Chapter Four - The Prodigal Son

Typical, he thought as he ended the call. Bloody typical. It's the first time in 5 years that we've spoken. Our mother has just died and he couldn't have sounded less interested if he'd tried. He didn't even ask about the arrangements either. If I needed any help. Just, where? when? And, I'll be there. Typical

It had been hard for him these last few months, coping with his mother as she'd got older and frailer, and more bitter. Hell, it had been hard these last 5 years since his brother had decided it was 'all too much for him' and had run away to 'find himself'. Meanwhile he, like the dutiful son he was, had stayed at home to look after his mother. He'd put up with the rages and the demands, and the downright nastiness as she'd slipped further into her old age.

It hadn't been a graceful slide. Used to having her own way, to his father, her husband, waiting on her hand and foot, his mother had railed against the betrayal of her body, and her mind, as they slowly decayed and left her more and more reliant on others, and less and less able to bend them to her will. He'd been left to cope with it, on his own, while his brother, his older brother who should have taken the responsibility of and for the family once his father died, escaped and moved away. Too far away to take his share of the monthly, then weekly and at the end, daily visits his mother had demanded.

And now she was gone. And with her death, everything from his father's estate would also be settled. Everything, the house, the investments, the company, everything. And it would all pass to his brother. Everything he'd worked tirelessly for the last 5 years to keep going and keep together, it would all go to his brother and not a single sniff of it to him. Sure, he kept his place in the company, that was guaranteed by his father's will. But control of it - that went to his brother as the eldest.

Even after he abandoned them with his foolish notions of an 'ordinary life', his mother had refused to disinherit his brother. It's how it's meant to be, she'd said. And that was the end to any further discussions. Once her mind was made up, it was made up. And in the end, even if she'd wanted to, her mind broke before she could change it.

So now he'd be back. The prodigal son, only too late to see his mother alive, and probably only too happy about that. Since their father had died, and before that when he thought about it, they'd not got on - his mother and his brother. She'd been disappointed in his lack of interest in the company, and his refusal to play along with her society games. He suspected that was the real reason his brother had left, not in search of an ordinary life, but to escape the cut of his mother's sharp tongue and her expectations. And now that she was gone, his brother would be only too happy to come back and pick up his old life of wealth and celebrity and power. An ordinary life, don't make me laugh. That's not what you really want.

The phone rang again and angrily he snatched it up. He was in no mood to talk to anyone now. He listened to the voice at the other end for a few seconds before snarling, No comment and slamming the receiver down.

Damn them. It had only been a matter of time but he was surprised at how quickly the news of his mother's death had leaked out. It would be on the front pages tomorrow, all the gory details and the speculation of what would happen next. He sighed, it was going to be a long night and that would only be the first of many calls from journalists looking for the inside story, the scoop, the gossip. He wondered if there was a way to turn this to his advantage?