Page 122 of Crocodile Tears

“And yes, I always thought that was because he had money, and I was just the son of an IS without a penny to my name. Your mother grew up in a work camp, and her family had nothing, so your father must have seemed like a better bet than an impoverished dreamer like me.”

“Nobody would ever accuse my mum of following her head rather than her heart,” Alex refuted.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe she simply loved him more than she loved me.” Tyler shrugged. “There’s more – if you want to hear it. Your father might not know this bit, but I’ll tell you as a gesture of my good faith, so you can be sure I’m holding nothing back.”

Alex nodded. “All right – but don’t bullshit me. I’ll be able to tell.”

“Of course you would – and I wouldn’t dare.” Tyler leaned back, a rueful smile on his lips. “As you know, my mother was the housekeeper at The Orchard. Your father was fond of her, and even when she became old and frail, he said she could remain in the rooms that she and my father had shared before he died.”

“Mrs Tyler was kind to me when I was a little boy. She used to give me sweets,” Alex said. “I’d make up reasons to run past her room just so she’d open the door and let me eat the humbugs in the little glass dish on the sideboard.”

“That sounds like her.” Tyler gave a fond smile. “A few years after I left Oxford, I was starting to make a success of my business – nothing like it is now, or even like Lytton AV was back then, but I was doing okay. Then Mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I asked her to come and live with me, so I could take care of her, but she wanted to stay in her own home – The Orchard.” He paused, his lips pursed and thin.

“I did understand; it was where she felt close to my father. So, in her final few weeks, I moved in there, to be with her. Things were strained between your father and me, but he was busy at work, so I didn’t see much of him. He agreed to me being there, of course, which was kind of him, given that we were no longer friends. You must have been about five at the time, and your mother was run ragged lookingafter you, and your brother, and the house, and my mother, and all the household servants. During those few weeks, Isobel and I became close once more.” He gazed into the candlelight, lost in thought.

“What happened?” Alex prompted.

“I fell in love with her all over again, and I believe she was in love with me, too. I asked her to leave your father and come away with me, but in the end, she felt she had to stay. I would have welcomed you and your brother – I wasn’t asking her to leave her children behind – but she didn’t want to hurt Noah or uproot you and Charles for the sake of her own happiness, so…” He trailed off. “That was the end of that.”

Alex sat back in his chair. There had been something honest, sincere, and ultimately very human about Tyler’s story. It was the story of grown-ups, with no good guys or bad guys, unlike the way his father had presented it.

“So, Alex – what’s the verdict?” Tyler asked quietly. “Do you believe my version of events, or your father’s?”

“I think both are probably true, in their own way,” he said slowly.

“You’re probably right. Anyway, it was all a long time ago.” Tyler shrugged. “I’ve moved on since then. She was a special lady, but it was just not meant to be. I’ve enjoyed the fruits of my success since then, and I can see now that being in a committed relationship at that time in my career would have held me back, although obviously it hurt when it happened. I never saw her again after that, and it’s all for the best.”

“What about my father’s other accusation – that you’ve only invested in my designs because you want to drive a wedge between him and me?” Alex demanded.

“That’s simply not true. Noah is being paranoid. He’s jealous of my success, so he assumes I have an ulterior motive for everything.”

“Then whydidyou invest in my designs? Because of my mother?”

“No,” Tyler insisted. “Your name only got you through the door. If your designs had been crap, that’s as far as it would have gone, but they weren’t, and that’s why we’re here. No other reason.”

Alex lapped up the praise. He wasn’t sure why it mattered that this man liked him, but it did. He began to relax and assumed a less hostile attitude.

As they ate dinner together, enjoying the delicious food and drinking a little too much of the expensive wine, he listened with enjoyment to Tyler’s stories about the various business deals he’d pulled off over the years. Tyler was entertaining, and his anecdotes were finely honed and often hilarious.

Over coffee, he felt mellow enough to open up and confide his problems fitting the Tyler engine into the frame he’d originally designed to house the Lytton Classic.

“Let me take a look,” Tyler said unexpectedly. “I might have a solution.” He stood up.

“What – now?”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because it’s the middle of the night, and I’m kinda drunk?” Alex said, with a hazy grin.

“So? I’ve had some of my best ideas while drunk.” Grabbing his arm, Tyler led him outside, gesturing to one of his indies to take care of the bill. Alex made a mental note to one day have enough money to pay servants to take care of all the boring stuff, too. It made life so much easier.

They flew back to the workshop and spent the next three hours poring over the engine of the fledgling AV.

Alex was acutely aware of the proximity of Tyler’s body as they worked. He could feel the lean strength of the man and liked watching his long, tanned fingers caressing the machine.

Tyler had a quick brain and understood engineering the way Alex understood design. Maybe it was the combination of the artistic and technical, or the fact they were both a little drunk, but the ideas flowed with exhilarating ease, and they had a breakthrough just before 3a.m.

“We’ve done it. Shit – we’ve done it!” Alex let out an excited whoop.

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