Page 154 of Fe
“Now we’re all here,” Cooper said, nodding at Ripley.
Theyknow each other?
Cooper was talking but Fen wasn’t paying attention. His father might be here, in the same room as him, but Ripley had come. Ripley, who he’d thought he might not ever see again, was sitting next to him, his thigh pressed against Fen’s.
“So what do you need?” Cooper was looking at Fen.
“Excuse me?” Fen realised he must have missed something.
“This has to stop,” Cooper said. “And the way that will happen is if no one talks to the press. Now or in the future. How can we make that happen?” He was sayingwebut he was staring at Fen, and Fen still didn’t understand.
The two lawyers and Bella crowded around Jack, whispering, then Fen was offered a folded piece of paper. He opened it up, looked at it, and let it drop from his fingers. Ripley picked it up. £750,000.Fucking hell.. Thiswas supposed to make up for his father not being there for him? Not coming to his ballet recitals? Not attending any birthday parties? Never being around at Christmas? All of the other million things he should have done?
“The offer is for you and your mother,” Cooper said. “We’ve been in touch with her and she said everything was up to you.”
Fen knew exactly how his mum would feel about this. She’d never pressed Jack for money, why would she want it now? Judd, Alexa and Helena hadn’t gone without things in the way Fen had. They’d not had to stop asking about going on trips because they knew there was no money for it. They’d not had to sleep in the corner of an office while their mum cleaned it. They’d not had to make do with clothes or have them mended until more could be afforded. Fen’s father had never asked about him, never worried about him and this money was supposed to put everything right?
“No,” Fen said.
“Fen!” Ripley put his hand on his arm and whispered in his ear. “Why don’t you take the money. It’s all you’re going to get from him.”
“No,” Fen repeated.
There was another huddle and another piece of paper presented. This time it said £1,000,000.
Cooper cleared his throat. “This is the final offer. Made without prejudice on the understanding both you and your mother agree to have no further claim on my client or his estate. Nor will you speak to any media organisation or post anything on social media or write a book about any member of the Miller family or your supposed relationship to them.”
Supposed?Fen felt his damaged heart break a little more. There would be no kintsugi repair. This was the end. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he’d always harboured a tiny sliver of hope that one day he’d meet his father and there would be a few kind words shared between them. Asorryin there somewhere. The arsehole wouldn’t even look at Fen, let alone speak to him.
“Well?” Cooper asked.
Fen pushed to his feet and slotted his arm into his crutch. “Go fuck yourselves. Especially you.” He looked straight at his father, who was still not looking at him, then walked out.
The lift door opened when he pressed the button. He didn’t even wait for Ripley but rode down on his own, those few private moments of grief were just for him.
I’m not for sale.He was sort of glad he hadn’t said that.Because I am, aren’t I?Even though all the money Ripley had given him would be returned to him. Fen half-wished he could turn the clock back so he’d never met him.
When he reached the lobby, he went straight to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall.Do not cry! Do not fucking cry!But it was hard not to. Ripley might have come, but Fen wasn’t good for him. The best thing he could do for Ripley was leave him. That hadn’t changed. Then he could become a King’s Counsel and forget he’d ever met Fen. He rubbed the tears from his face and froze when he heard someone come into the bathroom.
“Dad! Listen!” That was Judd.
“Not now.” His father.
Fen flushed the unused toilet and came out to the washbasin to wash his hands. He didn’t want to overhear himself being talked about. Nothing good would come of it.
“Are you okay?” Judd asked him.
Fen nodded. He was as far from okay as he’d ever been.
“Don’t talk to him,” his father snapped.
Why not? What have I done?Fen pulled a paper towel from the dispenser. His father finished at the urinal and zipped up. This wasn’t where he’d envisaged having this or any conversation with him, but it would be the only chance he got.
“I’m not signing a gag order,” Fen said. “But I won’t talk about you. I never have. What the press said about me was wrong. I didn’t go and see all your films. I didn’t have a scrapbook of you and your pictures. I’m not a gold-digger, nor a thief, nor have I ever taken illegal drugs. I tried to see you once, after Mum told me you were my father. I was ten. You were filming in Greenwich. I waited all day but you didn’t come. So I wrote to you and you sent my letter back telling me not to contact you again. I never have.”
His father washed his hands and didn’t look at him.
“A couple of times in my life, I wished you’d been there. When I danced in my first major role at the Royal Ballet School. I hoped you’d be proud of me. And when I was told I had an incurable disease, and I wouldn’t live as long as I’d have hoped, I’d have liked you to hug me. I was a mistake you wanted to ignore. Now I’m an adult who’s an inconvenience. I understand I’m nothing to you. But you should know you are less than nothing to me.”
