knew what was coming.
When we were alone, she said, “What’s this about?”
“I think you know.”
“Alfred.”
“I wouldn’t bother worrying about who or what or when. It doesn’t matter. I was always going to be standing here, right at this moment in time, saying what I may or may not say.”
“You think…”
“I don’t care. You see, you think whatever you say or do will right the ship, your ship, but you can’t. Your words might have some impact if I did care, but sadly, I don’t. I did what you asked, and Eloise did as she was asked. And not once did you acknowledge it.”
“You weren’t raised to be a sob story.”
“I’m sure you weren’t raised to be a tyrannical bitch, but here we are.”
She slowly got out of her chair and took the stance that indicated a pitched battle was about to ensue. It was meant to intimidate. Two days ago, it might have.
She put on her ice queen face. I’d once compared my mother to Bodecia in her war chariot, going into battle. She thought it amusing.
“Go back upstairs, change, and be down here ready to go in 30 minutes. We have work to do. We’ll talk about this, whatever this is, later.”
Two days ago, that bollocking would have been enough. Today, it was laughable.
I heard movement behind me, and it had to be Eloise. A moment later, she was behind me, the trademark perfume just reaching out. She must have heard my mother’s raised voice. It got louder
I felt her hand on my shoulder.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Richards is outside the front door waiting for you. I expect you to handle the meetings today and tomorrow as the Chief Executive. I spoke to Larry yesterday, and he’s on board with the changes.”
I could see the red tinges in her cheeks, not the rouge but rage.
“This is ridiculous.”
“This is how it will be. Or you can retire, and I will get someone else to do it. There will be no discussion. What will it be?”
“This isn’t over.”
“No, it isn’t. You have to sign a new contract. As soon as you arrive at the office. Otherwise, I will consider your refusal as your resignation. I would like you to stay on exactly as you are. You simply have a lesser amount of voting shares. Talk to Alfred. He’s got all the details.”
She shook her head and crossed the room. She stopped when she saw Eloise behind me, and I could feel her shrink back.
I could see the hostility on my mother’s face.
“There are many things I could say, but sadly, it would be like water off a duck’s back. But I will say this. Once. If you think this is defiance brought on by what Alfred told me yesterday, you’re wrong. I woke up yesterday morning and simply decided I’d had enough. I was planning to leave this morning, with or without Eloise, and never come back. Yesterday, I hated you, this place, the company, perhaps even the entire world. Today, a lot of that hasn’t changed. I know I wanted my Eloise of old, and I know she’s been very disappointed in me for not defending her right to be herself and that changes now. You will treat her with respect, or you will have me to deal with, and if you think you can be scary, just remember I learned scary from the very best. Now, save the bluster, the anger, and all that nonsense you go on about, and go.”
She took a deep breath as if mentally counting to ten, or working on a perfect retort, and i braced myself for the incoming missiles.
“Very good. Do you want to know when the papers are signed?”
“A brief text will suffice.”
“Agreed. Good morning.”
Lambert, her personal assistant, was hovering just beyond the door, an incredulous expression on her face. I guess it was going to be almost permanent.
I turned, reached out and took Eloise’s hand in mine. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Not being the man you expected me to be.”
“Perhaps i should apologise too.”
“No. You were everything I expected and more.”
“OK. Do we have to stay here? I want my own place.”
“A mansion?”
“God no. Just a small cosy house, big enough for the four of us. I think the kids should be taken out of that horrid school and go to a local high school. I have been looking, you know.”
“I do. And to that end, after breakfast, we’ll be taking a drive to collect David and Elizabeth from that horrid school, and then, house hunting.”
“Like real people?”
“Like real people. Just remember not to wear a fifty-thousand-dollar dress. We don’t want the realtor to think we have a lot of money.”
Well, we were probably going to have to work on that aspect. Getting unused to being rich was going to be a lot harder than the alternative.
…
© Charles Heath 2025
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 