Read Online A Proper Family Christmas by Jane Gordon - Cumming - Free Book Online Page A

off. She doesn’t need William’s money.”
    â€œNo, she doesn’t. So I’m sure she would resign her claim in favour of you and Daniel.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œBen was her eldest and, let’s face it, her favourite son. …No - I admit it - I’ve always been a bit too much of a rebel to fit in with family conventions. I wouldn’t expect to benefit from anything Margery has to offer - though, God knows, I can’t think how I survive on the pittance a writer can expect to earn - one with any pretensions to literature, I should say. I’m not talking Dan Brown here…”
    Hilary knew that Leo’s father had left both of his sons a reasonable legacy. If Ben’s had disappeared into their mortgage, Leo chose to live on the income from his share while he aspired to be a writer.
    â€œAnd it’s not as if you couldn’t do with the money. I don’t know what you make at that copy-editing, but it can’t be enough to keep Daniel at Medical School. You were still paying off what Ben had borrowed to set up the business when he died, according to what I heard. …I beg your pardon?”
    Hilary had made a growling noise in her throat, the remnants of a suppressed scream. If she feigned a heart attack, would he let her off at the next service station? Probably not.
    She sighed. There was only one thing for it.
    â€œHow’s your book going, Leo?”

CHAPTER 5
    Scratch had been excluded from lunch in the dining-room, and was miffed about it. He waited patiently outside the door, hoping to be noticed. But when Stephen and Lesley finally emerged with William they were busy talking, and went straight across to the sitting-room without sparing Scratch a second glance. In fact they were so engrossed in what appeared to be a heated discussion that they forgot to take the elementary precaution of either putting the food away safely or shutting the door.
    Scratch couldn’t believe his luck. There on the table was a totally unprotected quiche, a bowl of potato salad, and other feline delights such as butter! He leapt onto the table, prepared to sample each one.
    Suddenly he was gripped round the waist. He gave a squawk of disappointment as he was lowered unceremoniously to the floor.
    â€œSorry, mate, but my need’s greater than yours.”
    Frances was even more delighted than he was to find a quiche deprived of only two small slices, the potatoes, and, despised by Scratch, a bowl of salad and some tinned fruit. Tobias had taken an age to drop off, and she was starving. There was no sign of the others. They must have adjourned without bothering to fetch her or check that she was fed.
    Conscience wouldn’t let her leave the debris as she’d found it, so she cleared the table when she’d finished, put the remains of the food in the fridge, watched balefully by the cat, and washed up Stephen and Lesley’s plates as well as her own. After that, she craved a cup of tea.
    There was an old kettle on the stove and mugs on a hook nearby - but teabags? Frances opened some cupboards. Nice china, obviously never used. Food - William apparently lived on tinned stew and packets of curry powder. But here, if she wasn’t mistaken, was a brand new electric kettle, its lead still neatly coiled. She lifted it out from the back of the cupboard, and rinsed it out before filling it and plugging it in to a socket near the cooker. Further investigations led to the toffee tin of teabags, and there were several bottles of milk in the fridge.
    â€œIndulging in a cup of tea, Nanny?”
    She jumped guiltily. Stephen Shirburn had come through the open door unheard.
    â€œYes, I - er… Would you like one?”
    â€œWe’d all like some, thank you very much. If you could bring it into the sitting-room.”
    He went out again. Frances made a face at the cat. “Where’s my frilly apron and cap?”
    She found an old brown teapot and some of