7. Max
CHAPTER 7
MAX
T echnically, I’d finished work an hour and a half ago but technicalities didn’t matter when you were the solicitor. I had a two-day trial in a week’s time so it was all systems go – a suited version of Batman was how I liked to think of myself at these times. Vic disagreed on the Batman part after I’d declined her suggestion of role play with my underwear on the outside, but she was only too aware of what a big court case involved on the run up to it.
I hated these times when I was away from Vic, Lucy and the boys. I missed them, which made me wonder exactly how my own father had spent so much time away from us when we were little.
Before Marie.
That was a period in our lives – mine, Jackson’s, Claire’s and Callum’s – that we didn’t really talk about anymore. I knew it’d affected us all in different ways; I knew all of us had gone to therapy at one time or another because the impact of having neither parent present when we were so young was profound, especially in terms of our adult relationships.
I’d been reticent to turn what Vic and I had initially into something more, a whole wardrobe of hang-ups about whether I’d become my father – who’d been a terrible husband to our mother, although she’d not been a saint either, and an absent father.
I couldn’t let Vic go though. It wasn’t possible for me to do that, and now she was stuck with me.
I kept decent hours at work, I was home for dinner which I often cooked, picking the kids up from school on certain days, never missing anything they wanted me to attend, including godforsaken birthday parties in soft play centres, although we were a bit past that now, thank fuck.
But the days running up to court were frantic and I couldn’t always get home when I wanted. Vic understood. So did the kids. And it happened rarely now. It was only the big cases I was part of, the smaller ones were delegated, but this was three years in the making and someone had a lot of money at stake.
I was buried in revisiting notes when my office door opened and a man who looked like me in twenty years time stood in the doorway, looking smartly casual.
My pen went down and I looked up, slightly dazed from being so absorbed. “Dad?”
“Vic said you were still here. Everything okay?”
I nodded. “It’s the Marsden case. Court starts a week on Monday.”
“Anything else in your diary next week?”
I shook my head. “I’ve cleared it so I can focus on this. Will has a cricket match on Tuesday and I don’t want to miss it so I’m just trying to get ahead.”
“How ahead are you?”
“You realise this is like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you?” I got out of my chair and straightened the paper files I’d been working through. It was time to call it a day. In another half an hour, my concentration would be shot and I could already feel hunger starting to tear at my stomach.
My father eyed me. “To an extent. You’re not as bad as I ever was. But it’s a Friday, son, and your boys need some coaching on their bowling.”
“You’ve been to mine?”
He nodded. “We dropped our luggage off at the apartment – Marie doesn’t want to stay at the house again. In her head, she’s moved out now. Then we came to yours.”
“I wasn’t expecting you back for another week.” They’d only been gone five nights.
My dad nodded and shrugged. “She’s made her mind up that we’re selling and the agent’s been in touch every day with questions from the buyer, so she decided she wanted to come home and get everything sorted. It was bothering her not being able to do anything, so it was more peaceful for both of us just to come back. We can go back out to Portugal when it’s completed.”
“Bad timing.” I’d hoped they wouldn’t let it disrupt their holiday, but I wasn’t surprised. I knew exactly what Marie was like when she got an idea in her head, which was how she ended up here with all of us nearly four decades ago.
“Exactly. The buyer’s rushing us, really. If it was up to me, I’d tell him to go screw himself but it’s probably better it being done quickly.” He pushed up his shirt sleeves, tanned even though they hadn’t spent long on holiday. “Are you ready to leave?”
I stretched, tipping my head to try and rid a knot that was building there. “Just about. Are you after me for any reason in particular?”
“I need to go through our wills – they’ll need updating because we don’t have the house any more, but we will have a chunk of change which I think we’re going to put in trust for the grandkids. We were wondering about doing something altogether at Christmas too and Marie wanted to talk to you and Vic about that.”
I nodded, switching off my desktop. I would be doing some work this weekend, but I didn’t need to take the files and I was all set up to work from home. “Sounds good. What were you thinking?”
“Potentially Lapland to see Santa, coming home Christmas Eve and having it in Oxford. I don’t think any of you have any plans yet so we wanted to get in early. I know Rose and Eliza don’t believe in Santa anymore but they’re still young enough to enjoy it.” He smiled, clearly enamoured with the idea himself.
“They’ll believe in Santa if you tell them if they don’t, they won’t get any presents.” Which was what I’d done with Eliza last year when she’d wanted to tell Lucy that Father Christmas didn’t exist. Eliza was not unlike her mother at the same age, which was unfortunate for her, because I’d known exactly how to manage Claire.
Although she probably would’ve disagreed.
“I’ll keep that one up my sleeve. I’ll just call Marie and tell her we’re on our way to yours. Vic wants to order a Chinese.” He picked his phone out of his pocket and stepped outside of my office, which once upon a time had been his.
I finished clearing up, liking my desk to be straight when I left it every night. I double checked there was nothing I really did need for the weekend, although I could always come into the office if there was. It wasn’t the end of the world.
Before I left, I dropped Jackson a quick message.
Me: Mum and Dad are back, round at ours for a take-out and discussing trust funds for the kids and a holiday in Lapland before Xmas. Want to make an appearance?
Jackson: Can do. Shall I bring the kids for a sleepover?
Me: May as well. Bring your cricket pads too. Do you and Van want to stay?
Jackson: Will ask the boss.
Which meant yes. We’d figured out a while ago that having cousins together overnight meant they occupied themselves in the morning. It was almost collective parenting, a big family on speed, and it worked for us. Childcare when you both worked was hard, so we’d created a village between us.
I locked my office door, aware that a couple of junior solicitors were still in the building even though they definitely should be out partying. More than likely they were getting changed to go out. London was a perfect place to be on a Friday night when you were young and single and looking for fun.
I remembered it well but I didn’t miss it.
That thought spurred me on to speed up, signing out of the building and meeting my dad outside who was just finishing his call.
“Marie’s just said Jackson’s coming over too.” He looked at me curiously. “Any reason why?”
I nodded. “Because it needs to be not just me who you discuss this with. I get why you don’t want all of us there, but having Jacks around too makes it easier for me.” Dad had form for this, using me as a sounding board, but that could cause resentment with some of my siblings who felt excluded or not heard. In this case, though, they weren’t likely to argue if their kids were getting a trust fund set aside for them, and a Christmas holiday together, but having Jacks around would give another perspective into the logistics of the holiday, likewise Vic and Vanessa.
“Understood,” Dad said and didn’t probe, although I wasn’t sure he did understand.
“How’s Marie? Has she relaxed at all on holiday?” I changed the subject onto the one he liked best.
“Some. She wants the apartment renovated now, or to move to a slightly bigger one, which I think will be the answer. Selling the house is the right thing to do – it’s too big now and underused, but the apartment is a bit small for what we’ll need when we have people staying with us, so we’re going to view some this week.” He inhaled deeply. “You know what she’s like when she gets an idea in her head.”
“Which is why she agreed to marry you less than two weeks after you met.” I had no idea what spell Dad had cast while he was in New York, but it must’ve been pretty potent to rope Marie into taking on the four of us, as well as him.
He nodded. “I’ve never understood why she said yes.”
“We found the photo of when you proposed at the top of the Empire State Building.” I hadn’t looked through them all yet, not sure how I felt about them. When Dad had been in New York, I’d been dealing with being kicked out of school, Jackson and Claire both scared of going in without me and two nannies who didn’t want to be there because we were hell on wheels. He’d obviously had a great time in New York and I’d wished he’d taken us with him. I only knew of the city from films and photos in magazines, but it’d been the place I’d really wanted to visit and our dad was there.
That was a long time ago and I’d almost healed, understanding what’d motivated him more than I ever thought I would. His own father hadn’t been hands on, so Grant Callaghan had no idea how to parent. At least he hadn’t sent us to boarding school and we’d all stayed together.
“That was the second time I proposed.” He stopped outside one of the pubs near the office. “Fancy a quick pint?”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone for a pint with just me and him. “I won’t say no.”
We sat near the bar, my father ordering two pints of the guest IPA, which went down easily with the first mouthful.
“You proposed twice?” I hadn’t heard this story before.
He looked shy about it. “She didn’t answer the first time. I didn’t think she was going to say yes, because why would she? We’d had a fling in New York where she lived and had a nice apartment and a career. I had a career but I had four kids with no mother and a whole ton of baggage, so I thought she must be insane for even considering it.”
“So where did you propose?”
“In the elevator on the way to the private observation deck of the Empire State Building. I convinced one of the workers there to pause the lift to give me a bit longer to make the pitch. She told me to ask her again when we climbed to the top and said yes.” His face brightened as he remembered. “That was the last night in New York. I caught my flight early that morning and nearly didn’t get on it because I didn’t want to leave Marie behind. I did get on the plane and she was there waiting for me.”
I suspected the grin on his face was the same as it had been when he’d seen her there. “And you brought her back to us.”
He nodded. “You were all in a state. I don’t think any of you’d bathed for days and the house looked like the lost boys from Peter Pan had lived there before Wendy sorted them out.”
“That’s pretty much how it felt. Callum’s said to me before that Marie was his Wendy.”
He looked into the distance at nothing in particular. “She did change everything.” He grinned. “She didn’t let me get away with anything. I remember when we were in London one evening and you and Jacks had rugby practice. I had an urgent thing to do on a file – I can’t remember what it was – and Marie was going out with friends for a meal. I remember trying to get her to cancel so she could take you and the roasting she gave me. I think she nearly brained me with a stiletto.”
“You took us though, didn’t you?” I couldn’t remember this, but there had been a lot of rugby practices when we moved to London.
“I did. I went over the file when you’d gone to bed – I think Jackson had a black eye after that practice – and Marie got home very giddy from drinking red wine. I realised the next day that I was pretty good at remembering things and didn’t need to give files a second and third read every time.”
“You were a perfectionist.”
He nodded. “With work. You inherited that trait and I’m sorry about that. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
Laughing, I checked my phone. There were a couple of texts from Vic about ordering food and could I pick up some orange juice on the way back for the boys.
“I’m not as obsessed as I used to be with work.” I knew that was true. I’d made sure it was true.
“I agree. Meeting Victoria was the best thing I could’ve hoped for you. When you stupidly ended it, I wanted to shake you.” He finished his pint. “And you’ve been a much better dad than I ever was.”
“Thank you. You did get better when Marie started telling you what to do.” I finished the rest of my pint and stood up. “We did too. She was very bossy.”
“She had to be.” He slid off his stool too, saying thank you to the bar staff. “Let’s get back before they send out the dogs to find us.”
Jackson, Van and their kids were there already when we arrived back, the house full of noise, most of it laughter along with the occasional whinge from a child.
We ate, the Chinese arriving just after Dad and I got back, and then the kids disappeared to the cellar for a movie night, most of which would be spent arguing about what they watched.
“Max said something about a holiday before Christmas,” Jackson said, swirling wine around in his glass. He fancied himself as something of a wine connoisseur at the moment which was great for ripping the piss out of him.
Marie topped up her own glass. “We want to take you all to Lapland with the kids. Do the sleigh rides and see the northern lights, stay in an ice hotel for a night. We were thinking four nights, getting home on Christmas Eve.”
“I’d get back the day before Christmas Eve. The kids will be nuts on Christmas Eve and if we get back the night before we can do the usual breakfasts and pyjama day. They’d miss that if we didn’t get back until mid-afternoon or something and be too tired.” That was Jackson’s opinion which I was inclined to agree with.
Vic pinched a piece of prawn toast from my plate. “I think getting home the day before is better. I’d say to do three nights away too. They finish school on the Thursday, so Friday night, Saturday, Sunday, home Monday, Christmas Eve Tuesday – that’d be perfect.”
“Are they all finishing the same day?” Marie looked at her phone.
“I think Rose, Teddy and Eliza are a day earlier.” Vanessa sat back in her chair. “We’ll need to get the Christmas presents over to Oxford and pack for Christmas away in advance. That means being organised.”
Jackson glared over at her. “We don’t have any problem with being organised.”
“No, but Seph and Georgia aren’t the most organised.” Van patted his arm. “And they’re going to have a lot going on.”
“All being well, Rose will be absolutely fine by October.” Marie put her phone down. “I spoke to a specialist I know. He’s based in New York, so he doesn’t know Rose specifically, but Georgia sent me some of the notes over and I asked him what his thoughts were. It really is a standard procedure now to prevent her from having problems in the future. A few years ago and they wouldn’t even know what was the matter with her.”
“I think Seph’s worried about complications with the operation,” I said. I’d spent more time than usual with him this week, away from work and photocopiers.
“I’ve told him not to bother trouble. We can think like that about anything and getting all stressed beforehand isn’t going to be helpful to anyone, especially Rose.” Marie sipped at her wine. “You think the Lapland trip’s a good idea?”
I nodded, Vic and Vanessa made some comment that agreed. Jackson said nothing, which was noted.
“Jacks?” I looked at my brother. He didn’t seem concerned. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s great. I think we have very spoilt children though so Teddy’s going to have to do something to realise how lucky he is.”
That was a fair point. “What are you thinking?”
“They need to buy a present for the charity that asks for donations for kids whose families can’t afford gifts – from their pocket money. They can choose it and wrap it themselves. Isobel can do it too. She’s old enough.” His arms were folded, and he looked fierce about this. “There’s an old people’s home near us too. I’m thinking they can write cards for some of the residents and hand deliver them.”
“Lucy can join you.” Vic said. “And the twins.”
“Agreed.” I was happy with that because Jackson was right. They could easily become spoilt.
“Trust funds.” It was my dad who brought this up. “How do you feel about that. I know they have one set up already, but we were thinking a second for when they’re thirty, which will be about the time they’re settling down. Maybe.”
“It’s your money,” this was me now, as I’d had thoughts about that. “But I think there should be a caveat to it, that a certain percentage is for a charity of their choosing, or they have to have done so many hours volunteering to be able to access it.”
“I like the volunteering. And if they know about it early on, they can get involved in more. Let’s face it,” Jackson said. “Our kids aren’t going to need to worry about money, unless they piss it up a wall, which we won’t let them. They have to work for the first trust fund to be accessible or be committed to a long term programme of study. We’ve caveated it up pretty well.”
It'd been Jackson and Claire who’d set the ball in motion for this, then all of us had used the same model.
My dad looked at us all and then Marie. “We’ll put something together for you to approve. Do any of you need anything?”
“You both to stay healthy and live for a lot longer.” I said the words before I’d even thought about them. “That would be nice.”
“No promises, son, but we’ll try.”