Read Online A House Divided: An Easterleigh Hall Novel by Margaret Graham - Free Book Online

and cheese. She rose. Tim leapt to his feet and pulled out her chair.
    The men also stood, their jackets off, their braces hanging down in loops, sitting only when the door clicked behind her. They attacked the brandy. The crystal goblets were poured fuller than at Easterleigh Hall, and not swirled, and the aroma not breathed in, which Uncle Richard and Uncle Aub thought was the best thing about brandy. Here, it was drunk in great gulps. Tim shook his head when the bottle reached him, the very smell making him even worse. He passed it to his neighbour, Walter, taking the opportunity to snatch a look at his watch. It was midnight. When could he leave for bed? He poured himself coffee.
    Walter laughed, and waggled the bottle at him. ‘You have no head for drink?’
    Tim smiled, not daring to shake his head or it would fall off. ‘I have done too well over the last few days. One hangover on top of another, and a rough sea crossing in between. Soon my head will explode, which will mess up my mother’s decor.’
    The men roared with laughter. ‘You hear that, Heine?’ Bruno shouted. ‘An explosion, he says. What does this boy know of explosions?’
    Walter nudged Tim. His coffee slopped onto the damask tablecloth, and he dabbed at it with his serviette. Heine said, ‘Amala will launder it.’
    Walter boomed, ‘You should have been with us,fighting those communists in the hellhole that
was
Berlin. Then you would have seen heads explode, and some were almost ours.’ Again there was laughter, far too loud.
    He was the one gulping now, but it was coffee, anything to neutralise the wine and try to kill the headache. Why had he had any this evening? Alright, he knew why, he was showing off, trying to keep up with these old soldiers. He refilled his cup. Damned small they were too, but such fine porcelain that it was almost featherweight. He called to Heine, ‘You have a good eye, Heine. Lovely furniture, and this porcelain is right canny, as we say at home.’
    Again there was laughter. Perhaps they hadn’t understood. He said, ‘I meant it is very nice.’ The laughter continued and Heine grinned, waving his cigar and looking around at his friends. ‘Ah, those who had the apartment before us were more than generous.’ The laughter grew.
    Bruno shouted down the table. ‘Left us all their belongings. It is how things are done now, my boy, where some people are concerned.’
    Walter slipped his arm across Tim’s shoulders. Tim struggled to follow the thread of the conversation but it was hopeless. Instead he thought of the splintered wood in the front door frame. He called, ‘I could mend that door frame for you, Heine, where someone has taken something down; I’ll sand it, even stain it. It would be neater.’
    The men looked from one to another, then atHeine. Silence had fallen. Tim wondered what he had said. Heine pointed his cigar towards his plate, and the ash crumpled onto it. The end glowed red and grey. He said, ‘Why not? The tenants were careless to damage SS property. It was not noticed in time and I had forgotten. Thank you for bringing it to my attention once more.’
    Tim shook his head. ‘It is only a small job, so I’ll fix it tomorrow.’
    Bruno and Hans, who sat next to one another, grimaced. Bruno said, ‘Nothing should have been removed. Perhaps it should be mentioned to them, should it not, my comrades? After all, they are now living rent free.’ They were grinning at one another.
    Heine shook his head slightly, frowning at them. Tim sipped his coffee. Walter was laughing quietly beside him. Bruno pressed on, his face sweaty, his eyes those of someone who really should not have any more booze. ‘It is a training camp, one might say.’
    Heine called, ‘Do not bore our guest, Bruno.’
    Tim smiled at Heine. ‘I’m not bored at all.’
    Heine exhaled cigar smoke. Walter suddenly burst into song, squeezing Tim’s shoulders. Hans called across the table, as he slammed his hand down in time with