Wellstead - 2. WSD Chapter 2

After the accident, the law firm assigned someone to see to the business when required, and dismissed the receptionist. Everything had been put on hold, until I turned up on Friday afternoon. They were reluctant to listen to me, but when I mentioned Judge Andrew’s name, and with me being a QC, they quickly changed their minds.”

“Your father was a very clever businessman,” Mr Hills said. “Up till his sudden death he had built a net fortune in excess of $14 million, which I think is very good for a young family man with just a degree in business and economics. Your family home and the holiday home are all fully paid for, as are the two cars, one of which was involved in the accident. The part time housekeeper has been keeping the house in good order, and she has the family dog at her place,” Mr Hills said.

“Rufus. My dog’s name is Rufus. I remember him. He’s a golden Labrador retriever,” I said, interrupting him. I was overjoyed to have remembered something from before the accident. This was the start of many things coming back to remembrance.

Mr Hills continued, “The law firm has been dealing with all the bills for both houses. They have sorted the insurance for the wrecked car, and kept the house keeper, Mrs. Parkes, employed part time to look after the house. Now, changing tack, the main house and holiday house of the truck driver are valued at $1.2 million each, and they are currently on the market for those prices. What do you want to do with the money from those sales?”

I didn’t know what to do and thought about it for a while. Then I said clearly, “Sell the main house and place the proceeds into investments that my late father had. I want the holiday house to be made available for rental only; it’s not to be sold. All proceeds of the money earned from the rental are to go into a separate trust account for Mr Michael Jacobs, as his retirement fund. I think once he has served his time in prison, he will need a place to live and money to survive on. I don’t want him to have to suffer any more after he has come out of prison.”

Mr Hills looked a bit shocked at what I had just said. After looking at me carefully he could see that I meant what I had said, and went on. “If that is what you want, then I will happily do that for you, but I suggest that we not tell Mr Jacobs about it till he is released.” I nodded in agreement.

When my grandparents arrived from Scotland they spent a day recuperating from their long travels before coming to see me. Mr Hills had arranged a limo to collect them from the airport and take them to the house, where the house keeper had restocked the fridge and pantry with food, and made up the ground floor guest bedroom suite.

I had met my grandparents a number of times, but the last time was two years ago, on my ninth birthday, when my parents took me to Scotland to see their home. I spoke to them by telephone before they left Scotland to fly here to Australia. They reminded me that it had been two years since we last saw each other.

Unfortunately, I had very little memory of them and had to rely on what they were saying. They had sent an email to Mr. Hills that included a recent photograph of them, which Mr Hills showed me the day before they were due to arrive. I was very nervous when the morning came of their expected hospital visit. I was still having trouble walking with the injured leg, as I had some damaged nerves.

The physiotherapist said I was doing very well considering what I had been through. I was now able to go to the bathroom on my own, but had to use crutches to get there and back. I could get around a lot better now in a wheelchair too, but I was still getting tired out very quickly. Gramps and Gran were both still quite young, only in their mid-50’s.

Gramps until recently had still been working part time as General Practitioner in their little rural town, and Gran worked as his receptionist, both working mornings four days a week. They closed their practice to move to Australia to look after me, as I was their only grandchild.

For the next month, I had weekly bedside business meetings with Mr Hills, as well as twice-weekly visits from the psychologist and daily visits from the physiotherapist. Every morning after the physio, my grandparents would arrive with home-made biscuits and cake for morning tea, and they would stay until my lunch arrived at 12.30 pm. Then they would go off home to have their own lunch, before returning at 3 pm after I had had my afternoon nap, and staying till dinner time at 6 pm.

Gramps told me stories of what mischief my dad used to get up to in the little country town they were from, and about how he met this bonnie lass from Australia, when he was at university near London, and how they married in Scotland before moving to Australia to live. Gran told me stories about their home country of Scotland, of its seasons, how the fields changed colours with each season, and the wonderful people who lived in their community. Thinking of this made her start to weep a bit and I gave her a big hug to comfort her, knowing that she was missing her home where she had spent all her married life up until then.

Finally, the day came that I could go home. I was able to walk with only a very slight limp. I had a good amount of my energy back and I was no longer having regular nightmares of the crash, although I was told to expect to have them every now and then. Although my memory hadn’t fully returned, I did remember what my parents and little sister looked like, and what a happy family we were.

Three months after the accident I was finally going back home. I was very unsure how I would feel about it. What would it be like to be home but without my parents and my sister there, and the knowledge that I would never see them again? Gramps and Gran arrived in my dad’s car, and they suggested that we stopped off at the cemetery to visit the graves, to give me a chance to say goodbye to Mum and Dad and my little sister.

When I was there, I placed a small bunch of roses at the base of each plaque. With tears in my eyes, I told them I would miss them all very much, and would never forget them. When we arrived home, Mrs. Parkes was at the front door to welcome me, giving me a warm hug as I came to the door, carrying my suitcase. I had always liked her hugs. She was like a second mum to me and she always had warm freshly made cookies for me when I came home from school.

It had not occurred to me until just that moment that in the last three months I had not done any school work what so ever. I turned to Gramps who was just stepping into the house.

“Gramps, how come I haven’t been given any school work to do while I was in hospital?” I asked, concerned.

I followed him into the lounge and sat in my usual seat, a two-seater settee facing the large screen television just left of centre. Gramps sat in dad’s old chair, a leather recliner.

“Boy, I had discussions with your doctors and with Mr Hills, and we jointly decided that it was better you concentrating on getting better before worrying about your education. Having seen you have business meetings with Mr Hills each week, I can see that you are a very intelligent young man, and no doubt you have been spending time learning it from your father, so we felt that you would not be missing out on much during your recovery as you would soon catch up.”

I noticed that Gramps had started calling me “Boy” as a pet name from the first day they arrived. In some ways I didn’t mind it, but sometimes I found it annoying as it was a bit like he was putting me down. I think Gramps saw my face screw up in annoyance when he called me “Boy.”

“Grandson,” Gramps said, changing from the pet name after seeing the look on my face, “we were going to discuss it with you when you had settled back home. We didn’t want to rush you too much.

Your Gran and I have been thinking about this issue for the past week, and have come up with some options. One, you go back to grammar school, but only as a weekday boarder: you would be coming home on Friday evenings and go back Sunday evenings. Two, you study via correspondence here at home, where you can also learn all about business and law from Mr Hills.

He has agreed to spend 3 hours on Saturday afternoons teaching those subjects plus dealing with your own business work. Or, three, you go back to grammar school as a day boy, travelling to school by train each day and back, which means leaving home at 7.15 am each morning and arriving home at 4.45 pm each afternoon.”

After a bit of thought, I asked carefully, “Can I think about it, please, Gramps and Gran? I want to make sure I make the right decision, for the right reasons.” I was not sure how they would respond to this sort of answer, but Gramps just smiled.

“Grandson, you are getting to be more like your father every day. We are both very proud of you.”

I gave them both a hug, then picked up my suitcase and went upstairs to my bedroom, which I hadn’t seen in three months. It hadn’t changed one bit, if my memory served me correctly, in all that time. So far as I could see everything was just as I had left it all that time ago. After I had unpacked and put away all my clothes, I sat down at my study desk and looked out the window. I was trying to think about the decision I had to make about school, but nothing was coming up. My mind was just blank, so I went downstairs and went into my dad’s office.

Located at the back of the house overlooking the well-manicured gardens, it was a light and breezy room, and I had often spent hours there watching dad at work. I sat in the big chair at the desk. At eleven years old, I found the executive chair was still a bit too big for me, but it was very comfortable.

I looked out the window for a while. I watched the birds flitting down from the trees to the shrubs and back up to the trees. I heard the bees buzzing from flower to flower, and listened to the sound of the water cascading down the rapids of the water feature in the garden not far from the window. Finally, the matter of school came to my mind.

I really did enjoy school. It was challenging, but good results were achievable for me. I didn’t like sport that much, and only chose sports that did not involve too much contact. Instead of soccer or rugby, I chose hockey, and instead of cricket or tennis, I chose cross county running and swimming. I had a few friends, but none who were really close friends, as I liked to be on my own a lot, often going to the library to read or research for assignments.

I did like the atmosphere of the school and the companionship of boys as mates. I liked being part of a team, supporting each other in our chosen sports, whatever they were. I thought that if I dropped swimming then I wouldn’t have to be home very late. I wouldn’t mind the long journey each morning and afternoon, as I could study on the train each way.

I was always up at 6.30 am anyway. I just had to be more organised and not slack off on days when I wasn’t feeling so bright. There, the decision was made. I would be a day boy at grammar school, and I would ask Mr Hills for a 2-hour meeting each Saturday afternoon to discuss business matters.

That allowed me Saturday mornings for when I had to attend school sports events, as interschool matches were usually held then. It was now mid-November, only four weeks till the end of the school term and year. There was no point going back now, but I didn’t want to fall behind in my studies.

I decided I would ask about getting a tutor during the summer holidays, to allow me to catch up with what I had missed in the past three months of school. Gramps contacted the grammar school the next day and had a long discussion with the school administrator. It was agreed that I would return to grammar school in the new school year, moving up a grade along with my class mates provided I met certain conditions.

If I completed a set selection of assignments, completed the exams that my classmates were given, and passed each subject to the school’s satisfaction, then, yes, I would go up to year 7 with the rest of my classmates. I was informed that one of the middle school maths teachers was looking for part-time tutoring work during the summer holidays.

Gramps arranged for Mrs Dixon, a widow of some years, to come on Saturday morning to discuss possibly tutoring me so that I could catch up in my English, maths, science, history and social sciences classes. Two days later when Mrs Dixon arrived, I was finishing off an early business meeting with Mr Hills, as he had other business to deal with in the afternoon.

While she was waiting, Gramps explained to her that I had acquired my father’s interest in business, and that I had continued being involved in my father’s business and another business I had acquired more recently. Once Mr. Hills had left, Mrs. Dixon set me a number of short tests to see at what level I was at in each subject.

Two and a half hours later, I was feeling exhausted from all the reading and answering questions. Mrs Dixon said she had marked the first three tests, and that I had dropped down from an A to a B minus level in all three subjects marked so far, which meant that even without the marks of the two minor subjects, it was still a good pass.

I would be able to continue going to normal classes with my classmates in year 7 the next year, and I would not be required to do any intensive tutoring, just brushing up on some subjects. Gramps and Gran were very thrilled that I hadn’t fallen too badly behind in my subjects at school, and so it was arranged with Mrs Dixon that she would come over on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 8am till noon during the summer holidays, except for the Christmas / New Year week, which would be a week off.

Mrs Dixon said she would also be giving me a number of small assignments to be completed during the last four weeks of the school term, and also a number of small tests to see how I was progressing with catching up. Two days later at 7.30am, the doorbell rang. I had just come out of the mini gym room my Gramps had setup next door to the office, as I was continuing rehabilitation exercises to strengthen my legs, and, as Gran was busy in the kitchen, I went to answer the door.

No one was there but a large yellow envelope was lying on the floor of the veranda. I picked it up and found my name written on it in bold print. Gramps looked over the top of the newspaper to see what it was that I had.

Inside was a letter and a number of assignments. The letter read: “To Grant Wellstead, Study hard and look forward to seeing you back at school again. Regards, Mrs D”. After completing breakfast, I helped Gran with the dishes, and put the rubbish in the outside wheelie bin, before taking my school work to the office. I found it a more relaxing location to do my work, whether it be business or school, and I started working on the assignments.

The English assignment was to read the novel “I am David” by Ann Holm, and to write a minimum 2000-word review on the book. I thought that would be ok. I would go to the public library after lunch and find a copy of the book to loan to do that assignment.

The science assignment was to do a research study of “The life of an Insect”, also a minimum of 2000 words. I thought that while I was at the library I would check out some books on insects too. Also, I would go online before lunch to decide what insect I would research.

The social science assignment was to find three people of similar age, but from different social, ethnic and religious backgrounds, do a family history and a week in the life of each of those persons, then analyse and produce a report on the differences in the lives of all three people.