Work Text:
James & Ruby's Apartment
He told Ruby about the decision over the weekend. It was short, clipped and to the point, something said over morning coffee and bagels.
"I want to end Beaufort's funding for the Alice Campbell program."
Ruby doesn't say anything at first. She merely sets her coffee cup down. Her eyes widened in surprise.
James continues, "I requested my team find several other organizations with similar objectives and less overhead. The rent alone for three floors in downtown London is more money than most organizations can dream about."
James hands Ruby the folders with the other organizations: their goals, their work, their financial information. Ruby looks through each of them. She reads paragraphs, reviews charts, smiles at photos. Ruby wants to say something, defend the woman or the institution. Instead, she just keeps reading and allows his words to settle in.
Ruby will always defend those who don't deserve it, those who have betrayed her or done things that are unforgivable. It's one of the reasons he loves her so much. Her grace, her ability to forgive. James has benefitted from that himself.
Still, Ruby did everything for Alice Campbell out of the goodness of her heart. In turn, Alice Campbell threw her under the bus. Worse, Ruby almost lost her chance at an academic scholarship because of the broken promises. James may not speak about it often, but he sure as hell hasn't forgotten what Ruby almost lost.
Ruby swallows slowly and looks up. Slowly, she pushes her chair back and then takes a few steps towards him. James looks into her eyes, trying to find whether she wants to fight him on this. Then all at once,Ruby wraps her arms around him, burrowing herself in his arms. He doesn't rush her, don't make her say whatever is on her mind. Instead he just holds her and kisses her forehead.
Eventually she speaks, softly. Her breath is on my neck. "Thank you for always being on my side."
I smile, pulling back every so slightly. I rest my nose against her, rubbing gently. "Always."
****
Maxton Hall
Director's Office
Headmaster Lexington looks out into the courtyard. He was happy here at Maxton Hall. It was a good pay, respectful position. He assumed he'd retire here.
Then three months ago. a colleague from Oxford University called. There was a position open. Experience in administration, a requirement, naturally. Experience with wealthy donors, students, budgeting. All of it, Lexington had in spades.
He'd done exemplary in the interviews. The Committee essentially told Lexington he'd have an offer by the end of the week.
Then the phone call came. Short and concise from the head of the hiring committee, "Sorry but we've decided to go with another candidate."
It had been a blow, a shock to the system. The next day,his friend called, "One of your former students laid pressure on the committee, some big wig. The gent made it clear that all money to the University and its scholarships would be gone if you were hired."
"What? Which student? I have no idea why anyone would say that."
The gentleman on the phone sighed, "He brought up the scandal a few years back, said you promoted a teacher who was having an affair with a student. The donor said you treated scholarship students as second class citizens. He went further, he said that you did a poor job of investigating and you lacked character as it relates to appropating punishment.
Lexington lets the realization hang in the air.
*****
Parkson, McDonald, & Porcher Attorneys
8th Floor Office
"Lydia and I need to speak privately," Graham insists as he stands up from the conference table.
"No," James says calmly as he stays seated.
Graham scoffs and tells his attorney it was time for them to go.
James's voice cut through the air like a knife, "You leave, we are done with negotiations. Lydia will request full custody of the children. Our attorneys will make you look like a pedophile who preyed on a child. They'll hear how you forced a scholarship student to cover up your affair and then got the same student expelled to try and cover up your disgusting sexual proclivities."
Graham gasped, "my WHAT?"
James stands up slowly, adjusting his jacket and tightening his tie. One of the Beaufort attorneys tries to interrupt, calm the air. James continues, "I'll make sure no one hires you, not a college, not a university, not even tutoring service . A petrol station will throw your resume in the bin. The Court won't give you more than a few hours every month, if you are lucky. No overnights or vacations."
"That's ridiculous," yells Graham's attorney.
James doesn't bother replying and instead continues to stare at his former teacher. Lydia stands behind him with tears in her eyes.
James remains calm, "Walk out that door without signing this agreement and you'll regret it for the rest of your life. You thought my Father was scary? My father didn't give a shit about Lydia or me or the children."
Lydia's tears fall openly now. Two of the attorneys stand by the door, unsure whether to flee or enjoy the show.
James continues, "Lydia and the children are the most important things in the world to me. I'll do whatever I have to do to protect them."
Everyone stands around for a moment, no one really moving or speaking. Graham grabs a pen on the table and picks up the proposed consent order. He signs and shoves the papers towards his lawyer. Lydia lets out a gasp of relief and wipes the tears that fall.
As Graham leaves, he turns back to James, "I hope Ruby realizes sooner rather than later what an asshole you are."
James's eyebrow shots up. Ruby is aware of all of this. She was the first one Lydia told about the pregnancy, the first one to hear their heartbeats, to feel them kick. Ruby was in the delivery room. She's their godmother, their aunt in all but name. She's their Rue-Rue. She loves those kids as much as I do.
Graham swallows as James continues, "When Ruby found out you filed for primary custody of the children, she gave me carte blanche."
Graham and his attorney walk out the door and James shoots a quick text, "He signed."
****
761 Rose Lane
Whitby, England
Bernard Harris struggles to swallow. This felt surreal, as though he was still dreaming somehow. Fraud? Inducting breach of contract for pecuniary gain? Criminal prosecution? Lawsuits? All he did was offer a very fair price for the bakery in Gormsey. The seller, that Smith guy, was more than happy to get it off his hands.
Perhaps it was more than fair. 15% over market value. Sure, Bernard may have received a small commission for the "help." 10,000 pounds in a bank account for the discretion, another 15,000 for the use of his name. Then of course he got the building and business. Sure, there may have been some odd circumstances, but illegal?
The crown prosecutor sits at the end of the table, a group of other attorneys on either side. Bernard's attorney, some bumbling idiot fresh out of law school sits beside him.
"The Crown would consider a deferment in prosecution...."
Bernard hears bits and pieces. "rid himself of the property", "not profit from the criminal conduct", "sell at the cost paid and return all profits".
The air gets thicker, the ability to swallow, harder.
****
Oxford University
Jolley Residential Hall
Dorm Room 229
Keiran re-reads the email for the fifth time.
"Congratulations. You have been selected as the recipient of Oxford's University scholarship for your excellence in academics and your high moral character."
Again, Keiran read the numbers listed. Tuition and dorm room paid. Additional stipend for living expenses. Study abroad approved for Japan. I hadn't even applied for any such scholarship. Certainly, I never mentioned to anyone at Oxford about my desire to go to Japan."
A quick google search showed that no such scholarship seemed to exist. Keiran applied to every grant and scholarship when he first applied and there was nothing about "moral character". Besides, he barely spoke to anyone except his professors and the friends from Maxton Hall.
It's a slow realization.
Then he looked toward the framed picture on his cramped desk. The Party Planning Committee on graduation day. Straight to the left of Ruby Bell was Beaufort. Once his sworn enemy and now something akin to a friend.
Beaufort did this. Somehow? For some reason? Not sure why he thinks I deserve it, but I’ll forever be grateful.
And as a thank you, I’ll never speak about it.