Chapter 34

"Dad!" Frank yelled, "Joe's gone off his feet."

Fenton was already at the patio doors where he'd apparently been keeping an eye on the brothers from outside and quickly came to crouch with Frank next to his youngest. "Son, hey Joe?" he asked and tapped Joe on the cheek, "C'mon sport, wake up." He followed up the slap with a good hard shake but received nothing from the encumbered young man. "He's out alright. Help me get the Kevlar vest off him, that can't be helping. Probably restricting his breathing – I thought he was faring too well after yesterday and today."

Between them they hastily stripped Joe free of his shirt and then loosened the strapping to the vest to pull it free of his body. Once it was lifted away, they both grimaced sympathetically at what had been hidden beneath.

"Con wasn't kidding when he said being hit by a bullet, even while wearing an armoured vest, was like being kicked by a horse," Fenton remarked as they stared at the blossoming target-like bruising to Joe's chest, adding to the scrapes and contusions already across his shoulder area. "How he kept so still and silent the whole time when Claud was lording it over us is amazing. Joe's pain threshold must be incredible."

"Joe said I was like a superhero today, but he's the real superhero." Frank looked up directly into his father's eyes. "We need to look after him better though. He's been carrying too much."

"You've noticed?"

"Positively suffers for his art."

"Let's get him to the sofa."

Joe started to come out of it as they were transferring him across. "What-cha doin'?" he asked vaguely as they settled him down.

"We gotcha, Bro." Frank positioned a cushion under his brother's head. "You passed out."

"Did I?"

"You sure did, just for a second or two."

"Where'd my duds go?" Joe asked, looking down at himself.

"Don't complain, if you'd had your way, you'd be naked right now."

"Huh?"

Fenton laughed at his son's confused expression and grabbed the throw that was hung over the back of the sofa to tuck around him as a blanket. "I'm taking you back to the hospital after you've rested up a while so they can take another look at that shoulder of yours and check you didn't crack a rib or two."

"Terrific—" Joe groaned.

Frank leaned over him, "Joe, Dad's gonna stay with you while I go to make up an ice pack for that bruising, but no more arguing, yeah? Give yourself permission to relax." Frank left them for the kitchen. As he passed the dining room, he came face-to-face with James who had apparently been watching what was happening with Joe, probably debating whether to help or not. Frank smiled, but James turned away wordlessly and returned to his chair at the table.

Entering the kitchen, Frank found Vanessa doing the exact same thing with ice that he was about to. "You too, huh?" he asked and chose to ignore how she wiped a tear away quickly so he would not see.

"Mom's awake" she reported and handed Frank another towel to hold the ice he was getting from the refrigerator. "I can't believe that low life hit her! Can't imagine what it was like for James growing up with such violence. Poor guy. Is Joe okay?" she asked.

"Joe just...yeah, Joe's okay," Frank answered catching himself. He didn't want to add weight to Vanessa's worries.

She left the room at speed, her footfalls heard racing back up the stairs.

Frank considered how amazing it was that for once, it was everyone else falling apart around him and he was the only one to come out of it largely unscathed. Everyone had been so worried about him, about how he would cope – to the point of Con sharing a heated disagreement with his dad about Frank's readiness to go undercover at Compute-Soft. If the conclusion of the day's activities had not been so tragic, Frank would have felt jubilant. He had outperformed even his own expectations, proven all his doubters wrong.

He was finishing off the icepack as the sound of sirens finally started to be heard, a clammer of official sounding voices beginning to fill the air. Frank heard the first stranger come into the kitchen behind him.

"What on earth's happened?"

"Thank the Lord!" Frank thought with relief. He knew that voice, this was no stranger. He didn't even have to turn around to see who it was, but he spun anyway. "Mom, am I ever glad to see you!" Frank started talking.

Laura shouldered her purse and listened carefully to what her son was telling her, nodding occasionally, but not interrupting. Her face grew more and more concerned, full of compassion and empathy. At the end, she had Frank take her to where James was.

Frank watched from the doorway as she entered the room and tentatively put her hand on James's back and bent to speak to him. He did not rebuff her advance and eventually she pulled out a chair and sat down to hold his hand. She had become 'Mom'.

Frank shut the door on the scene and went to give Joe his ice.

James was finishing his cappuccino in the cafe he had discovered just a short, ten minute walk from the Hardy's family home where he had been staying for the last two weeks. He had not returned to his "uncle's…uh…dad's place," since those events at Andrea's house, and instead had sought solace with Laura, unwilling yet to speak to Con about the disclosure that had been exposed.

It was not an understatement to say that his "dad…uh…uncle," Claud Riley, had made things difficult for them with his cruel taunts, built a wall between James and Con that neither of them could yet attempt to climb. And everyone knew just how bad Con was at climbing – although to be fair to Con, he had made several stabs at making contact, both through Fenton and by ringing James's cell phone. But James had ignored all attempts, did not feel ready. Laura had the opposite opinion. She didn't think it healthy. James disagreed on all points – it was his life after all and he was sick of people dictating to him what directions he should be moving in. He knew he was being kind of a brat, but life had carved him that way.

He and Con had seen each other, once, at Claud's funeral. Con had organised it and Fenton had attended with him, the only people who did. None of the rest of the family had shown up – if they had even known about it. James had stood up the hill a little way next to a tree and had watched from a distance trying to conjure up some sort of feeling at the loss of Claud Riley, but all he felt was a cold numbness. He ended up observing Fenton and Con more than listening to what the priest was saying, noting how Mr H's hand retained its contact against Con's back for the entire service. Fenton was more like a brother to Con than Claud had ever been.

As the priest finished the brief eulogy, Con glanced back and he and James locked eyes and gazed at one another indecisively for a few seconds. James had almost gone over, but then he had lost his nerve and had turned around and left.

Frank and Joe had stayed away from their parent's house and James suspected that was by Laura's request. She had been brilliant. He wished his own mother had been able to be like that when he had been younger, but their personal circumstances had made that impossible.

His mother had passed away just before James had joined the force, but her personal rot had set in years before. He believed that she had willed the cancer on herself. She had not fought it, had just let the disease take her. Then as soon as she was gone, Claud's hold on James was at an end. James often wondered whether on some level his mom had orchestrated it that way, sacrificed herself to free her son.

So James had got up one morning, packed everything, and – whilst receiving a barrage of threats from Claud – turned his back and left...off on his search for the truth about 'Uncle' Constantine Riley and the rumours that he was his real father and not Claudius Riley. James had come to accept over the months that the rumours must not have been true because Con had failed to mention anything about it. He'd been living in Con's house for months, so there had been plenty of opportunities for Con to broach the subject, so why hadn't he? James felt let down by Con's cowardice.

He was suddenly pulled out of his serpentine thoughts as another cappuccino was placed down in his line of vision. He looked up in surprise at the waitress. "You've made a mistake,"

"Compliments of the lady at the bar," she said. "I've always wanted to say that," she finished with a laugh and pointed toward the counter.

Vanessa was sitting on a stool with one of those ice-cream sundae coffee contraptions in a plastic cup with a straw that he hated. Her long legs were crossed and her uppermost toes pointing directly at him. She motioned if she could come over.

He froze for a second, startled and swept a quick look about to see if anyone else was with her, but she was alone. He nodded his assent.

She climbed down off the stool, picked up her drink and a heavy looking bag and strode across. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go for your life. Where's Joe?"

"At work."

James looked at his watch. "I'm losing track," he admitted ruefully. "A coincidence, seeing you here."

"No coincidence, I came looking for you."

James raised a defensive eyebrow and took his elbow off the table.

Vanessa placed her drink down and sat to the side of him. Then she laid her palms flat, fingers spread like she was revealing her hand in a game of cards. "This is the thing, James. Con's miserable. And when Con's miserable, my mom's miserable and that doesn't make for a happy home life for me."

James crossed his arms. "And?"

"...And I don't believe that you're happy with the situation either."

"You're right, I'm not. But this isn't a simple thing, Van."

"No one ever said it would be easy, life rarely is."

"Understatement. I was four when Con left and not once did he make contact. He was the only member of my family, other than mom, who was any sort of safety net. Try imagining what is was like having someone promise they'll come back, and then not. I waited for months."

"What did you think Con would have done? Carried you off in the sunset on his trusty charger?"

"Actually, yeah I did. I wasn't lying when I said it was something I wished for every night. I was only a kid, he was my hero. How was I supposed to feel?"

Vanessa didn't react and instead pulled a folded up sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. He unfurled it. It was a dog-eared copy of his own birth certificate.

"Look at it." She pointed to a particular entry, "Con wasn't listed as your father, Claud was. That weakened any legal case Con could have brought for guardianship or access rights. The courts wouldn't have ruled in his favour without proof. A blood test wouldn't have proven anything because Con and Claud were the same blood type. A DNA paternity test could have offered confirmation, but Con didn't have the grounds to force one, and as you know, if he'd tried that, Claud would have ruined him and he couldn't have afforded a protracted court case after that. Can you imagine what it would have done to Con's reputation on the force if it had come out that he'd been a petty criminal as a child – albeit an unconvicted one? The fact his own father, your grandfather, forced him into it would have meant very little."

"Where did you get all this information?"

"Clear a space," Vanessa said and started moving the cups to the other side of the table. Then she unzipped the large bag she had been carrying and pulled out a very full, and very heavy looking document folder. She hoisted and plonked it onto the table in front of him. "Take a look."

James cracked it open and started flicking through it, page by page.

"Con showed it to Mom and me. It's on your family, or more specifically, Claud and you. If you'd have agreed to speak to Con then you'd have been shown this too and then you'd know that Con did try to find you. But he couldn't get in touch until he'd pulled together enough evidence on Claud's criminal activities so he could arm himself to fight back. By the time he'd got enough, your dad had changed your names and skipped town. He couldn't find you, but for years he searched. It wasn't you who changed your surname like we thought, was it?"

"No, it was Claud." James confirmed, still thumbing through the folder amazed at all the information Con had uncovered. Judging from the yellowing of some of the earlier sheets of paper, it must have been years of work. Not just police reports, there were newspaper cuttings, witness statements, photographs, criminal intelligence case files, even copies of James's early school reports. He opened one of the later ones and started nosing through. "Jeeze..." he uttered in surprise, stopping at a particular page.

"What is it?" Vanessa asked, shuffling her chair closer so she could see.

He put his elbow back on the table and leaned his chin on his fist. "This year at school, I was flunking math, couldn't get my head around it." He pointed at the scribbles his teacher had left to show Vanessa how it had been circled in red ink.

Vanessa laughed. "Ouch! Your teacher didn't pull any punches."

"I had some private tuition that year to get me up to speed. I've never given it a moment's thought, but my dad would never have paid for that. I suppose if I'd thought about it, I would have assumed my tutor did it voluntarily, but it wasn't that at all, it must have been Con who paid." He pointed at the margin where, in Con's handwriting, there was a hastily scribbled name. "That was my tutor. It was soon after that my dad changed our surname and started moving us around. See how Con's notes dry up after that?"

Vanessa laid her hand on his wrist. "So you see, he didn't abandon you. And Con had been trying to tell you he was your real dad, but you know what he's like, he's clumsy when it comes to matters of the heart. And the longer he left it, the harder it got – it was never the right time."

James harrumphed, but it wasn't a hard noise, more a thoughtful expletive.

Vanessa smiled. "If you're looking for a natural father in Con, you won't find it, he doesn't know what he's doing. You should hear the conversations he and Mr H have been having, Con hasn't a clue. But he wants to try and surely that's all you can ask for?"

James chose not to say anything, but he was listening, his head down and eyes zoning in on the paperwork.

"I know life was tough for you when you were a kid, but you've got a real chance here for something good. Okay, so you'll never have a normal father-son relationship, but it's gotta be better than the crap Claudius Riley inflicted? Con wouldn't make you climb in through small windows so you can let your family in to burgle and search people's homes."

James jerked in his chair.

"Yeah, we know about that as well. At the end of the day, if you and Con don't make the effort, then Claud wins. Don't let him win, James. You've both wasted too many years."

James looked out of the window. It was starting the cheer up, the sun coming out and bursting through the cloud cover. The hand on his arm squeezed and pulled his attention back.

"It's worth a gamble, and I'd give Con pretty good odds..." then she laughed.

He gave her a sharp look. Was she about to make fun of him? No, she was still earnestly serious.

"…and you wouldn't be in this alone."

James frowned, not understanding. "How so?"

"Con and Mom, they're pretty much in it for the long haul. They're already making noises about moving in together. Mom isn't comfortable in our house anymore since the home invasion, she doesn't feel safe. Hardly goes out in the yard now and Con doesn't like us living on our own."

"So?"

"…So, it'd mean I'll have to get used to having a new dad as well – or at least a father figure. Personally, I'm stoked that it's going to be Con, he's one of the coolest people I know. The added benefit to that is that if I've played my cards right, not only do I get a dad again, but I could get a big brother into the bargain. I've always been jealous of Joe because of Frank."

"Aren't you forgetting something."

"What?"

"As flattered as I am, I can't be your big brother. You're taller than me."

"I know, I'm a freak."

"Freaks are us."

James caught the waitress's eye and pointed at the muffins, allowing Vanessa to take the folder off the table and return it to the document wallet.

"Make mine a chocolate chip," Vanessa requested.

They waited for the cakes to be delivered before carrying on their conversation.

James carefully unfurled the sides down on the wrapper. "Laura put you up to this, didn't she?" he asked, popping some of the muffin into his mouth.

"Yep. But not just Mrs H. My mom wants me to extend an invitation to you."

"What sort of invitation?"

"To come and stay with us, for as long as you like."

"You and Andrea?"

"She thinks it would be easier than you going cold turkey at Con's place. Con would be around, but not as much as if you lived with him again. The invitation's there if you want it. No pressure."

James felt his face color up as the enormity of what he was being offered hit him fully. He was unused to such generosity, he was finding it difficult to accept that people would be so kind to him for no personal gain. He look away quickly and blinked a few time to clear his vision. "This is crazy mad!" For the whole of his life, this had been his dream – to be accepted into a family. A real family…a regular family...mom, dad, other kids. He thought he was the only person in the world who hankered after such normalities, but it seemed the girl sitting at the table with him had been having the same fantasies too.

They both sat in companiable silence for a time, Vanessa sipping that god awful drink and nibbling on her cake, attempting to not get any crumbs under her manicured nails. James thoughtfully stirred sugar into his frothy coffee, concentrating hard on pushing down those feelings that were threatening to show themselves again. He wanted to pick up the cup and take a drink to swallow down the lump in his throat, but he was afraid his hand wouldn't be steady enough.

Eventually he gave her a side on look and she did the same thing to him, and a slow conspiratorial grin was shared.

"It would be fun, wouldn't it?" Vanessa asked.

"It'd have its moments."

There was no time like the present. As soon as James as acceded to Andrea's request, Vanessa had dragged him up and frog marched him back to the Hardy's house. There they had packed up all his belongings, thrown them in the back of her wrangler jeep and driven straight to Andrea's.

Later that same evening, as James was talking to Andrea and Vanessa in the living room, Con walked in and froze in his tracks, almost falling over his own feet. Unbeknownst to them all, he had arrived at the house and quietly let himself in.

"Uh," Con had said at first, completely at a loss. "Hello," was the only other word he said before tipping his confused face in Andrea's direction.

"Hi," James said, feeling suddenly amazingly shy but keeping his bearing.

"James is staying for a while," Andrea explained.

Con's facial expression morphed comically from confused to "What have you been up to, you meddling woman?"

"That's okay isn't it?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" he asked quickly and traded looking at Andrea to James and smiled tentatively. "Welcome."

"Thanks…" James conjured the next word into his mouth, rolled it around a few times and tasted it before putting it out there, "…Dad."

Con choked and put a finger up. "Don't move, I just gotta—" and then he turned on his heels and left the room.

It was only later that James found out Con had been so overawed that he had fled to the kitchen to shred a private tear. Unfortunately, he had not accounted for Andrea's level of empathy and she had caught him out.

No one ever spoke of it again.