Chapter 19: Birthday Surprise

My eighteenth birthday fell on a Saturday but I didn’t want to celebrate even though I know that you’re supposed to go all out on your eighteenth—becoming an adult and all that. There’s a ritual that you’re supposed to observe where you walk into a pub and enjoy drinking your first legally purchased pint of beer at the bar. As compared to drinking all the beers you’d purchased illegally in the same pub at a table or standing by the fruit machine (which you also weren’t supposed to use until you were eighteen).

But my eighteenth, like the two previous years, only served to remind me of what I didn’t have—my parents.

My fifteenth birthday had fallen during the week, but I persuaded my parents to go out for a meal that weekend and let me have a party with a small group of my friends at the house. They agreed as long as Vicky agreed to stay with me. I wasn’t about to say no to that, she was pretty cool for an older sister and besides, a couple of my friends had a crush on her.

When the police showed up asking to see me and Vicky, I thought they’d come to tell us to turn the music down because the neighbours were complaining. The music stopped pretty damn quick after they told us what had happened.

I can’t tell you how many times I wished I hadn’t had that dumb party.

So instead of going out to get legally drunk with some mates, I had a quiet day with Clarissa—strange that my girlfriend would be the one person who genuinely understood how I felt—and then went to work in the evening. But the next day, Will Brown invited Vicky and me to his house for lunch. His girlfriend cooked, which was a welcome relief for Vicky I’m sure. Will opened a bottle of Champagne and even allowed his daughter to have some as they toasted my milestone.

After we’d polished off a fabulous dessert, Will said, “Paul, why don’t we leave the girls to clear up and go through into the lounge.”

“Dad,” Sophie whined, “that’s, like, so unfair. Why do I have to help clear up? I, like, always have to clear up.”

“Because I said so. Besides, I need to talk to Paul alone.”

“It’s okay, Soph,” I said, “After we’re done you can show me those photos on your laptop you were telling me about.” She beamed at that.

Will led me into the lounge and poured us both a glass of something from his drinks cabinet. Handing one glass to me he said, “Eighty-five Glenrothes. One of the best Scotch whiskies money can buy, if not the best. I picked it up on a trip to Aberdeen a couple of years ago. Apparently, there are less than a thousand bottles left now.” He held his glass high. “Your good health, young man.”

I raised my glass and said, quietly, “Good health.”

I watched him sip from the glass and copied. I have to say, I’d never tried anything quite like it. It burnt my throat yet warmed my insides all at the same time. It was as if someone had set my mouth alight and tried to douse the flames with warm chocolate syrup. And it left me feeling ... Pleasant. Calm.

“I have something for you,” Will said after a second sip. He went over to his desk in the corner of the room and took a box from one of the drawers. He handed the box to me and said, “Open it.”

I’d already opened one very generous gift from him, so I was a little surprised and a little embarrassed at the second one. The small black box wasn’t wrapped and bore only one marking—the logo of a jeweller in Westmouth. I opened the box and gasped.

“This is...” I looked up at Will. “It’s Dad’s watch. How did you...?”

“Actually, it was your Great-Grandfather’s watch originally.”

“My...? But...?” I shook my head and stared at the watch.

“Let’s sit down,” Will said. “I think it’s about time you found out a bit about who you actually are.”

He topped up our glasses and we sat on the sofa, me still holding my father’s, sorry, my Great-Grandfather’s watch in my hand.

“That watch,” Will said, gesturing to my hand, “was given to your great-grandfather on the occasion of his eighteenth birthday by his grandfather, Mr William Phipps.”

I snapped my head up to look at him. “Phipps? As in...?”

“As in William Phipps the co-founder of what is now Liddington-Phipps Textiles Limited, yes.”

“So he was my...” I thought for a second to work it out. “Great-great-great-grandfather?”

Will nodded. “William Phipps had three daughters and no sons, which is why the name disappeared from Micester. The youngest daughter married one of the managers at her father’s factory, George Robertson.”

“Wow. I never knew.” I looked at the watch. “So this is, like, a family heirloom or something?”

“Quite right. Your great-grandfather, William, named for his grandfather, as was I, coincidentally, named for my grandfather, not his. Anyway, your great-grandfather passed the watch on to his son, your grandfather, on his eighteenth birthday. He passed it on to your father when he turned eighteen, and it was always your father’s wish that you should have it when you turned eighteen too. He had it written into his Will, although, I’m sure, he expected to have to re-write that clause about now. I’m sorry he’s not here to give it to you himself, Paul. I’m sure he’d have been very proud of the fine young man you’ve become.”

I didn’t say anything, but I did wipe away a tear from the corner of my eye.

“There’s something else I need to discuss with you,” Will said. He waited until I looked up at him before continuing. “Paul, your parents first instructed me as their solicitor when I moved to Westmouth some eight years ago. That was when you moved into your current home, do you remember?”