“Ah, music to my ears.” Tyler crouched down in front of him. “And in return, I will call you Alexander – none of this ‘Alex’ nonsense from now on. Now, you must have so many questions – the where, the why, the how, the what the fuck?” He smirked. “Let me provide some answers – shall we have a little ‘show and tell’?”
He clicked his fingers, and two of his bodyguards moved silently forward from their position by the door. They hauled Alex from the floor and deposited him on the sofa.
George Tyler clicked a remote, and Alex took a sharp intake of breath as his mother appeared in front of him, taking up one entire panel of the smartwall.
The footage must have been taken a year or so before her death, and she was dressed casually in tight jeans that hugged her long legs, and knee-high tan Hee-Bee boots, teamed with a thick pink sweater. She looked as beautiful as he’d ever seen her.
The Lighthouse, George Tyler’s house in Lewes, was clearly visible in the distance, and her long blonde hair was blowing in the wind as she smiled and blew a kiss at the camera, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Isobel West – the love of my life,” Tyler said.
“Isobel Lytton,” Alex corrected.
“She was Isobel West when I first knew her, and she couldn’t wait to get rid of the Lytton name and be so again,” Tyler informed him coldly. Then he turned, smiling, and said the words that made Alex’s blood run cold. “She and I were having an affair for two years before her death.”
Alex stared at him, shocked. “I don’t believe you.”
“I can understand the son not wanting to believe his mother had a secret life – hopes, dreams, and desires she wouldn’t share with her child – but it’s true.”
“You told me that whatever was between you and my mother was over, and you hadn’t seen her since I was five years old.”
“Newsflash – I lied.” Tyler gave a nonchalant shrug. “She told me that if I still felt the same way when you were sixteen, I should get in touch with her then – so I did. I waited eleven long years, and the day after your sixteenth birthday I sent her a big bouquet of roses – and my nym. She called me that afternoon.”
“You’re lying,” Alex said tightly, trying to remember how his mother had been during the final two years of her life. She had started wearing perfume and lipstick more often and disappearing on mysterious lunch dates with friends he’d never heard her mention before. He’d been at boarding school, but had caught glimpses of her life during his frequent suspensions and occasional expulsions.
Had she really intended to run off with George Tyler and leave his father? Or was she just chasing after her youth and the promise of some excitement in a life that had become humdrum and dull?
She spent most of her time ferrying Charles around to various races and training sessions and could hardly have seen much of his father during that time. Had they grown apart? Or had she been using Charles as an excuse to avoid spending time with Noah?
“We met up discreetly, and talked all the time.” Tyler clicked the remote, and a nanovid from his mother flashed up on the wall in front of them. It was dated six weeks before Charles’s gold medal win in Minneapolis.
“Darling – of course I’m not ignoring your messages,” his mother said, smiling but looking a little frazzled all the same. She was wearing a cocktail dress, her honey-blonde hair piled high on her head, and looked as if she was on her way out.
“I just haven’t had a second to call you in the past few weeks. With the Olympics only a few weeks away, there’s so much to do. I miss you, but you know how important this is to me, and I don’t appreciate all your scoldings.” She threaded her earrings into her ears as she spoke.
“Yes, I still love you and want to be with you, George, but you’ll have to be patient for a little while longer. Winning this gold medal is all I can think about at the moment – when it’s over, I’ll make it up to you. You’ve been wonderfully patient for a long time, darling, and I appreciate that. Alex is eighteen in a few months, and then you and I will be together – I promise.”
She blew a kiss at the camera, then glanced over her shoulder and disappeared. The former footage of her standing outside The Lighthouse resumed, and she stood there, her hair blowing in the wind, smiling at him.
“I don’t believe it,” Alex persisted stubbornly. “That’s a deep fake – it’s not her. Mum wasn’t going to leave Dad, leave Charles… leave me.”
His voice broke as he said that. Charles had always had his mother’s full attention, but had she really intended to give Alex only a few more months before walking out on him? He didn’t want it to be true.
“You know it’s her – it’s not a fake,” Tyler said flatly. “But I had it truth-marked anyway. You can’t fake a truth-mark.” He pointed to the little sigil at the bottom of the screen. “Isobelwasgoing to leave Noah. She was so nearly mine, and then she died, just two months before your eighteenth birthday. You killed her.”
Alex felt an old knot forming in the pit of his stomach. “It was an accident…”
“Don’t take me for a fucking idiot,” Tyler snapped. “I even acquired the medical data for myself, just to be sure.”
“What? How?”
“If you have money, there’s very little you can’t access.”
“I loved my mother, too,” Alex protested. “If I could change what happened, then I would. I adored her. I miss her every single day.”
Tyler wasn’t listening – he was pacing up and down in front of the smartwall, consumed by his own rage.
“I found out about Isobel’s death from the news. Can you imagine how that felt? News of her death flashed up on the screen – there was no call to my nym, no visit – nobody cared that I’d lost the love of my life. It was as if I was nothing to her.”