Grandpa and Me

We dropped Grandpa and Dorothy off at the village and headed home. This is where it got interesting. As we turned into the driveway, we saw the car being winched onto a flatbed car transporter. I parked in front of him so that he could not leave and approached the driver. "What is going on here?"

"I have been asked to collect this car and transport it to a warehouse."

"Do you have any paperwork?" He rummaged among some papers on the dashboard before finding the papers. He handed them to me. It all became clear. My father had arranged for the collection.

"Darling, look at this." Felicity said, pointing to the door locks. They had all been forced.

"Did you force these locks?" I asked the driver.

"No, I found it like that."

"And you didn't think it strange that you were asked to collect a vehicle from a shed that had its locks forced?"

"No, I often have to collect vehicles that are being repossessed, I just thought that this was one of those."

"We're calling the police." I handed Felicity my phone. "Unless you want to be charged with car stealing, I suggest that you remove the car from your truck and shove it back in the shed." The speed at which he unloaded that car seemed to suggest that he wanted nothing that would draw the police' attention to his business. I moved my car and trailer so that he could leave. I kept the paperwork.

The police arrived shortly after and after the officers had closely inspected the car. "Never seen one of these before." One said to the other.

"Probably one of those European supercars." The other commented. "How fast does she go?" He asked me.

"No more than the speed limit." I said. I then added. "I don't know, I've never had the opportunity to try it out, but according to the dyno test figures, somewhere north of two-fifty klicks (Kilometres per hour)."

I explained what had happened and handed over the paperwork that indicated that my father had ordered the removal of the car and probably was responsible for the breaking into the shed.

"Has anything else been stolen?" I was asked.

I went into the shed and noticed immediately that the tubes containing plans were missing. "There were some tubes containing my grandfather's working drawings for his projects. They are valuable and important."

"What were the drawings of?"

"Among other things, this car and the yacht. The car drawings are important because they include the engineer's certification that the car meets Australian Design Rules." He scribbled notes in his pad.

Some ten minutes later a taxi pulled up. "I called Grandpa." Felicity told me.

"What has happened?" He asked as he and Dorothy arrived at the shed.

"It seems as if my father arranged for the car to be picked up and transported to a warehouse."

"How did he get in?"

"The locks were forced."

"So what are the police doing about this?"

"I gave them the information that the locks had been forced and they have the paperwork that shows that Father ordered the car to be picked up. I can only assume that he came here and broke in to see what was in here, and on seeing the car, decided to have it removed."

We were joined by another police car, this time a Forensic team come to test for forensic evidence. After dusting for prints they announced that there was a lack of fingerprint evidence around the locks. "Probably wore gloves." The officer in charge stated. "Not surprising, given what was being stolen. If I was stealing something this obvious, I wouldn't leave any trace."

Felicity and Dorothy had gone inside while we were talking to the police, and as soon as they had gone, emerged with a tray on which were four glasses and a bottle. "We found this, and thought you needed something a little stronger than coffee."

"I'm surprised that you hadn't found this and demolished it." Grandpa said.

"It isn't mine." I said by way of explanation.

"But it is, it came with the house."

"But I didn't know until a couple of days ago that the house was mine." I looked at the label, I could not afford a single malt like this.

"What will happen if those plans are destroyed?" I asked Grandpa.

"I have that under control. I expect that he will allege that I was the person who hired that tow truck driver to remove the car. This will be his way of forcing me to undergo the competence assessment. I can tell you that he will make many allegations, and in each and every case, his allegations will jump up and bite him on the arse."

"I wish I could be that confident." I said.

"Oh ye of little faith."

It was some time after they had left us that we got a phone call from Dorothy. "The police have taken Harold in for questioning. It seems as if your father has managed to convince them that he has lost the plot."

"What are we going to do?"

"Nothing for the present. He has spoken with his Lawyer and they are confident that there is not enough evidence to hold him. What are you doing on Wednesday?"

"I've nothing planned, why?"

"The competence hearing is set for then. I have spoken to the powers that be here, and have arranged for Felicity to have the day off. We are going to support him."

"You bet. We will be there. I'll come over tomorrow, Felicity is rostered on so she will already be there. A battle plan is in order. I'll see you then."

"That doesn't sound good." Felicity said.

"No it doesn't. All that we can do for the present is to think positive and hope for a miracle." I said, trying to sound positive.

"Somehow I don't think that Grandpa believes in miracles. I just hope that he has thought of everything."

Grandpa had thought of everything, even down to a psychiatric assessment of letters sent, at Father's insistence, from his Lawyer to Grandpa's, that indicate an increasing level of greed and desire to control Grandpa's small fortune.

"He hasn't managed to get his sticky fingers on the company finances." He told us.

"What company?" I asked. I wasn't aware of Grandpa's involvement with any company.

"All in good time." Grandpa said mysteriously.

"I wish that you wouldn't keep saying that. I think that we, your cheer squad, need something more substantial than that."

"All will be revealed on Wednesday." We had to accept that this was all that we were going to get from him.

Wednesday morning, and at least the sun was shining to brighten up what could be a very cloudy day indeed. Dorothy, Felicity and I sat in the row behind Grandpa and Lawrence, his Lawyer. We had just heard the evidence put forward by the Psychiatrist hired by father. It was damning to say the least. It portrayed Grandpa to be a person given to flights of fancy, of not being able to manage his finances, and who, according to the Psychiatrist, was in the early stages of dementia.

"Doctor Henderson, where and when did you carry out this assessment?"

Henderson looked at his notes. "On Thursday the twenty-third of August, in his unit at the retirement village."

"Did you identify yourself as a Psychiatrist and that you were there to assess his competence?"

"No, I find that if I so identify myself, I am not able to gain an accurate assessment, the person being assessed does not always give accurate responses to the questions. I told him that I was conducting a survey into how he was coping with living in his environment."

"Did it not occur to you that he might have seen through your ruse and was, to use a non-technical term, pulling your chain with his responses?"

"No, I am certain that his responses were consistent with a person in the early stages of dementia."

"Tell me Doctor Henderson, are you not what is known as a 'renta-shrink', a doctor who hires himself out to anyone who wants an assessment slanted in a particular way?"

"Objection!" Father's Lawyer was on his feet.

"I withdraw my question." Lawrence said. He had effectively put Doctor Henderson on the back foot. He was further discredited when Lawrence examined his qualifications and established that were the minimum needed to gain accreditation.

Father was called to give evidence. He recited a litany of incidents that he believed supported his assertion that Grandpa was suffering from dementia. "My father told me recently that the projects that he was forever mucking around with in his shed, were what provided the money to finance my university studies. As far as I know, I'm aware, he never sold any of the things that he produced. One minute he was working on some brainwave, and the next it was gone, it disappeared, never to be seen again."

"So, did you ever actually see any of these projects?"

"Not until recently when I saw a car that I presume he will tell us that he built entirely on his own."

"Is this the car?" Lawrence asked, holding up a photograph of my car.

"Yes it is."

"When did you see this car?"

"Last week." As soon as he said that he realised that he had admitted to having broken into the shed.

"That would be when you forced the locks on the shed to gain entrance so that you could remove the contents of the shed, would it not?"

"Yes," He replied softly. "I was looking for evidence of his fantasies."

"Then why arrange for the removal of the car. Was that so that there was no evidence of the genius of my client? Was that why you also removed the plans that were on the workbench in the shed?"

"What plans?"

"These plans." He held up a USB stick. "This is a digital record of plans held in secure storage, of all of the projects, some completed, some not, which my client Harold Stuyvens has worked on over the past thirty years. The plans that you stole, and presumably destroyed, were copies. You claim that, to your knowledge, your father never sold any of the projects he developed, is this correct?"

"Yes."

"What would you say if I was to tell you that technically, this is correct?"

"I appreciate his admission, it justifies my request for this hearing."

"I said that technically he did not sell any of them, because he did not need the money to meet his day to day needs, but he did make a considerable fortune from them by selling the production licences to manufacturing companies on the understanding that, on paper they could take credit for the invention. He wasn't completely stupid, you see he holds the patents for either the device, or the application of a device, when that is dis-similar to that of already existing patent."

"What? If this is true, where is the evidence of any of this?"

Lawrence took a file from his briefcase. "I have here a list of all of the projects, inventions if you will, the rights for which have been sold. There are seventy such projects, and these bring in a total of," He looked at the paper in front of him. "Some seven million dollars in licence fees each year. Once your education was paid for, he sought a vehicle that he could use to channel the proceeds of his projects. Now all of this money goes to a privately owned, not for profit, holding company and is invested in a variety of projects, some local while some of it goes into international projects such as 'Medicine sans Frontiers', I believe that you have heard of them, all of these projects are classified as social welfare projects. The day to day operations of this company are controlled by your father, Harold Stuyvens." He took a letter from the folder. "I have here a letter, signed by each of the board members of that holding company, attesting to the competence of the Managing director and CEO of that company, Harold Stuyvens."

There was a moment of total silence in the courtroom until Lawrence spoke to Father. "I have been instructed by my client to tell you that if you withdraw this vexatious action immediately, you will benefit from his will. If you do not, the entire legacy will go to your son Michael Stuyvens. What is your decision?"

A quick conference between father and his lawyer followed, resulting in the cessation of the competence hearing.

"You will of course have many questions for which you need answers. I will tell all, but not right now, we have a celebration of sorts to attend." Grandpa said when we arrived home. "But first things first, Dorothy and I have been giving some thoughts to our living arrangements." He saw the look on Felicity and my face. "Don't worry, we do not intend to cramp your style by moving back here."

"That's exactly what we were about to suggest." I said.

"I won't hear of it. This your house now."

"That means that we are free to invite whoever we like to stay with us, does it not?"

"Yes. I know where this conversation is headed, by inviting us to move in with you, you will take our refusal as an insult to your hospitality."

"That's the general picture, yes."

"We shall see what we shall see." Grandpa said, with a smile on his face. "I built this house and one of the things I made sure of was to build thick interior walls, they are virtually sound proof, you'd have to be screaming pretty loud for us to hear you." He looked at Felicity.

"And the same goes for Grandma, from memory she's something of a screamer."

"I had noticed, what must the old dears at the village think?"

"They're probably jealous." Dorothy said.

After lunch the four of us were in the shed looking at the car and the yacht. "So what's next on the drawing board?" Felicity asked.

"Don't know, in case you hadn't realised it, I've been somewhat distracted of late."

"That's no excuse." Felicity said. "I didn't just mean you, I'm sure that my man can have good ideas as well, and he hasn't been distracted for as long as you."

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a car. "Looks like trouble." I said as I recognised Father's car, but it wasn't him that got out. "Hi Mum, what brings you here?"

"I came to put an end to this foolishness."

"What foolishness are you talking about?" I asked.

"Your grandfather and this, this woman. You do realise that she is a con-artist, don't you?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"And she," she pointed at Felicity, "is in on it with her. Your father had her checked out. After her husband died some ten years ago, she has had a series of liaisons with men, all of them wealthy and all of them conveniently died," the way she said it made it sound as if the she was in some way responsible for their deaths, "leaving her very wealthy. Now it seems, she has set her sights on this stupid old man and she is going to make sure that she inherits all of his money after she has shagged him to death."

I looked at Grandpa and he just smiled at me.

"You have proof of these allegations?" I asked her.

"I suppose that you are going to tell me that you never wondered how these two old fools got together in the first place."

"I know how they got together, they met in the dining hall, and there was an instant attraction, end of story."

"Bullshit! This tart," indicating Felicity, "looked around for a likely candidate for this scheme, and thought that he would be ideal, an old man who had lost his wife and was lonely for female companionship, and who was loaded. As soon as she realised that your Grandfather fitted the bill, she pointed her accomplice in his direction."

"Who told you that pack of lies? No, let me guess, it was my father, the man who tried to have his own father declared incompetent to manage his financial affairs, the man who has generously let me live, rent free, in as it turns out, my own house, in return for cheap labour to renovate the house, so that he can sell it and make money, money that he obviously needs to bail him out of some financial mess that he has found himself in."

"How dare you talk about your father like that! As for you owning this house, we'll see about that!" She paused for breath. "Your father and I are going to seek an injunction preventing her from inheriting when he dies."

"If I may interrupt you here." Dorothy said, in a calm voice. "It is true that following the death of my husband, I did have relationships with wealthy men, some of whom it happens died, leaving me a modest, by their standards, inheritance. Their families were very well provided for. When Harold and I first got together, he told me that he had checked me out, he said that he wasn't going to start a relationship unless he knew all that there was to know about the object of his affections. He was well aware of my previous relationships, and he joked about it, saying that he hoped that he died as happy as they were when they had died."

"That's not to stop you contesting his will if you wanted to."

"But why would I do that? I have sufficient for my needs, and enough put away to help Felicity, her parents are well off and don't need my money. I have no need for Harold's inheritance, and who's to say that he'll shuffle off before me. Michael and Felicity will live here, after all it's his house, and we don't really care if they don't get married, because that's their business, not ours, just as long as they're happy."

"We are." Felicity said. "And we intend to get married, soon, and we'd love it if you would come to the wedding."

"Humph, fat chance of that happening."

"The offer still stands." I said, putting an arm around my better half and kissing her. This was way too much for Mother, who stormed off.

Life took on a new dynamic for the four of us. Felicity kept working as a nurse, not because she had to for financial reasons, but because she wanted to. Dorothy became chief cook and bottle washer for the household, while Grandpa and I worked in the newly formed company, Harmic Technologies, based in the shed. Our main focus is on developing renewable energy projects. These range from electricity generation to sustainable energy usage technology for manufacturing and transport.

The car has lost its petrol powered internal combustion engine, it has been replaced by a combination of hydrogen fuel cell and battery power. We have achieved a range of over a thousand kilometres on one fill of hydrogen and a top speed of two hundred kilometres an hour, at least on paper. We have made arrangements to use a motor racing circuit to conduct rolling trials. It is currently in the process of gaining certification under Australian Design Rules, a process that is taking time because the technology is so advanced that the regulators are having problems getting their heads around it.

Three months after the drama, the four of us took our relationships to the next level with a dual wedding in our back garden. Invitations were sent to my parents, but they did not respond, although I did notice Mother had slid into the back row of guests.

Shortly after the wedding we received a call from Mother who announced the news that she and Father were divorcing. We invited her to visit, which she did. She is now a regular visitor. We have not seen Father, who, it seems, has gone to ground since he is under investigation by the police, something to do with his share trading.

Changes to our lives are imminent. Felicity let it slip last night in bed that she was pregnant. We are just about to announce the news over breakfast.