Immortal Guardian - Part 1

  Maxwell Linden was trying to be patient as he sat in his friend’s study. Nora had just left after serving tea and stirring the fire in the ornate hearth. He sighed and picked up his cup for a sip. Never take a friend as a client his father used to say. Maxwell had said that as well, on many occasions. It was a rule he had followed religiously... until now. He found himself wishing for something stronger than tea in this cup.

A stack of papers waited on Vincent’s desk – papers that Maxwell knew would bring fresh arguments. He must bring his friend to see sense! The tenacity that Maxwell had admired in him as a colleague was just plain stubbornness in a client. If the doctors were right, Vincent didn’t have the luxury of time that he seemed to think he did.

  A commotion in the foyer broke into Maxwell’s thoughts. Nora (or Mrs. Welford as Vincent called her) was preparing Clara for school. Odd that Vincent hadn’t returned from his walk yet, he must be moving more slowly than usual this morning. That did not bode well.

  As Maxwell rose to begin pacing, he heard a delighted squeal from Clara and his friend’s low voice through the study doors. The sounds were too muffled to make out words, but he could well imagine what transpired. Clara adored her father. Maxwell cleared his throat and reached for his handkerchief – some dust seemed to have assailed his eyes.

  Some moments later, Vincent Wolf entered his study. Maxwell stood by the hearth, lips compressed and fingers drumming on the mantle.

  “You are early, my friend!” Vincent said with exaggerated gusto, offering his hand.

  Maxwell stared levelly at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and then the offered hand. “You know very well that you are late, Vincent.”

  Vincent made an exaggerated wince as he lowered himself carefully into the second chair by the fire. He poured from the teapot into an empty cup before settling back with the cup cradled in both hands, as though trying to warm them from the heat of the tea. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my good man?”

  Maxwell threw up his hands in frustration. “Vincent! My friend! When will you begin to take your situation seriously? I’m doing my best to help you, but I can scarcely accomplish anything without some cooperation on your part!” He sat down heavily and leaned forward. “These arrangements must be in place before…” he cleared his throat again, “before it is too late.”

  Vincent just looked at him for a long moment before his eyes shifted away. Leaning stiffly forward to set down his cup, he shook his head and glanced back at his friend. “Max, I can’t sign that paper. I’ve thought about it; agonized over it. I’ve lost sleep from it. I still don’t see why Mrs. Welford…”

  “She’s an employee, Vincent! The courts would never uphold that,” Maxwell broke in. “She isn’t kin – your cousin’s claim would take precedence. It probably wouldn’t even go to a hearing! You know what Clara go through if you don't name a guardian. And Olvér will gain custody in the end anyway. You should understand all this. How can you have forgotten your trade so quickly?”

  “Wishful thinking, I suppose…” Vincent muttered. “Max, give me until tomorrow. I will see Uri tonight and...”

  “Uri! You can’t be serious, man!” Maxwell sprang to his feet. “The best doctors in London have examined your case. The best, Vincent! How could this Uri have anything to add?” He stopped his frenzied pacing and turned toward his friend. In a calmer tone he added “You have to face reality some time. Clara needs a guardian. You can’t cheat death, and Nora isn’t acceptable...”

  “Nora has been like a mother to her!” Vincent interrupted. “She is the only one I would trust. Are a father’s wishes so trivial as to be swept aside over a technicality? Olvér is not a fit guardian! You know as well I do why he would even contemplate stirring his great bulk to fight this. He’s a greedy bastard, and always has been.”

  “I don’t see any other choice. Unless there’s another living relative that you haven’t told me of. No? Then it seems we’re stuck with Olvér.”

  “Just give me until tomorrow, Max. Just until tomorrow.” Vincent’s eyes were pleading. “If there is no help from Uri by then, I’ll sign your papers.”