1
CANDRIN
The will
“To my son Candrin, I leave my gold watch, the clock which belonged to his mother, my restored motorbike, and the set of children’s fairy tales I read to him as a child.”
The lawyer, Mr. James, stopped reading my father’s will and peered at me over the top of his glasses. Perhaps he wanted a break as he’d been detailing small bequests to our long-term housekeeper, Molly, and Saul, her mate, who looked after the gardens and was Father’s chauffeur. And there were endowments to libraries and universities, and to the charity he’d set up years ago and which I was head of.
But when Mr. James didn’t continue, I glanced up. He was gazing at me with… was it pity? I suppose some would feel sorry for me. As a poor little rich boy. I wanted for nothing, except now I was an orphan at the age of twenty-seven, my mom having died when I was in my teens.
My father passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack last week. I was out of town when it happened. I wouldn’t say we were buddies, but we liked and respected one another. And I loved him.
Mr. James cleared his throat and studied the papers he was holding in his blue-veined hands. It struck me as odd Father had mentioned the books, the watch and the other items because as his only son, his entire estate would be left to me. Who else would he leave it to? I’d read of people leaving their fortune to a pet, but Father was allergic to animals.
“The remainder of my estate including the house and contents, cars, stocks and shares, property portfolio, and my company, Pawsome Treats, I leave to my first born son, Charles.”
“Charles?” The name was whispered around the room but I leaped off the sofa in my father’s study and yelled, “Who the fuck is Charles?I’m his only son.”
Mr. James sighed and removed his glasses. “Candrin, in the last weeks of his life?—”
I cut him off by going up to the huge oak desk, my father’s desk, and leaning over the lawyer. “I don’t have a brother.”
“But you do.”
The huge wooden doors opened and in sauntered some guy. His cologne announced him, wafting around the room, overpowering me, and I flapped a hand in front of my face. The guy wore a suit that looked familiar. Was that my dad’s? One similar to it was delivered a couple of weeks ago. I disliked the man on sight and wanted to wipe off his smug grin with a slap.
He offered me his hand. “Charles. Your big bro.”
I ignored him and turned to Mr. James. “Is this a joke because if it is, I’m not laughing.”
The lawyer opened his mouth but Charles shushed him. “Our dad didn’t know I existed until a few months ago.”
“Get out.” I got in his face and for a second, his eyes flickered with uncertainty. But he lifted his chin and plonked his ass on the desk. The freaking cheek.
“Little bro, that’s my line.” He waved his hand around the room. “This place, including the desk, is all mine. But I’ll give you time to move out.” He checked his watch but my gaze flicked to the clock on the wall. My mom’s which had been mentioned in the will. It was two in the afternoon. “Shall we say five. Be gone by then or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
“How could you let this happen?” I slammed my fist on the desk. One of my first memories was of sitting on Father’s knee right here while he read me a story.
Mr. James shrugged. “The paperwork was in order and his identity confirmed.”
“But Father gave him the lot.” This couldn’t be happening. It was a nightmare. Some stranger had swooped in and stolen everything. That wasn’t quite true. My father had been taken from me. But this guy had everything else.
I sunk into a seat. “But why?”
Mr. James handed me an envelope with my name on it, written inmy father’s hand.
Charles clicked his fingers. “Off you go. All of you. There’s nothing more to hear.” He spoke to Molly. “I want salmon for dinner and truffles if you can get them. Oh, and the best champagne from dear old dad’s wine cellar. Time to celebrate.”
My nostrils flared as he patted my shoulder. “Not for you though.” He studied my suit. “Nice threads. Leave them when you depart.”
“Why you—” I raised my fist but Saul dragged me out of the room to the kitchen at the back of the house. I pulled myself out of his grasp and adjusted my tie. “The guy’s an imposter. I’ve never laid eyes on him.”
Molly refused to meet my gaze and fussed over boiling water for tea. She and Saul had worked here since I was a kid and lived in a small cottage on the extensive grounds that surrounded the house. Not ours and not mine. His. That fucking imposter.
“Have you seen that guy before?” I stabbed the air in the direction of the study. The kitchen was some distance from the study so Charles probably couldn't hear me yelling, though the screaming in my head was louder than anything out of my mouth.
“He’s been here a few times in the past month or so.”
