S1 E5 - The Letter

Gordon Foster is just wrapping up a bid for the first half-decent contract that's come his way since the disaster - since the TWIN disasters – of Leon Hamilton – and his divorce. Of the two catastrophes, he knows he would have paid twice the first in order to prevent the second. He misses his wife terribly but it is the boy, his lovely boy with the quiet eyes and the loving smile that he grieves for the most.

He snorts. He would live in a raggedy tent in a swamp, eating nothing but bugs, if it would bring his family back. He laughs dispiritedly, not that he would make anyone live in a tent… OR eat bugs… but it's the thought that counts. He shakes his head. Stop wishing for the unwishable, Gordon, and nail this contract. It's the first step back to a normal life, a normal SINGLE life but a life nonetheless.

Just as he hits 'SEND', someone knocks at his front door. He looks up with a frown, his heart skipping a beat. The last person to knock on his door had been Samuel King with his lies and threats. If it hadn't been for that heaven-sent policeman, Gordon's life would be so much WORSE now than it is.

He eases out of his home office and slips down the entry steps to listen carefully. He hears something like shuffling feet, the crackle of a sheet of paper, then the most astoundingly unbelievable heart-stopping sound of all! His son's voice murmuring something and his wife's murmur back!

He throws the door open so violently that it cracks a slat and rebounds, almost knocking him down and scaring the bejabbers out of the two people standing without. He stiff-arms the door and just gawps. He rubs his eyes then feels the sting as his son says tremulously, "Daddy, are you OK?"

He tears his eyes off his son and stares at his wife. She's thinner, paler, subdued. That's not like her, not like her at all. The last time he'd seen her she'd been blazing with righteous fury and shouting at the top of her lungs, calling him every name in the book and a few she made up on the spot! But now she can barely meet his eyes as she whispers, "May we come in, Gordon? Please? We're… we're very tired and I have…" she waves a sheet of paper timidly, creased and worn, "… I have a letter here that I need help with. I don't know how to answer it. Can we come in?"

He realizes that he's blocking the door, shoulders tensed for a fight, mouth hanging open, and starting to scare his boy. He jerks erect, steps aside, and waves a slow arm, "Oh, yes, of course, please come in. I'm sorry, you caught me by surprise, I had no idea… I mean… um… what do I mean?"

She smiles faintly as she steps inside, the boy's hand in hers. As she watches Gordon pick up their suitcase, she murmurs, "I hope you mean you're glad to see us. Are you, Gordon? Glad?"

He halts mid-step and just stares at her, hearing the tone of her voice, seeing her hesitant posture, and doesn't know what to think. He swallows, closes the door, "Yes, I'm glad. I just don't understand."

At the top of the stairs, she turns to him and hands him the sheet of paper, "Here. Read this. Then you'll understand as much as I do. Which is to say, not at all." She turns, takes the boy into the kitchen, and leaves her ex-husband in the hallway, reading, his puzzled face blanking out then growing pale as his eyes get wider and wider and wider.

It is several minutes before he shuffles into the kitchen, the letter still in front of his eyes. He bumps into the prep island and almost falls onto it. He gently lays the letter down and frowns to his wife with the strangest look on his face.

She sees this and frowns back, turns to the boy who is finishing a glass of juice, "I think you need to nap, my dear." She looks to Gordon, "Is there somewhere he can lie down?"

Gordon answers absently, "Of course, his room, his room is still there." Now Gordon's eyes flit away, "As is mine… I mean ours… I mean… um…"

Very faintly she husks, "Oh, good, I'll just settle him then be right back."

Gordon waves a hand and she is gone. When she comes back a minute later, he is gratified to see she has removed her jacket and looks a bit more comfortable but still uncertain. He puts on the kettle and they wait until they each have a steaming mug of tea before she speaks.

She taps at the letter laying between them, "This Richard Poole… "

Gordon huffs and shakes his head, "Richard Poole, now there's a name I won't forget in a hurry."

She takes a sip, "Why? What did he do?"

Gordon makes a fist on the island-top, "He only went and scared the living shit out of me then saved me from a black-mailing bastard! He only exonerated my name and regained our missing money! He only saved my sorry ass and gave me back my dignity! That's all. Oh, and he put me in the hospital…" Her mouth is hanging open and he knows just how she feels. He reaches out and gently touches her chin while huffing a quiet laugh, "I don't think I've ever seen you speechless before."

"Saved you? Black-mail? The money? Hospital?" She doesn't know where to begin!

Gordon chuckles at that, "Yeah, he chased me down in the street and I ran over some glass. He loaned me his handkerchief, bought me a drink then took me to the Emergency Ward. There's hardly a scar."

She rasps weakly, "Oh, jolly good."

He nods, "And, yes, he found the missing money. Not just ours but all of it. It's tied up with the court case but as soon as that's done, everyone on the island will get their money back. Including me… I mean us… I mean the business." His voice is soft, unsure, hopeful.

She hears this, grows more confused, pulls the letter towards herself, turns it around and looks down at it. "He has lovely handwriting," is all she can think to say.

Gordon snorts, "Of course he does. With a fountain pen, it looks like."

She nods, "Um, yes, I think so too… but Gordon…?" He looks down, readying himself for the inevitable 'Good to see you, thanks for the tea, call me when the money comes in,' but it never comes. Instead she taps the letter again and looks puzzled, "Here, he writes about how you were taken in by your trusting nature and good manners. How none of this was your fault in any way. How upright and honest and true a person you are. How… how taking our son away and depriving him of your loving protection and stalwart stewardship would ruin the boy's life. How…"

Gordon reaches out suddenly and takes her hand, "Yes, I read that. Also how missing you in my life will ruin ME! And he's right, he's right! He was right about everything concerning the Leon Hamilton case and he's right about us too." He bows his head and says in a hushed tone, "Please tell me that you'll come back to me. I promise not to make you live in a tent or eat bugs…" Her mouth drops open again. Is this HER Gordon speaking like this? He sits up and says firmly, "… and I certainly will never fall for any more con men! Richard Poole made sure of that! I'll never do anything bold ever again unless I check with him first! I promise!"

She squeezes his hand and her smile lights up the whole room, "Oh, Gordon, I'm sure we won't need Richard Poole's advice how to lead our lives. We're grown-ups, I'm sure we can manage on our own."

He swallows dryly, "Um, I'm sure we can. Does this mean that you're thinking of… maybe… perhaps… giving me another chance? Can I get you a room somewhere while we try to decide what we're doing?"

She stands up, smooths back her hair, "Nonsense, I don't need a room, I HAVE a room. You just said, didn't you? I've been thinking ever since I got this letter… and Richard Poole is right. I made a bad decision out of fear and anger… and I regret it bitterly. Please say you'll take us back? Take ME back. I know you love the boy but… can you ever forgive me for leaving?"

He stands and takes her in cautious embrace, "I can forgive you anything now that you're back. And, yes, I would like you to stay. I've missed you so. We'll take it slow, one step at a time, and I'm sure we can get past this thing."

"I'm sure too. As far as I'm concerned, we ARE past it." She draws an envelope out of her purse and says softly, "I had the papers drawn up, just in case, to cancel our divorce. I hope you don't mind. It's a bit presumptive of me but I was hoping…"

He takes the envelope, lays it on the counter-top atop the letter, leads her away, "Yes, yes, of course, let's look at it when nap-time is over. Right now, I think we have a LOT to talk about. Don't you?"

"Yes," she agrees, drawing him up the hall, "but, Gordon, there's ONE thing." He pauses and she says with determination, "I want to meet this Richard Poole. I want to shake the hand of the man who had the insight, the wisdom, the fortitude to write me that letter. Can you take me to him?"

Gordon smiles, nods, "Yes, tomorrow. And… dearest?" She looks up in question. He grins, "Prepare yourself for a shock. Things… and people… are not always as they seem."

END