Date: Sat, 26 Dec 2015 15:31:16 +0000 From: Clive Westwood Subject: Life's Illusions - 10 years on - Chapter 16 Relationships Please remember to donate to Nifty, it gives so much to all of us. Any amount, large or small, is welcome in order to keep this free site available. Thank you, donations to the address below. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Life's Illusions - 10 years on - Chapter 16 June 1st, six months since he became Chairman and Ramon was on hand in Cornwall to welcome guests to the first open site, around the country the other sites would all be open within the following two weeks. He'd deliberately overspent on landscaping, insisting on much more robust planting, compensation for the earlier than anticipated opening, which would rob the original planting scheme of precious warm summer months to grow into what was needed, but then, spending an extra half million GBP on landscaping was of no concern when weighed against several million GBP of extra revenue. Every aspect of the parks had been meticulously scrutinised and tested by Ramon or Raul , they were like ghosts, appearing and disappearing everywhere. The staff had been in training for weeks before the mock opening. Two weeks earlier every family member and a large portion of Woodruff staff had been pressed into service, they'd had to suffer a weekend of luxury, testing every aspect of the parks, which, not withstanding a few teething problems, had passed with flying colours. Ramon's inspired advertising campaign had resulted in an average 96 percent bookings/occupancy for the first year forecast, an unprecedented achievement. The press, both local and national had been enthusiastic in their reporting. The best headline in a two page spread of a national newspaper being : ...................Holiday Parks Forced To Up Their Game............... ...........................Woodruff Offers Genuine Luxury..................... .............................At The Same Price As Squalor...................... .............................................Your Choice !!................................. By August Ramon had plans ready for a further three parks to open the following March in the UK but by far his most ambitious plan was for six parks throughout France, three of them being situated along the coastline of the French Riviera in Southern France where Montclair was located. Aly did as he'd said he would, returning to Afghanistan to submit his exit papers, two weeks later he left the country, never to return. Stevie's body had been flown home to the town in Southern England where he grew up. Stevie had always said it would never be his choice to live there again, it had held little for him in the way of childhood memories, France and Italy had been the countries he would have chosen to live out his days had fate not robbed him of his wish, which was what finally tipped the scales for Aly in deciding where to settle Stevie's ashes. Aly arrived in Montclair at the end of February exhausted from traveling, dressed in his full uniform which he'd worn for the flight home as honour guard for Stevie's body, the funeral and to collect Stevie's ashes. As his train pulled into Montclair station he'd been sound asleep. Discovered by the Guard doing his routine inspection before the train made its return, he was a little disoriented, the Guard handed Aly over to the Station Master who, in reverence to anyone in uniform, promptly ushered him into his own quiet parlour questioning where Aly was headed, on hearing that Aly intended to walk to his destination, which was Chateau Montclair, he provided the smartly dressed soldier with a cold beer and bade him rest whilst his onward journey was worked out. Although the lands of Chateau Montclair completely surrounded the town of Montclair, the Chateau itself was a good five miles or more outside of the town and the Guard could see Aly was exhausted, in no fit state to walk the distance needed. Woody and Jacqueline were having lunch with Jaque and Pete when their housekeeper interrupted them to tell Woody there was a soldier by the name of Alejandro at the railway station who seemed exhausted and disoriented, he was being looked after by the Station Master. Woody and Jacqueline were out of the house in minutes heading for the railway station. Pulling up in the car park they were met by the Station Master. "I hope I did the right thing Monsieur Thorn, he's really tired, I couldn't let him walk, I doubt he would have been able to make the journey". Woody could have hugged the man for looking after Aly. "You did splendidly, he is my most precious childhood friend, I owe you a great debt for your kindness". The Station Master shrugged off any further praise, as usual, just being able to perform a service for the 'Montclair's' was reward enough. In the days that followed Aly did little other than relax in the gardens of Montclair. Recounting his journey from Afghanistan, Woody realised why Ali had been exhausted when he arrived in Montclair. He'd left Afghanistan on a military carrier accompanying Stevie's coffin, arriving many hours later in Germany, from there he'd transferred to a second military flight into RAF Lyneham, just outside the town of Wootton Bassett, Wiltshire, England. He described the ride from the RAF Base through the town of Wootton Bassett to the Undertakers Chapel of Rest. As they'd approached the town, all traffic pulled over and drivers along the route got out of their vehicles, the hearse slowed to walking pace on the outskirts of the town, one of the funeral directors got out to walk in front of the hearse through the town, every person on the pavements stopped and bowed their heads as the hearse passed by, he'd admitted it brought tears to his eyes to see Stevie honoured in this way. Once he knew Stevie was safely settled in The Chapel of Rest he'd registered at a forces accommodation whilst he arranged for Stevie's funeral, that had been his only full nights sleep. The following morning, all alone, he'd said goodbye to Stevie's earthly body in a simple service before he was cremated. Stevie's ashes were returned to him later the following day and Aly saw no reason to linger in England, he'd booked his seat on the Eurostar Service taking the last train of the day from Kent, England, through the Channel Tunnel into France, transferring to a French train for the journey to Montclair. In all he had traveled for more than seven days and only slept one night. He'd made two trips up the winding path from Chateau Montclair to the family burial plot, in its centre was a tall stone cross of about twenty feet, around it were dotted graves dating back as far as the sixteen hundreds. For most of the day the plot sat in the shade of a mighty oak tree, it's swaying branches giving splashes of dappled light to the headstones of its slumbering inhabitants. Beneath the oak tree was a stone bench and before the bench a burial plot framed many hundreds of years earlier but still unused. In talking to Jacqueline and Jaque he'd been surprised it was unused because the plot was regarded as the prime position, asking why it hadn't been used Jaques reply had shaken both him and Woody who was listening intently. "I think it's been waiting for Stevie, it's written in documents dating back as far as the sixteen hundreds that the plot will one day be the final resting place of a great warrior, one who gave his life for the greater good of all, from your description I see that as meaning Stevie, why else would fate bring you here with his remains?". Stevie's internment was held on a Sunday in August, most of the family arrived on the previous day. Aly carried Stevie's ashes in their casket up the winding path to the site, there he was shocked to find not only family but almost the entire population of Montclair and twenty of Stevie's Officers and fellow soldiers flown in by Woody. A headstone was already in place, it read, Major Steven James Oliver VC, 1982 - 2014, Soulmate of Alejandro, killed in Afghanistan, fighting terrorism, defending freedom for all. In the bottom corner was another smaller inscription which read, Sleep well Stevie my love, until the day we meet again, a piece of my heart rests with you........Aly. The service was beautifully performed by the local Priest, hymns were sung by both church and school choirs before Aly placed Stevie's casket into the grave and covered it with Montclair earth. In the days, weeks and months which followed Ali seemed to gain strength and a will to live again, he started running each evening and under guidance from the local workers enjoyed long days in the vineyards doing any menial tasks available. Although Aly very rarely drank, he took to stopping at the local Inn on his evening run, enjoying a cold soft drink, but mostly he enjoyed the pleasant conversation and company of the aged Innkeeper Emile. Their conversations covered every subject and it seemed Emile could give advice on everything under the sun, knowledge gained listening to the words of his patrons over many years. When Aly suggested serving meals and converting the old orchard at the rear into a beer garden for guests, the stables into accommodations, Emile immediately dismissed the idea, saying he was far too old to be increasing business, that would be a task for whomever followed him. Some evenings Emile would be visibly tired and Aly could be found behind the bar serving patrons up until closing time before undertaking the five mile jog back to Montclair. Aly had been working in the vineyard when a message was relayed that Monsieur Woody wished to see him. Arriving at Montclair Aly found Woody and Jacqueline in Woody's study, their faces told Aly the news was not good. Woody spoke, "I had a call from the Office of the Gendarmerie, there's no easy way to put this, Emile passed away in his sleep last night, the cleaning lady found him this morning when he didn't get up for his breakfast, I'm sorry Bro, I know you two had become good friends". Aly was devastated, but he remembered Emile's advice, 'Stay put for a while boy, Montclair will show you your future, just be patient', he'd been content to do as Emile suggested, but now he felt in flux again. The Inn remained closed after Emile's death, his funeral was organised by Sebastian the towns elderly solicitor who was also a personal friend of Emile. After the service, Aly was walking back to the car with Woody, Jacqueline, Jaque and Pete when they were hailed by Sebastian who was struggling to catch up with them. "I apologise for my approach but I need urgently to speak with you Alejandro, it's about the Inn". Aly was puzzled, "What about the Inn Sebastian?". Sebastian now nodded, "As I thought, he didn't tell you did he?, I asked him if he had, he just fobbed me off, said, 'don't be a fool man, do you think I'd be so foolish with the future of my lovely Inn without being sure it would be looked after and loved the way I've loved it all these years', I realise now he never did answer my question, just like Emile, the old devil". Aly was still puzzled, "I don't understand Sebastian, you're not making any sense, what is it about the Inn?". Sebastian's next statement really threw Aly. "It's yours, he left it to you, he said he was finally confident he'd found the one who would love it like he had all these years, he said you had plans to make it grow, to help it flourish, well it's yours, free and clear, the Inn, and four houses he owned in the village which are currently rented out". Although in a daze, Aly made plans to visit Sebastian's office the following morning. One week after Emile's funeral Ali reopened the Inn, unbeknown to him at the time, it would be his home for the rest of his life. At Montclair it was late evening, Jaque was leaving the Gate Lodge Office which was used to manage the combined Montclair Vineyards, it was a few minutes walk back to the main house, mostly in the dark along the main driveway, until the house lights came into view. Jaque sensed a presence, he couldn't be sure but it was a feeling, he was being watched. As he walked he texted to Woody, 'Urgent, floodlights, I'm on driveway, being followed". Within only seconds the dark driveway became as bright as a summers day, and there before Jaque, a boy, he looked to be around 8 maybe 9 and visibly terrified. Behind the boy was Woody with several estate workers advancing, before him stood Jaque, there was no escape, he dropped down on the ground crying, looking totally beaten. Jaque advanced on him and scooped the crying child up into his strong arms, he was light, too light, his clothing was filling him out, but Jaque could feel that underneath the boy was skin and bone, calling out to Woody he stopped the advance of estate workers. "False alarm Woody, it's just a child". Woody continued alone towards Jaque, the estate workers retreated back to the Winery and their late shift roles. Jaque was concerned now that the child was alone and obviously undernourished, it suggested the child was fending, or at least trying to fend, for himself, and by the feel of his thin body he was not doing too well. The child was sobbing in Jaques arms but he appeared resigned, he wasn't trying to get away, as Woody approached Jaque spoke. "I'm bringing him back to the house, he's far too thin, I have a bad feeling he's been abandoned, I think he's on the verge of giving up". Woody nodded, a child, any child, had Woody's attention, one who was suffering would receive help whether he wanted it or not, it was just his way. As they entered the Chateau through the kitchen door Jacqueline was waiting for them. "What was it, are you both okay?". Woody being first in, Jacqueline couldn't see the child Jaque was carrying. "It's okay Jac, it was sort of a false alarm, it turned out to be a child, looking for food I think because he certainly needs some help, Jaque's bringing him in now, can we get something hot going for him, he looks to be starving". While Jacqueline busied herself heating leftover soup Jaque brought the terrified child into the kitchen. Sitting him at the table he brushed the hair out the boy's eyes, "What's your name boy?". The boy stared at Jaque but didn't respond, "Do you understand English?". Still no response "Your Momma, Poppa, are they here?". Still no response, Woody winked at the others indicating he had a hunch of how to test the boy. "Either the child is stupid Jaque or he doesn't speak English, he was probably looking for something to steal when you found him". That brought an angry, loud, shouted response which had all of them grinning. "I am not stupid, I speak perfectly good English, now let me go, I'm sorry, I was only looking for food you'd thrown out in the bins, I don't steal". As Woody had gained the response he took over. "It's okay boy, I'm sorry too, I didn't mean what I said, I just wanted to get you to speak so that we can try to help you, but first Jacqueline is heating up some soup for you, eat first then we'll talk, take your time, there's plenty if you want more". With the soup in front of him the boy attacked it, ripping bread into chunks and dropping it into the bowl to soak up the soup before devouring it, Jacqueline refilled the bowl several times before the boy eased off and finally laid down his spoon. He touched Jacqueline's hand as she gathered the dish, "Thank you, I really was hungry, thank you". Jacqueline smiled, "if you let us, we will try to help you, that's all we want to do". Jaque picked him up from the seat at the table and was rewarded with a big burp, he smiled and the boy giggled, "Now little one, I'll tell you what's going to happen, first we talk, that means you have to answer, preferably without shouting, then you get a hot bath and a nights sleep in a warm bed, in the morning we'll decide what to do with you". Carrying the boy into the parlour lounge they all sat, the boy still on Jaques lap, in fact he was hanging onto Jaque tightly. "No one will hurt you, we only want to help, so first, what is your name?". The boy looked torn, should he tell them or not, he decided yes, they'd been kind, "Jetmir Jashari, it means 'good life', my Poppa said I always should live by my name". Jaque hugged him, "Well Jetmir, I agree with your Poppa but tell me why you're alone?". It was a bad question to ask, tears started pouring, he sobbed, but despite sounding broken he answered. "They left me, I woke up and they'd gone, I don't know what to do now". He was shaking with sobs, Jaque hugged him tight. "Hey calm down little man, you're safe here, there's plenty to eat, and a warm bed, for now you're okay, so let's figure out the rest of it okay?". He calmed a little but the tears still flowed as he nodded his head. "So who left you, was it your parents?". Yet again an angry reply bellowed out of the boy. "My Momma and Poppa are dead, they couldn't help leaving me, they didn't want to, they loved me, it was the others, they promised Poppa they'd look after me, he gave them all of our money before he died, they're thieves, no better than filthy animals, I hate them". The deep sobbing started again as he buried his head into Jaques chest and Jaque hugged him tight, but he realised they needed more answers. "Jetmir, do you know where you are from, where were you born, and what happened to your parents?". The sobbing had stopped, but there was no answer, Jaque was about to ask the question again when Jacqueline shushed him, putting her finger to her lips, looking down Jaque could see the boy was fast asleep. "So much for the hot bath, I think he deserves to rest, everything else can wait, I'll take him up and he can stay with me tonight, that way if he wakes up, he won't be frightened". As Jaque carried his sleeping bundle from the room, he turned to them. "I don't know what Pete will say when he gets back tomorrow, I don't want to let go now, I want to look after him, raise him, he deserves so much better than the lousy life I think he's been living". As Jaque disappeared upstairs, Woody and Jacqueline were left speechless, until Jacqueline spoke. "I never thought I'd see Jaque so passionate about anything, we have to support him Woody, please". Woody looked at his wife and there was, not reproval, more disappointment in his reply. "Jacqueline Montclair-Thorn, firstly, you don't ever ask for my approval, it is a given that I will support you in everything you do, secondly, you should already know I would support Jaque on any subject, but where a child is concerned I will be front and centre, if Jaque is serious then we should start pulling in favours, we'll talk about it in the morning". Jacqueline realised she'd inadvertently offended him, "I'm sorry Woody, that was a really poor choice of words nothing more, forgive me". Woody wrapped her in his arms, "There is nothing to forgive, though I could pretend hurt and extract a punishment". Jacqueline was giggling, "And what punishment did you have in mind sir?". Woody was wiggling his eyebrows, "Oh well, come upstairs and all will be revealed, literally". Jaque opened his eyes and realised the boy was awake and staring at him. "Well, good morning little one, did you sleep well, I put you in my bed because I didn't want you to be frightened if you woke in the night and didn't know where you were, I hope you're not angry with me". The boy stretched and smiled. "This is the first bed I've slept in for a really long time, it's so soft and warm, it makes me feel safe, but I know I can't stay here, I'm just being soft and stupid like that woman said". Jaque propped himself up on one elbow, "Ah yes, the conversation we didn't finish last night when you started snoring loudly". The boy looked upset. "I'm sorry, I was so tired and the food was so good I couldn't help it, I didn't mean to be rude". Jaque was smiling now. "I'm teasing, you didn't snore, you just closed your eyes, now let's get you bathed and then we'll have some breakfast and perhaps you can tell us some more about where you're from and what happened to you". Jacqueline had sorted out some of Paul's clothes, he was younger than Jetmir but the clothes fitted, mainly because the boy was badly undernourished. At breakfast he had been a little subdued at first until Roslyn and Paul appeared, they'd taken to him immediately, piled food onto his plate and generally rattled their way through breakfast bidding him goodbye as they left for school and telling him they'd see him later. Leading the boy back into the small lounge Jaque had sat down with Woody and Jacqueline when the boy climbed onto his lap. Jaque hugged him. "Now let's get back to that conversation, where were you born, how old are you and what happened to your parents?". The sadness returned to the boys face but he gave them a pretty good explanation of his life to date, he was 10 years old in just over a month, his parents had been farmers, they worked a farm in Albania where he was born, he remembered really happy times before his Momma got sick. Several times he'd had to stop as the tears began to flow again but when he'd composed himself he went on. He remembered vague memories of men coming and telling them to leave the farm and his Poppa packing as much as they could carry in their old truck, he thought that was about six or seven months earlier because it was winter and just after Christmas. His Poppa had told him they were going to go somewhere warm where his Momma would get better and they could start again but as they'd traveled his Momma got worse. They'd slept in their truck to save money, one morning his Momma wouldn't wake up, he hadn't know until later, she had died in the night, he sobbed as he'd told them he hadn't said goodbye, she was just gone and he missed her. The police had taken his Momma away and after several days told his Poppa she was being buried in the local churchyard. He'd gone with his Poppa to the churchyard and waited all day, it had been bitterly cold but late in the afternoon they came, the Priest read some words, he remembered crying. As he told them, "My Momma loved me, I loved her, but I hadn't said goodbye, they wouldn't let me, they just shooed us out of the churchyard, we had to leave Momma behind". No one said anything, but tears were running down all of their faces as they listened. He carried on, telling of their onward journey, sobbing again as he remembered his Poppa had cried that day, he'd never seen his Poppa like that before, he'd been so sad and he'd been coughing like his Momma had, more and more. They'd left that town and kept driving, his Poppa had told him they were in France and things would get better the further they went, it would get warmer he'd said, much warmer. The truck broke, they didn't have enough money to fix it and his Poppa couldn't get work, he remembered people were cruel they'd said his Poppa was sick, not worth paying, his Poppa had been so sad, he hadn't laughed any more and he was coughing so much. They'd set out walking with what they could carry, just clothes and some of his Mommas things, slept wherever they could, sometimes with other people in camps, they'd shared meals. They'd met up with a family in one of the camps, they'd walked with them for several days. His Poppa had pulled him away from the others one night, counted out all of their money and told him to hide half of it in his shoes, he'd put the rest back in his pocket, he'd told him he loved him dearly, but if anything happened to him, he was to go with the other family, they'd promised his Poppa they'd look after him. He'd told his Poppa he didn't want to go with them, he wanted to stay with his Poppa, but his Poppa had said he was sick, he might have no choice, God might take him to be with Momma, he remembered crying so much, the other family weren't nice, the woman had been really nasty to them. The next morning his Poppa wouldn't wake up and the other family were gone, he'd felt in his Poppa's pockets, all of their money was gone, they'd robbed his Poppa and left, he'd been all alone and so frightened. He'd hidden for hours then watched as the police took his fathers body away. He'd hidden in the local churchyard for days thinking they would do as they had for his Momma and finally they turned up one day, he'd seen the crate, it had his Poppa's name on it and some numbers, he'd watched as they buried it then after they'd gone he lay next to his Poppa all night. He'd left the next day, carrying as much as he could, the rest he'd hidden in an old grave at the back of the churchyard. That had been weeks ago, since then he'd spent his days looking for food, some days he'd been lucky, other days he'd not, he hadn't really cared anymore, when Jaque had found him he knew it was over, he didn't know what would happen, he didn't really care, everyone who loved him was gone, nothing mattered anymore. Jacqueline held out her arms and the boy slid off Jaques lap and into Jacqueline's embrace. "I'm so sorry Jetmir, sorry all those things happened to you, it's not fair, I'm sorry your Momma and Poppa died, but I believe there is a reason why you were in our garden last night, why my brother Jaque found you, I think god or fate want to give something back to you, make up for some of what it has taken from you, and I think we are a big part of that, will you trust us?, we'll do all we can to keep you here, if that's what you want, you have to decide that, it has to be your decision, now let me have a hug". As Jacqueline released him he instinctively turned back to Jaque, climbing into his lap and snuggling close. Looking up into Jaques eyes he said, "Could I please stay here, I'll be a good boy, Poppa said I was a good son, I can work, I'll earn my keep, I promise". Jaque smiled. "For now you will stay and I'll do my best to make it happen on a permanent basis, I don't want to lie and promise something I may not be able to deliver but I will do all I can". Woody watched, he saw the child sigh, he watched as hope faded away from the boy, his expression returned to despair. Woody clapped his hands. "Wrong answer Jaque, now shall we try that one again, on a more positive note". Jaque looked at Woody who was nodding, he realised Woody was telling him he was with him on this, that meant it would happen, one way or another, it would happen. "I'm sorry Jetmir, what I meant to say was yes, you will stay, but the work will be schoolwork and you will earn your keep by being the best person you can possibly be, the person your Momma and Poppa would be proud of, okay?". Hope was back in the boys eyes, he was beaming and hugging Jaque. Later that morning Woody made a series of telephone calls, ensuring at Montclair for lunch that day were the local Magistrate, the Mayor, the Head of Child Services and the Bishop. Woody had decided to be less than honest, in fact he intended to be downright devious, in order to allow these good people to do the proper thing and put right a grave slur against The House of Montclair. The fact no slur existed was neither here nor there, it only needed to be perceived to create a need for the townsfolk of Montclair to feel an overwhelming need to pressure certain high profile figures to ensure that they put matters right. Woody had visited the bakery in town that morning, chatting with his friends the owner and his wife, his off the cuff comments had set up a chain reaction, by midday the topic of conversation throughout the town was the slur rained on the Montclair's, everyone was incensed, how could this happen, The Montclair's were above such things, someone's head should roll for this, and someone needed to put it right, The Montclair's were almost saints, how could anyone do this. He coached Jaque, Jetmir and Jacqueline prior to lunch on following his lead, to Jetmir he said, "When I look at you and open my eyes wide, I want tears, buckets of them, got it?". Luncheon began in a somber mood, every guest had heard of the slur, each was shocked, but none of them knew what the slur was, each thought the other knew, but in truth none of them knew because really, it didn't exist. As they took their seats in the Blue Dinning Salon, (Woody's choice to further throw his guests off balance, this room was normally used when the family was in mourning) the choice of room was not missed by anyone. The Magistrate tried to open the conversation, feigning ignorance and questioning the reason for the luncheon invites, Woody was almost ready to jump up and clap his hands, sounding indignant he replied. "You think there should be an ulterior motive for The Family Montclair to invite you to take luncheon?". The Magistrate almost chocked on the water he was taking a sip from, the other guests were glaring at him, it was clear they thought he had just taken them nearer to the cliff edge not brought them back. Next to try was the Bishop. "I find it a pleasure to share a luncheon with your family Monsieur". Crafty old devil thought Woody, but you ain't been doing this since you were twelve like I have, "An interesting statement Your Excellency, is that because you didn't expect us to invite you for some reason?" The Bishop was the next to almost choke, and the other guests looked ready to batter him. Woody decided as they'd had the first course, it was time to drop the bomb. As the main course was placed in front of their guests and just as they were lifting the first forkful to their mouths, Woody slammed down his cutlery, causing their guests to nearly jump out of their seats. "The dictionary describes a slight, a slur as, 'To treat someone with discourteous reserve or intention', please, enjoy your lunch". Jacqueline, Jaque and even Jetmir were working desperately to control their urge to giggle. Woody decided half way through the main course it was time to go in for the kill. "There is no ill feeling from The Montclair's, but I would like to try and understand why, a distant relative, finding himself orphaned, is denied the chance to be part of my family". Woody now looked at Jetmir and opened his eyes wide, unseen by the guests who were suddenly drawn to a wailing child with tears streaming down his cheeks. Woody would later admit, Jetmir overdid it by a lot more than just a little. The Magistrate immediately dispensed with all game play. "I don't understand, what is it you need Monsieur?". And there it was, the opening Woody needed. "My brother in law and Brother wish to adopt our poor orphaned cousin and give him the life his dearly departed parents would have had him live had the Lord not seen fit to take them so early from this life". It took only a few quick looks and nods before the Magistrate answered, admittedly he almost had to shout to be heard above the wailing, overacting Jetmir, that is until Woody kicked him in the shin and his wail turned first to a scream then died instantly as the Magistrate shouted. "That is acceptable, put the paperwork before me tomorrow, I will have it approved". Woody smiled, and they knew, every one of them knew, they'd just been had, but what to do, if they left this house with The Montclair's unhappy the townsfolk would probably burn them all at the stake, and in this town, that was not a joke. So all was well, no, that was just another of life's illusions. Pete arrived home to what he considered a strange welcome. Traveling from New York he'd stopped off in Paris, once his business was concluded he'd taken the train to Montclair, at the railway station in Montclair he noticed strange looks, grins and nods of acknowledgement from the locals, the Station Master tipped his cap and offered congratulations, as he drove through the town people waved, Pete was puzzled. Arriving home he found Jacqueline in the kitchen and was just about to tell her about the strange behaviour when, a child, a boy, walked into the kitchen, they looked at each other with curiosity, Pete was thinking, 'who's this', Jetmir was thinking, 'who's this', when Jacqueline said. "Jetmir, come and meet Pete, he's Jaques husband, Pete, I'd like you to meet Jetmir". They were staring at each other, until Jetmir nervously broke the ice. "Are you my other new Poppa?". Pete was perplexed, there was something odd, something he didn't understand, his answer was maybe a little gruff, certainly a little loud. "Other Poppa, and who else is your Poppa?". Jetmir, shrank back a little, this man didn't seem to like him, he answered but much quieter, his confidence definitely wavering. "Poppa Jaque, he said Poppa Pete would be coming home today, I thought...., I well..., I'm sorry, I'll go, sorry...". By now tears were running down his cheeks, he backed slowly towards the door as Jacqueline called to him. "Jetmir, wait, don't be upset, Poppa Pete is surprised that's all". But he was already half out of the door, turning he ran. Jacqueline was livid with Pete. "You insensitive, stupid oaf, could you not have shown a little more compassion, you've upset him, he thinks he's not wanted". Pete was equally irritated. "Oh forgive me, how remiss of me, I forgot, in this bloody lunatic asylum, it's common practice to come home after four days away, to find your husband now has a child, one you weren't consulted about, one who appears to know all about you, and yet you know nothing about him, yes, of course, I was being insensitive, stupid, an oaf as you put it, excuse me". Pete had walked out of the kitchen and slammed the door behind him. Totally unaware of the fiasco which had played out in the kitchen Jaque climbed the staircase and immediately heard the sobs, unmistakably Jetmir, he almost ran to the boys bedroom where he found him stuffing his meagre possessions into the worn backpack. "What's the matter son, what happened, why are you packing, please calm down and tell me what's wrong?". Jetmir was still sobbing. "Monsieur Pete hates me, I'll go, thank you, you're a nice man, I would have been proud to be your son, you're a good man". Jaque was completely at a loss, he hugged the boy. "Oh, he's a silly fool at times, but he's a really kind fool, he just needs to meet you properly, wait here I'll go speak to him". Jaque left the room heading for his and Petes suite of rooms on the floor above. Pete was in their lounge, unpacking his briefcase, cursing and throwing papers onto the desk, when the door opened and Jaque walked in. "What the hell did you say to him, he's sobbing and packing his things ready to run away?". Pete snapped. "I apologise, I went away for a few days, I heard nothing from you, nothing to indicate I was supposed to play the dutiful father when I walked back through the door, oh yes, that would be because you didn't bother to tell me about it did you, didn't it occur to you to pick up the telephone and call me, I'm your husband, did you even give me a thought in all of this?, no I don't think you did, so you'll excuse me if I'm also a little upset". Jaque was completely thrown by Petes mood, he'd expected surprise, shock even, but not this angry, petty attitude. "Is that what this is about, because I didn't call you, I would have if I hadn't been busy trying to understand the awful ordeal this child had been through, meanwhile you're acting like a prick, not like the caring man I married". Now Pete was absolutely fuming. "Well maybe you married the wrong man". Jaque was also fuming. "Yes, right now I think perhaps I did". Pete knew this argument was getting completely out of control but he was now furious. "That's easily corrected, you go play Daddy, I'll pack and leave". At that Pete stalked into his dressing room and slammed the door, cutting off any further conversation. Pete leaned back against the slammed door and groaned, what the hell had he just done, how on earth had he let it get so out of hand, he'd just told Jaque he was leaving, as if he wanted to, that was stupid, nothing was further from the truth, he needed to tell Jaque he was sorry and he needed to do it now. Jaque was also shocked, how on earth had they got to this point, he didn't know what to do, he knew Pete needed space to calm down so he went back downstairs to Jetmir's room, but it was empty, he'd gone. Jaque was in a panic, searching the room he realised the boy had packed only what he brought into the house, but he was definitely missing. Pete came down the stairs at the same time Jaque exited the boy's bedroom, they met on the landing, Pete, ignorant of the fact that the boy had gone started to apologise to Jaque. "Can we try to put this into perspective, what I said was stupid, it was said in anger...............". Pete didn't get any further as Jaque rounded on him, tears in his eyes, eyes which were flashing with anger. "You want perspective, well right now a little boy who'd already suffered incredible heartache from finding his beloved mother dead, then woke up one morning next to his dead father, he dealt with the fact they'd been robbed by heartless thieves while his father lay dying, picked himself up and carried on, trying to feed himself, and now he's out there again fending for himself, and why is this?, it's because you acted like a prissy little princess, all upset because you weren't kept in the loop, get out of my way, get out of my house and get out of my life, this boy needs me, you don't". Pete was left stunned as Jaque stormed off down the staircase. In the lounge Jacqueline was being comforted by Woody when Pete entered carrying two large bags. "I'm sorry Jacqueline, you were right, I acted stupidly". Woody looked at the bags, "You're going away again now?, Pete we need you here, can't you postpone?". Pete looked at his younger brother with tears in his eyes. "I'm not going on business, I'm leaving, Jaque threw me out, told me to get out of his life and his house, he married the wrong man, I'll ask Aly if I can stay at the inn temporarily while I sort something". At that with Woody staring dumbfounded at him, he walked out of the door. Jaque had searched the grounds of Montclair but there had been no sign of Jetmir, he'd vanished. As Jaque walked back into the lounge he found Woody and Jacqueline waiting for him and it was Jacqueline who launched into him. "You idiot, you always were stupid, but even I didn't think you would throw away the love of the one person who would lay down his life for you, and what makes you think you have the right to throw family out of this house, you don't". At that Jacqueline stormed out of the room, slamming the door as she left. Jaque was stunned but looking at Woody he could see he was getting no sympathy from him. "Do you want to explain what I did to deserve that outburst from my sister?". Woody could have done exactly the same as Jacqueline and scathed at him but he didn't. "I remember just before our wedding my Momma said something which I've remembered but until now didn't make as much sense, she said, love your children, protect your children, but don't forget your partner, because one day your children will move on to live their own lives, but you two, God willing, will be together for ever, you just messed that one up big style, Pete has gone, he said you threw him out". Jaque dropped down into an armchair, he knew he'd messed up 'big style', as Woody put it. "You're both right, I was a fool, an angry fool but right now I have to find the boy, if Pete loves me, we'll be able to put this right later". Driving into town Pete remembered the time when Pauly vanished, how he'd felt, the sadness, it was back, that awful, painful, sense of loss, like there was a great hole in his life, one that no one else could fill, he'd lost Jaque and it was all his own fault. As he passed by the churchyard he saw something, it couldn't be, could it?, he pulled his car to the side of the road and grabbed a torch from the glovebox. Trying not to make any sound he snuck into the churchyard, slipping quietly from gravestone to gravestone until he saw what he was looking for, a boy, kneeling beside a fresh grave, no headstone, just mounded earth. He heard a voice, young, between sobs, "I'm here Poppa, I want to come with you, I can't do this on my own, I want to be with you and Momma". Pete's heart almost broke hearing the sad words from the boy, he sounded out of hope, no wish to carry on, he wanted to die. Pete inched slowly forward until he was near enough to grab the boy. Jetmir screamed. "Get off me, I didn't do anything, I just want to sleep by my Poppa", he was sobbing, "Poppa and Momma loved me, I want to be with them". Pete pulled the sobbing boy into a hug, "Hush Son, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Poppa Pete". Jetmir looked up but he couldn't see Pete's face against the beam of the torch. "You hated me, I heard you shouting at Poppa Jaque, he's a good man, I didn't want to make him unhappy, I want to go to my own Momma and Poppa they loved me, why couldn't I just go with them, it's not fair, I've tried to be good like Poppa said, but everyone's nasty to me, I don't want to struggle any more". Pete felt so stupid. "I'm sorry JJ", he hugged the boy closer, "You will have a good life with Jaque, he is a good man, he'll love and protect you, don't deny him that chance, you're Momma and Poppa would look down and see you grow in a safe home being loved as a son they can be proud of, you have to go back, please, will you do that for me?". Pete looked down and saw the boy was asleep, lifting him and grabbing the rucksack he'd laid besides him, he trudged back to his car. Pulling up to the gates of Montclair he was waved through by the security guards, he dialled Woody's number. "Bro, I'm out front with a beautiful little boy, tell Jaque I was a fool and I love him, come get him Bro he's out cold but I've made sure he knows Jaque loves him". Woody was trying to think. "What about you and Jaque?". Pete wanted to answer it was all alright, but what he said didn't give Woody any hope. "I don't think that can survive, but I need to know this boy will survive, he's a wonderful boy, he's taught me a lot and he doesn't even know what he's done, come get him Woody and remember to tell Jaque I love him, whatever he thinks of me". Next morning a groggy Jaque opened his eyes and his first sight was Jetmir, fast asleep in the bed next to him, right where Woody had placed him last night. Grabbing him into a hug woke the boy. "Oh thank god I was so worried, how did you get back here?". Jetmir snuggled closer to Jaque. "Poppa Pete found me in the churchyard at Poppa's grave, he called me JJ, I like that name, he told me what a good man you are, he said you'd love and protect me, I went to sleep on his lap, when I woke up later I was here next to you so I went back to sleep". Jaque felt elated that Jetmir was back safe but he was secretly hoping Pete had stayed too. "Did Poppa Pete stay as well?". Jetmir could see the sadness in Jaques eyes. "I don't know, I was asleep, but he must have brought me here, there was no one else around". Jaque later heard from Woody what Pete had said about loving him and he realised how much of a loss he felt, with Pete gone he would never quite feel whole again, there would always be part of him missing. TBC ARB Allan Comments are welcome to cfgw2000@aol.com. Thank you for giving me your time, enjoy.