Days 80 and 81 – Writing exercise
…
It was like watching a train wreck happening in real time.
But that was the current state of my older brother Roger’s life, firstborn and heir to the family fortune.
I was the youngest sibling, Sam, last born and heir to nothing but the name, Winterbourne, which in reality counted for very little.
In between four girls was the second son, Edward, and he was the harbinger of everything that was going wrong, and had been for some time.
Why?
Because he honestly believed that he should be the son and heir, not Roger, simply because Edward was more like our father, and Roger was more like our mother.
They looked like brothers, same size, same hair, same build, but that was where the similarities ended. Roger wanted to be an actor, not a lawyer, and Edward followed in fathers footsteps.
Nobody cared what I wanted to do, and simply left me alone.
But, in truth, the issues that started the family express on its way to a certain disaster began when our mother died.
By that time, we were all past school, the girls married, bar one, Roger in the throes of getting married to his prospective wife, Edward drinking, gambling, and womanising as was his so-called birthright, and I was spending time managing the estate.
Everybody was reasonably happy, except father never quite got over the loss of our mother.
That wasn’t so much the catalyst as the revelation that Edward decided he wanted the girl Roger was about to marry.
Of course, if that was the only issue, the train could have stayed on the tracks. It was the fact that she got herself entangled in Edward’s messy life, and Roger found out.
..
Roger was never one for self-assertion. Or defending his position or his possessions, not that he treated Bethany as a possession. He was not like that. Edward was always taking his things and never returning them.
Now he wanted to take his girlfriend.
I had told Roger to propose to Bethany, but he prevaricated. He was like that, as his mother was.
I told him more than once that he who hesitates generally loses, but he had this faith in the fact that things would always work out the way they were supposed to.
God did not work in mysterious ways.
I walked in on the argument that erupted in the drawing room.
Two stags stare each other down.
“So, what’s the difference of opinion now?”
Roger always backed down before it got confrontational, but this time he had the bit between his teeth.
“Tell this useless idiot to back off on Bethany.” Roger always had a problem when angry in speaking his words, stemming from having a bad stutter when he was much younger.
Edward, making fun of it, hadn’t helped.
I looked at Edward. “Are you that low that you’d do that to your brother?”
“She doesn’t like him. She told me so. If it wasn’t for Dad leaving the keys to the castle to him, she wouldn’t waste her time. Not that he could run the place. Dad would be better off leaving it to me.”
And there it was, that was a long-standing argument that held no water with inheritance laws, finally out of the box. He’d been alluding to it for years.
“So, what exactly does that mean, Edward. Is she going to come here and tell him herself because there are matters that need to be resolved?”
I was not sure what the arrangements were, but the match had been forged between families just before mother had died and was to be fulfilled before father died.
It had been an agreeable arrangement between the families and had come to the point where the wedding was announced, and everyone was looking forward to it.
Except…
Bethany walked into the room.
She stopped at the door and looked first at Edward, which elicited a complete change of expression, Roget, probably the angriest I’d ever seen him, which fuelled another change, then to me. “What am I going to tell whom?”
“I can’t cope with any of this. The wedding is off,” Roger was barely able to speak, the angriest I’ve ever seen him, and then stormed out of the room.
Bethany looked at Edward, “What have you done?”
“I told him the truth, and he couldn’t handle it “
“What truth?”
“That you love me, not that simpering idiot.”
There were only fifteen steps between her and Edward, the only person in the room who wasn’t angry. I blinked and almost missed it.
She punched his lights out.
Literally.
Then went after Roger.
I crossed the room to where Edward was lying on the floor, completely out of it. I was sorely tempted to get a bucket of ice water and throw it over him.
Instead, I just shook my head.
Impetuous Edward. Like a great many things that ran around in his head, a lot of it was his imagination. I suspect he mistook her kindness towards him as affection. She most likely said she loved him as a brother-in-law, and he heard what he wanted to hear.
In that moment, I wanted to strangle him.
…
At the bottom of the garden there was a stream, with a rotunda when mother used to sit and read, or towards the of her life, paint.
A lot of her paintings adorned the walls, and the one she did of Zeus, my childhood dog, still hung in my room, a reminder of days long gone.
I wandered down there now, as I did when everything got a little too much, to talk to mother, believing that she was nearby and would hear me.
I was not surprised to see Bethany there, looking very unhappy.
She looked up when I reached the bottom of the steps.
“Sam.”
“You’ve found my hiding spot.”
“It’s very peaceful.”
“Mother’s favourite place. Father built it for her and forbade any of us from coming here, so she had her own refuge from the monsters.”
“Monsters?”
“Us children. There were seven of us, and all with our individual quirks. Some more than others. May I?”
She nodded.
I joined her but sat on the opposite side, a habit formed when my mother said I could join her.
“I had no idea you had such a hefty right hook.”
“Neither did I, but he deserved it.”
That he did. “How are you?” I asked. I think I already knew, the red, teary eyes and woebegone expression.
“Not good. Roger won’t talk to me.”
“The Edward effect, I call it. Edward has always ragged on him, all his life. Edward inherited all of the bad traits from my father’s side of the family, very much like Uncle William, that generation’s black sheep.”
“I did not say those things to Edward. I have no idea how he could think that.”
“Edward hears what he wants to hear and imagines the rest. He’s angry that the inheritance goes to Roger, and I suspect that jealousy has only intensified, given his gambling debts. It isn’t going away any time soon, not unless father does something about it.”
She sighed. “It’s a mess. I have no idea how I’m going to tell my parents. I swear I have not had anything to do with Edward. I have no idea how he could even imagine I would prefer him. He’s a bully, at best.”
That was being kind. Very few of the girls in our sphere would have anything to do with him.
“Well, there has to be a wedding. Everything is arranged. That means something must be done about Edward, and my father is going to have to sort it out. Let me see what I can do. Don’t tell anyone just yet.”
“Are you sure. I’ve never seen Roger this upset.”
“Believe me, this is nothing compared to some of the terrible things Edward has done, to all of us. I think once his father learns of his behaviour, it’ll come to an end.”
…
Of course, there was no guarantee that anything would be done. My father had tended to ignore Edward and hope the problem would go away.
Even so, after talking to Bethany, I decided that I would try to see my father and get him involved. Edward just might sit still long enough to be given an ultimatum, if only to leave Bethany alone.
Roger needed to have time to settle into a relationship that didn’t involve wrestling with his brother and the dissections and enmity that came with it.
Someone had to get the train back on the rails.
At this time of the day, if he was not in the city attending to business, he would be in the study. I was never quite sure what he did in there. Mother told me once that it was where he hid from her and his parenting responsibilities.
I wasn’t going to tell her she’s had almost done the same, leaving it to boarding schools and a bevy of servants and nannies to look after us until we were old enough to make our own way.
When I reached the study doors, McCallister, one of the farmhands, was standing outside. He was one of the nice ones, having taught me to ride a horse and a lot of the work that went into running an estate.
More than once, I said that he should be running the place, but he was always content just to come with me.
“Are you in trouble?”
Dumb question, he was the one who usefully dragged the recalcitrant hands before the master.
“‘Tis Master Edward, sir. I was asked to bring him here. Never thought I’d see the day say Master Roger would hot him, but there it is.”
There it was, indeed.
I knocked on the door, waited until asked, and went in.
Edward was lounging in the chair opposite the desk, not very well. Roger had made his point in no uncertain terms. Roger was standing further to one side, as if the distance between them was a matter of one of the others’ safety.
Edwards kept a wary eye on his brother.
Father was standing behind his desk and looked more forbidding than I’d ever seen him before. If it had been his expectation that the children would be able to sort out their problems between them, he was sadly mistaken.
“If you’ve come to state the obvious, don’t.”
“I was going to say that I’ve spoken to Bethany and she does not harbour any feelings towards Edward, no matter what he may think or say. I’m not going to state the obvious, but this whole affair needs to be resolved now, once and for all.”
“It is.”
There was a finality in those two words that I could literally feel. The air in that room, it was so thick you could metaphorically cut it with a knife.
Edward was silent. He was looking down. There was something about him I’d never seen before
Fear.
Outright fear.
Our father looked at him, the Roger the me. “Edward will be leaving with William. He’ll be going back to South Africa with him. I’ve paid his debts, and there will be no arguments, no whining and no more of this rubbish that has done nothing but sully our good name with our neighbours, our friends, and business partners.
“I am glad your mother isn’t alive today to see what a wretch you are, Edward. We gave you every chance in the world to make something of yourself, and what did you do?”
Another knock on the door.
Uncle William. Alleged black sheep of the family, but I think I got it wrong. He was here to turn the black sheep into a human being.
“Peter, Roger, Sam.” Then his eyes reached the wretch. “Edward.” He shook his head. He looked up at his brother. “I would not be as forgiving, but then you were always the softy.”
He grabbed Edward by the shoulder and dragged him to his feet. “I’ll make a man put of him, either that or put him in a box.” I’d never seen Edward so shaken. “Let’s go.”
“I need to get some stuff, Uncle.”
“Where you’re going, you don’t need stuff, just your wits.”
They left, and the door closed behind them.
My father glared at Roger. “You need to get your head out of your rear end. Go and sort out the mess with your young lady. Go.”
Roget almost ran.
That left me, and a man in a frightfully bad mood, and wondering what it was that I had done wrong. My father was back to being his scariest best.
He almost fell into his chair, exhausted.
“Keep up the good work, Sam. At least someone in this place is interested in keeping it running.”
“Yes, sir.”
He waved his hand in my direction, towards the door. “Be off with you.”
I got as far as opening the door, almost escaping, when he said, “Sam.”
I stopped and slowly turned, waiting for the bollicking. “Find yourself a nice young lady and marry her. Your mother always liked the Princeton girl. What’s her name?”
“Annie.”
“Annie. Im sure I’ve seen her here. She’s not wishy washy like Rogers girl, but he is wishy washy anyway, so they’ll make a good pair. Hmm. Off you go then.”
I went out and closed the door before he thought of something else. He may have appeared to be lost in grief, but he didn’t miss anything.
Or my oldest sister couldn’t keep a secret.
“Sam.”
Annie’s voice came down the passage just as she came into sight. “I hear Roger finally snapped.”
I went down to meet her. “Father’s back. I think our secret romance is no longer a secret.”
She smiled, taking my hand in hers. “It was never a secret, was it, McCallister?”
He was walking past, his guard duty done. “No, miss. Not since you two moved in together in the gamekeeper’s cottage.”
I wanted it to be a secret, but he was right.
“Edward?”
“Leaving with Uncle William.”
“Purgatory then?”
“Reform school.”
“Then the weddings back on?”
“How did you know it was off?”
She looked me up and down, and simply smiled that angelic smile of hers, the one that reminded me of my mother.
Some might say there was light at the end of the tunnel.
Others would say it was an out-of-control freight train heading straight for us.
Me, I’d just simply say the train wreck was averted, and tomorrow, well, that was ready for us to face the next disaster.
…
© Charles Heath 2026
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 