Chapter 15 - THE PHONE CALL FROM BRISTOL
The telephone rang at two in the afternoon, just as Maya was showing Thomas Bennett how to build a LEGO fortress on the living room rug.
Daniel answered it in the hall. Clare watched him through the open door. His posture was rigid at first, his shoulders tense, but as he listened, his expression settled into something quiet and immovable.
"No, Sarah," Daniel said, his voice remarkably calm. "I’m not coming back to Bristol tomorrow. And no, I don't think we should 'talk it over' next week."
There was a frantic squawking from the other end of the line.
"Because," Daniel continued, looking through the archway at Maya laughing with Sophie, "for the last two years, I’ve been living according to what was convenient for you and your friends. Last night, someone broke into my mother's home. She stood her ground while I was worrying about my career. I realized something, Sarah. If I can't protect the people who built me, I don't have anything worth building with you."
He paused, listening to another sharp burst of words.
"Have a good Christmas," Daniel said, and quietly hung up the receiver.
He stood in the hallway for a long moment, staring at the phone, then let out a deep, shuddering breath that sounded like a man shedding a coat of lead. When he turned back toward the kitchen, he caught Clare watching him.
"You didn't have to do that for me, Daniel," Clare said softly.
"I didn't do it for you, Mum," Daniel replied, walking over and wrapping his good arm around her shoulders. "I did it for me. I was turning into Julian Vance. Focused on status, prestige, money... forgetting that none of it matters if the house you go home to is made of ice."
Clare kissed his cheek, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Your father would have been proud of that sentence."
"He would have told me to stop whining and help with the washing up," Daniel laughed, wincing slightly as his bruised ribs flared.
May you like
"That too," Clare said, handing him a tea towel.
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