Sebastian Cork: Forget Me Not Read online

  Sebastian had felt like a baby who had just taken his first step. Before this moment he had been an A plus student, but he now understood that wasn’t enough to be the best he could be. He had to get out among the masses and learn humanism.

  He explained to Cynthia that he would be spending a lot of time researching and a little less time with her for the next few months and she understood. While other students were off on their holidays enjoying the surf and the summer sun, Sebastian spent much of his time helping out in the homeless shelters. He heard the sad stories of the less fortunate and the ingenious methods they would use to get by in their harsh world. He laboured in factories, which placed him out of his comfort zone and got a better understanding of the working class. He worked part time in bars and clubs that only the elite could afford to go to and listened without argument to conversations he didn’t agree with. Sebastian worked out ways of asking questions, so it didn’t seem irritating, intimidating or judgemental to the meek or those less educated than him. He was firm with the confident and down to earth with the average, but most of all he remembers fusing with humanity in such a way that he felt neither less, nor more than, those around him. People from all walks of life were more than willing to accept him, as he was them.

  Chapter 2

  A REALITY CHECK

  Sebastian is abruptly extracted from his fond memories by a very sharp elbow to the ribs and all he can hear is thunderous applause. Cynthia could be mistaken for a ventriloquist as she smiles and hisses without moving her lips, “Sebastian! The award! Get up!” He rises to his feet, heads to the podium and shakes the hand of the host, who precedes to hand him his award. It’s a crystal brain clasped in a bronze hand with his name and date etched into it at the base.

  Sebastian gives his long awaited speech and speaks fondly of his mentor who has since passed. He also expresses his appreciation for the acknowledgement his colleagues have bestowed upon him and then asks Cynthia to join him on stage. Sebastian puts his arm around her, pulls her close and looks at her with pride.

  “Here is my inspiration!” he proclaims. “As you know, much of my work with universities has me touring nationally and internationally and my wife Cynthia, who was an attorney for the police department, gave up her position 10 years ago; to not only be with me but to take care of all the bookings and paper work from her office at home. And, as competent as most of us academics seem to others, we’re mere dunderheads when it comes to making arrangements.”

  A laugh breaks out around the room, along with nods of agreement from the audience. Sebastian thinks he’s on a bit of a role so he continues on, “So as you can see, I not only have wonderful back up support but I also have the fringe benefits that come with it. I’m sleeping with my secretary.” He has a smirk on his face as everyone in the room roars with laughter, everyone except Cynthia that is, and she ploughs another elbow into Sebastian’s ribs. He thanks the audience again and takes his seat before he says something that may cause further injury to his not- so- well conditioned body. All in all it’s been a great night; good food, fine wine and, of course, the award.

  On the drive home Sebastian, wearing a solemn face, puts his hand on top of Cynthia’s and looks at her. “I know I’ve been a pain these past few months but in all honesty I’m grateful for all you have done for me over our time together, and that’s why I’m contemplating my retirement at the end of the year.” Cynthia remains stony faced, she removes her hand from under his, her brow and eyes lift without her moving her head.

  “We’ll talk about this when we get home.” There is a deathly silence in the back of the limo now. He has heard that tone in her voice many times over the years and knows to be patient for the moment.

  “Alright darling we’ll talk about it then. But either way this issue must be discussed.”

  As soon as they arrive back at the house he and Cynthia head up the stairs to their bedroom to change. He throws his jacket on the king size black wood bed, while she draws the olive green curtains on the four wall to ceiling French windows. Cynthia decides to take a shower while Sebastian sits back in his brown leather seat, with turned timber arms and legs, and puts his feet up on the small, square ottoman to remove his shoes and socks. By the time he has completed this task, she is drying herself in the adjoining bathroom. Cynthia emerges dressed in pink silk pyjamas with her hair wrapped in a matching towel. She notices that he is still wearing his pants, shirt and bow tie and on her way past takes his tux from the bed and hangs it up in the walk- in wardrobe. Tired of the bad feeling in the air, Cynthia decides to break the silence with, “The study?”

  He starts unbuttoning his shirt and replies without looking over at her, “Agreed! But I need to have a shower and change into something comfortable first.”

  She murmurs under her breath, “that could be midnight!”

  Sebastian moves his attention from his buttons and glares straight into her eyes, “Sorry?”

  “I said, that will be all right!”

  Cynthia heads downstairs with a look of dismay on her face. She has serious concern about Sebastian’s contemplation of retirement and has deep concern that without his work he will become a lost soul with a major identity crisis. There were times in their past when they had the opportunity to take time out from their careers and take a holiday, but a few days in he would become bored and they’d have to come home.

  She opens the large oak doors to the study, strolls over to the open fire place and turns the heater on. Sebastian had it custom made with ceramic logs and a licking flame that hypnotically dances and reflects off the yellow ochre walls of the study. Unless you were informed, you wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from the real thing. The arched slate surrounds and hearth, along with the brass poker, shovel and brush, hanging lifelessly from their stand, serves to enhance the illusion further. To the left of the fire is an enormous bookshelf that eclipses the wall and requires a ladder to reach the upper shelf. On the right wall is their liquor cabinet, with a built in fridge on one side and glass shelves filled with spirits and glasses on the other. Cynthia opens the cabinet and folds down the hinged bench inside it to pour her and Sebastian a drink.

  He eventually appears in the room wearing his maroon dressing gown and she hands him a glass of Bourbon and ice while clasping her sherry in the other hand. Once they are both settled in their brown leather recliners, Cynthia opens the conversation.

  “Ok, what’s this all about Seb?” Sebastian isn’t sure where to begin. He looks perplexed, as there has been so much going through his mind and he is finding it difficult to express what he’s feeling fluently. What’s worse is her question is so direct it’s left him nowhere to hide.

  “I’m tired honey; I’ve lost the passion for what I do, I’m getting close to 60, what more can I accomplish?” As usual whenever Cynthia is on a mission to set Sebastian straight, she’s quick to jump in, as she doesn’t want to hear where he’s going with his negativity or allow him to create his own victim. She had identified his extraordinary talents and had nurtured, pushed and encouraged him to be the best he could be. She had even retired early from her career to ensure she could give him her full support; so her response comes from both personal disappointment and out of concern for him.

  “Stop right there Seb! I’ve been patient up till now, but in the thirty five years we’ve been together I’ve never known you to be so negative, and you really need to reel that in. The other thing is, if you’ve lost the passion for your career then it would be wise for you to take some time off and consider what it is you want to do, but retirement at 60 is out of the question. Yes you can cut back your hours, or give up seeing clients all together while you continue to lecture; but you are far too young, and your mind to active to retire.

  He picks up his cool moist glass and sips on his bourbon, places it back on the small antique table next to his chair and crosses his arms, “As usual you’re right, and perhaps some time off may rejuvenate my thinking. I’ll make some calls tomorro
w and tell my clients I’m going to have five weeks off.”

  Cynthia breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at him, “Good! But don’t concern yourself with the calls in the morning; I’ll take care of that. You can have a well deserved sleep in.” The next half hour is spent relaxing and talking about some of the guests who attended the award. Cynthia finishes her sherry and can see Sebastian’s eyelids are getting heavy, “Come on old man, let’s hit the sack.” His eyes and brow lift as he places his glass on the side table.

  “That’ll be enough of the old man thank you. I haven’t reached sixty yet!” He slowly rises from the chair and, although he jests about his age there is no doubt he’s finding his body is not prepared to do what his brain asks of it, without some sort of resistance.

  Cynthia takes their glasses to the kitchen while Sebastian waits for her at the base of the staircase and they head upstairs together, arm in arm.

  The following morning is misty, with the sun finally breaking through. Sebastian sleeps soundly while Cynthia is up early making phone calls as promised. All of his clients have no hesitation in accepting the postponement of their appointments, except one, Tony Portola. Tony has been seeing Sebastian for the past four months and is distraught at the thought of not being able to see him. He pleads with Cynthia not to cancel his appointment but she remains firm with her approach, “I’m sorry Mr Portola, but unless it’s a life and death situation there is no way Mr Cork will be available for regular visits for at least another five weeks.”

  She’s taken aback by Tony’s unexpected declaration, “But this is life or death! My brother’s been murdered and I’ve got no one else to turn to. Please! Please help me!”

  Cynthia is very assertive when she needs to be, but he sounds extremely distressed and if she ignores his pleas and something happens, she’ll never forgive herself. She asks him to calm down and tells him to wait while she speaks to Sebastian. Cynthia heads up the stairs to the bedroom where she finds Sebastian still fast asleep. She works her way around the bed and opens the curtains. The room transforms from dimness to radiance within seconds, “Sebastian! Wake up,” she says; still panting from the run up the stairs. Cynthia shakes his shoulder vigorously. “Wake up!” He rolls over to face her.

  “What is it?” He groans still half asleep and squinting as he holds the back of his hand in front of his eyes to keep the light out.

  “I’ve got Tony Portola on the phone and he says his brother has been murdered.”

  “Ah shit!” he replies as he bounces out of bed. He grabs his dressing gown from its hook and races downstairs.

  Chapter 3

  TONY AND FRANK’S STORY

  Tony and his older brother Frank were sent from the seaside city of Palermo in Italy after their parents had been tragically killed in a car accident. He was eight and Frank ten when they were orphaned and, although they were closer than most brothers, they showed very little resemblance, as one was a tall wiry build and the other short and plump. Back then their only living genetic relative was their father’s wealthy brother Carlo and he didn’t hesitate to send for them when he received the tragic news.

  Carlo was a good person but their Aunt Gina was quite the opposite and as time passed she began to despise both the boys. She already had four boys of her own, and was barely coping with them, but to have two more that weren’t her own was unacceptable in her eyes. Carlo was a very busy man building a corporate empire and the company he had built from the ground up required him to be hands on. He knew he couldn’t be around the family as much as he’d like to be, so he would give Gina additional money so she could take the kids on outings or buy them things for their enjoyment. He also hired a cleaner to come in once a week to take some of the pressure off her. What he didn’t know, was Gina was putting most the money she was given into a private bank account and the money she did spend on the kids was only going to her own, while Tony and Frank were left home alone.

  Whenever Carlo wasn’t around and she was feeling fed up with things, she would fly into fits of rage and beat the two boys with an electrical cord just to help her release the tension she was enduring. Carlo was a very easy going man when it came to family as he and his brother had come from a strict home and suffered at the hands of his alcoholic father after his mother had died at a young age. Beatings were a regular event in his household and it had left him traumatised. As he grew, his father began to fear him and the beatings stopped. He could have left home earlier but he wanted to be sure his younger brother was safe without him being there. Once he was old enough to leave school and work, Carlos headed overseas to make a new life for himself. He met Gina and no longer felt alone in a strange country. Her family had come from Catania, which is also on the island of Sicily, and after a whirlwind courtship they were married. He worked hard and never asked for much and the only condition he placed on his wife was the children were never to be hit.

  As months past after the boys arrival, Carlo had begun to feel uneasy about the way Gina had been speaking to them, and how Tony would cringe when she glared at him for the smallest mistakes. Although he had been easy going he was also a very shrewd business man. Those that had tried to take advantage of his good nature and believed he was blind to what was going on around him would soon be dealing with the repercussions of his wrath. As usual Carlo’s instincts were right, and it wasn’t long before he witnessed the hate she had for the boys when he came home early from work one day and heard them screaming in the kitchen.

  He quietly listened at the door and heard Gina skirling at them, “If you mention one word to your uncle about this I swear I’ll kill the both of you!” Carlo had heard enough, he’d stormed into the room and yelled at her,

  “What’s going on?” Both the boys, who were arched over the kitchen chairs with their shirts up, ceased their screaming immediately. He could see the welts on their backs from where the cord had struck their delicate skin over and over again. He looked at them with anguish and had an overwhelming feeling that he had failed his brother. But more importantly, an indescribable guilt sat heavily in his gut for not protecting these two innocent young children.

  The more he had looked at them, the more he’d shaken with a rage like he had never experienced before. At that moment his emotional silence merged with raw fury and he screamed at her, “What the hell are you doing, you fucking crazy bitch!” Carlos had instinctively snatched a plate that had been sitting on the kitchen bench, and the adrenalin had pumped so uncontrollably through his body, that he had just mindlessly thrown it at her. When it hit her in the arm, she had dropped to the floor squatting, shaking and tightly covering her head with her hands. He had thrown another, which just missed and smashed into the wall behind her. “How could you treat them like this?”

  When he threw the plates it had eased the rage minimally, but he knew he had to get it under control when he saw how his anger had frightened the boys who had huddled together in the corner. At the time Carlo had realised he needed to walk away from the situation. His heart was fluttering and his voice had lost its firmness, while the rest of his body felt like jelly. His eyes began to well as he looked at the boys. He gently instructed, “Come on kids, pack your bags, we’re leaving!” When Gina heard this she had hurled herself forward on the floor at his feet and grabbed his legs.

  With tears streaming down her face she had clutched his pants, sobbing like a rejected child and begging, “Please Carlo, you don’t understand! It’s been so hard for me trying to look after all of them! You know I’d never hurt anyone, you know that Carlo. I love these beautiful boys, I’m just not thinking straight. Please, please Carlo!” Her sobbing had eased and she had pulled herself to her knees using his pants like a climbing rope. “I understand now and I promise it won’t happen again!” She had turned to the boys while still clinging to one of Carlo’s legs with one hand and pleaded, “I am so sorry boys. You forgive me don’t you?” Carlo looked at the boys, awaiting their answer and didn’t notice Gina’s eyes glaring at the
m in rage while she moved her thumb across her throat like a blade. Tony’s face had gone pale with fear and he was quick to respond. Fearing further repercussions from his Aunty, he had raced across the room and attached himself to Carlo’s other leg.

  “Please forgive her Uncle Carlo! It was our fault, we were being naughty, we shouldn’t have done what we did!” Frank had remained silent. His eyes had bulged, chest had heaved and he stared at her with all the hate and contempt he could muster.

  When it had come to family, Carlo had been a forgiving man to the point of weakness at times, but on that occasion he had been confronted and confused about making a decision that could have torn his family to shreds. A frustrated and confused expression had washed over his face and it had been with extreme apprehension he replied “I want you to know Gina, this better have been a once off and I’m telling you, there’ll be no second chances; because if I ever find out that you’ve done this again, there’ll be hell to pay!” She’d pulled herself to her feet and hugged him while he had stood there motionless as though his spirit had been sucked clean out of him, “no, never my darling. I promise it won’t!”

  After that day Carlo rightfully had doubts and kept a close eye on things. He would drop in unexpectedly from work during school holidays or make out he’d forgotten something, just to ensure she knew she could be caught out at any time. He’d also decided to set up a trust fund for his nephews’ education and another very tidy sum was put in an account for when they turned 21 without Gina knowing about it. The boys had only been living with their uncle for two years when he had been walking to his office one day and was fatally struck by a car. There were no witnesses and the driver of the vehicle was never caught.