A Family Affair

Alastair was taking a well-needed break after erecting the last of the gazebos. Leaning on the balcony rail of his favourite spot at his parents’ mansion, he took a long, slow drag of his cigar as he surveyed the gardens below him.

His elevated position gave him a stunning view of the grounds, and a perfect vantage point from which to scrutinise his efforts and to satisfy himself that he’d chosen a sensible configuration for the temporary shelters. His mood lifted further as he watched the long, verdant strips of the immaculate lawn begin to brighten.

The sun must have slipped out from behind the cloud that had been obscuring it, rolling back the shadows that had previously diluted the vibrant colours of the party decorations and the surrounding foliage.

“Yes, stay there,” he told the golden orb as he tilted his head skyward, squinting into the dazzling light. Charcoal clouds had been threatening rain earlier that day, and he’d been hopeful that the unpredictable nature of the British weather wouldn’t hamper the celebrations.

After investing so much of his time preparing for a weekend of festivities, he was keen for everything to go to plan. Of course, he had contingency plans in the event of rain, but he’d rather not implement them. This weekend marked his parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary celebrations, and, after a good deal of time and effort had gone into making it special, he wanted it to be fun for everyone.

Family members that he hadn’t seen in years were expected to arrive within the hour, including aunts, uncles, cousins and their young children - some of whom he’d not had the opportunity to meet before.

The purr of a car engine caught his attention, and he turned to see a familiar metallic blue Jaguar meandering up the long driveway. Alastair puffed out a single smoke ring as the ostentatious car parked outside the front entrance to the mansion, and the driver opened its doors to let the passengers out. He could see his sister, Beatrice, the oldest of the three siblings, step into the sunlit courtyard as the driver moved to the rear of the vehicle to unload their luggage. Bright and ambitious, she’d always been an overachiever. Her remarkable work ethic and high standards had undoubtedly been one of the reasons why she’d recently been made head of Royce-Clarke Private Banking, which had made her the first woman to ever be at the helm of the family empire. Their father was fiercely proud of his daughter for taking over with such dedication and diligence, although he didn’t say it as often as Beatrice would have liked.

Having clambered out of the car behind their mother, Beatrice’s two children, Emily and Casper, now seemed to be arguing. Alistair couldn’t hear what it was about from this high up, but the scene reminded him that it must be tricky for his older sister to be trying to balance her family life with such a demanding job.

Even though Alastair’s niece and nephew were now young adults, he hoped that the provision of some popular garden games might alleviate the tension and take their minds off their squabble. Meanwhile, Daniel, Alastair’s beanstalk of a brother-in-law, appeared to be trying to coordinate the baggage distribution with the housekeeper, Mrs. Perkins. The older woman had been with the family for nearly twenty years and had become the beating heart of the Royce-Clarke Estate, which was more commonly known to the locals as Mossmere House.

Alastair knew that he should probably go to the entrance hall and greet his sister and her family, as well as ensure that he was available to help the other visitors who would be arriving imminently. But first, after working tirelessly all morning to coordinate the set-up of this lavish affair, he decided he was going to take a few moments to enjoy the peace before the impending discord.

And so, clinging to the last few minutes of solitude that he was likely to have for the next two days, he basked in the view over the tranquil estate, savouring his cigar until it burned out.

Hugo hung his head out of the car window and felt the wind whip his long blond hair into his river blue eyes. The gravel driveway spat up stones under the car’s wheels as he stared in wonder at the enormous estate.

He’d only ever seen these old English country homes on TV, and now he was going to be staying in one for the whole weekend. Mossmere House was owned by Edmund’s family - Hugo was not ready to call his new stepfather ‘Pappa’ yet.

Edmund had dropped into Hugo’s life after his mother, Manon, had brought him home one night. Mr Royce-Clarke still pretended that they had met in a bar, which was probably what he’d also told his family.

His mother had told Hugo the truth, however.

The three of them had only recently left their regular lives in Amsterdam for a tiny apartment in London. Hugo had not been aware of the extent of Edmund’s family’s wealth until the moment they arrived at the gates of the estate.

He lurched forward as Edmund swore under his breath and hit the brakes. Three little children had dashed in front of the car out of nowhere, followed closely by an angry mother or nanny, Hugo couldn’t be sure.

It seemed that most guests had already arrived. There were a few Range Rovers, a blue Jaguar and … was that the new Bentley Continental GT?

Hugo had a thing for cars, and from the moment he scrambled out of their secondhand Vauxhall, he couldn’t help but peer through the windows of the luxury vehicles.

“Hugo!” Manon hissed before scolding her son in Dutch. “Can you please help Edmund with the suitcases?”

Edmund instead decided to indulge his new stepson and let him take a seat behind the wheel of the Bentley.

“It’s a heavily armoured car,” Edmund said with a conspiratorial wink.

Hugo stared at Edmund in awe, wondering if there was actually more to the Royce-Clarke family than his stepfather was letting on.

Then, out of nowhere, a woman in uniform knocked on the window. Edmund took one look and clambered out of the car.

“Mrs. Perkins!” he cried enthusiastically, giving the woman a hug.

She immediately went stiff as a board, but a faint smile told Hugo that she was deep down happy to see Edmund, too.

Hugo and his mother were introduced to the executive housekeeper before making their way into the foyer.

Pandemonium reigned!

As the entrance hall started to get crowded, Alastair considered that perhaps it would have been a good idea to stagger the arrival times of the guests.

Still, Mrs Perkins was doing a fabulous job of organising the visitors such that they were directed to drop off their baggage in their rooms before making their way to a drinks reception on the extensive patio, overlooking the lake.

Suddenly, his eye caught that of his brother, and he grinned.

“Eddy!” he called out as he squeezed his way through a variety of family members, trying not to stand on anyone’s feet as he did so. “How the devil are you?” he asked as he approached his sibling and gave him a warm bear hug.

It had been four years since he last saw him. They’d not had much contact during that time, and he was genuinely excited that he and his new family were able to attend.

“God, I’ve missed you, Al!” Edmund said, squeezing his younger brother tightly.

They stood frozen in the hug, as if time had stood still.

“I’d like you to meet my wife, Manon, and my stepson, Hugo,” Edmund said once Alastair let him go.

Manon enthusiastically gave her husband’s brother three kisses, as was customary in the Netherlands.

Alastair was pleasantly surprised by Manon’s warm engagement. He’d been aware of a few derogatory comments made by his parents and sister regarding his new sister-in-law’s motives for marrying Edmund, so he had, admittedly, been somewhat guarded about meeting her.

However, his first impression was surprisingly positive. He endeavoured to reciprocate the customary kisses as he said her name, but his lack of familiarity with the custom left him a little self-conscious about the clumsy manner in which he felt he conducted himself.

After apologising for narrowly managing to miss kissing her on the lips, he turned to the youngest member of the party, who appeared to be in his early twenties.

Hugo seemed a little shy and uneasy as he mumbled his own name under his breath, even though it had already been given.

Alastair noticed that he pronounced his name differently from how one would in English.

“Hugo,” Alastair tried to reproduce the vowel sounds that he thought he’d heard as he gave the young man’s hand a firm shake in return.

However, despite being well-travelled, he recognised he was no good with accents other than his own, and that his attempt had been delivered with more of an English inflection than a continental one. Still, despite his phonetic ineptitude, it was only polite that he finished his greeting.

“It’s so good to meet you both,” he nodded, trying to cover his embarrassing blunders with a smile. “Can I perhaps help you with your bags and show you to your room? You can see how chaotic things are in this foyer, and I wouldn’t want you to be kept waiting for one of the housekeeping staff when I could be making myself useful.”

He hoped they would take him up on the offer. It had been too long since he’d seen Edmund, and it would be nice to be in his company a little before the cocktail reception.

“After you,” Edmund said enthusiastically. He was grateful to be taken out of the hustle and bustle.

“Dad has put you and your lovely wife in the Attila room,” Alastair said as he escorted them up the stairs.

“Well, I guess he can’t possibly be that pissed off with me if he’s put me in my usual room,” Edmund said with a chuckle.

Unsure what to make of his brother’s statement, Alastair turned to Manon to explain that all the guest rooms were named after historical conquerors. Hugo found it rather pretentious, but then everything about the place appeared to be pretentious.

“All the grandchildren have been put in the fully repurposed and newly renovated staff quarters,” Alastair said. “But Dad decided to put Hugo in the Napoleon room because it’s his first time in Mossmere House.”

“Well, that’s bloody decent of him,” Edmund acknowledged with a smile. “I shouldn’t forget to thank him.”

Alastair stopped in front of a door and handed Manon her suitcase.

“You know your way around, Eddy,” he said. “Let me take Hugo to his room. Mum and Dad expect us downstairs at four for drinks.”

“Cheers, Al,” Edmund said, giving his brother another hug.

Alastair escorted Hugo to his room and gave him a quick overview of the estate. As Hugo carefully listened, he couldn’t help but notice that Alastair’s aura made his skin tingle. There was a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’ about him that Hugo found immediately intriguing ... sexy even.

On the other hand, Hugo had always had an eye for older men, and Alastair wasn’t blood related, so perhaps he could flirt with him a little? Hugo knew he was attractive and often used his looks to get attention from both guys and girls whenever he was bored.

Alastair reminded Hugo a lot of a guy he’d met at Sander’s party. The man was pushing forty, but he really knew his way around guys a lot younger. Hugo had gone home with him that night and had the best sex of his life.

“This is your room, Hugo,” Alastair said, opening a door into a huge chamber. “Once again, welcome to Mossmere House, and don’t forget drinks start downstairs at four.”

Hugo found that he liked the way Alastair mispronounced his name. The combination of the Englishman’s sonorous voice and British accent had an allure that made him want to hear him say it over and over again.

“Thanks,” the blond acknowledged, purposely avoiding eye contact.

Hugo was surprised that his bedroom was completely modernised and didn’t have a musty four-poster bed, nor a bathroom with leaky taps.

But it did have a deep bathtub on clawed feet!

Doors with large windows opened onto a balcony overlooking the gardens and the forest beyond. The view was simply stunning.

Below, the catering company was setting up for the cocktail reception. A guy with a dark coiffure was shouting orders at a flock of serving staff. It seemed that the catering business worked the same in England as it did back home in Holland.

“No!” Hugo berated himself.

Holland was no longer home; he lived in England now. His mother was finally happy, and it was all thanks to Edmund. If becoming part of this odd family was the price to pay, then so be it.