Read Online As if by Magic by Dolores Gordon-Smith - Free Book Online Page A

sir. Who are you? Why have you got my father’s picture?’
    â€˜Charles is your father?’ The old man looked George up and down and tentatively reached out to him with an expression of such tenderness it made Jack catch his breath. ‘And you’re George. You were called after me. You don’t know this, but I’ve thought about you a lot.’ George took his outstretched hand. ‘You’re my grandson.’
    The next ten minutes or so were spent in a tumble of explanations, most of which were so fragmentary that, with the best will in the world, Jack didn’t see how anyone could follow them. He watched George’s earnest face as he leaned forward, listening to his grandfather. He should have seen the likeness immediately. It was no wonder old Mr Lassiter reminded him of someone. It was George, of course – those similarities in the shape of the nose and the line of the jaw. There were mannerisms too; how they sat, how both men would give a sharp tilt of the head before speaking and little unconscious gestures of the hands.
    George had embarked on an account of his bewilderment at how oddly familiar the house and surrounding streets seemed, when his grandfather interrupted.
    â€˜But of course it all seems familiar, George. You were born here, here in this house. You lived here until you were nearly three.’
    George looked at him with a puzzled frown. ‘I was born in South Africa.’
    His grandfather smiled. ‘No, you weren’t. Not a bit of it. This is where you were born and this was your home when you were very young.’
    George turned to Jack. ‘That must be it, Jack! I must have remembered without knowing I did.’
    â€˜I bet that’s why everything seemed the wrong size,’ said Jack. ‘When you go back to somewhere you knew as a kid it all seems too small. I’ve had that experience.’
    â€˜It explains the other night as well,’ said George eagerly. ‘It explains why I felt so drawn to this particular house. That and the fire.’ He gave a shy smile, braced himself and looked at Anne. ‘You don’t seem to have recognized me, but I was the man in the kitchen. You know, with the police and so on.’
    â€˜You?’
Anne sat up and stared at him sharply. ‘Of course you are! I thought I recognized you. Ever since you came in I’ve been trying to think where I’ve seen you before.’ She turned to Mr Lassiter. ‘You remember I told you about it? A man broke into the kitchen. The police took him to hospital.’
    Mr Lassiter drew back, shocked. ‘You broke in, George?’
    â€˜He was desperate,’ put in Jack, seeing his friend’s face. Poor old George was brick-red with embarrassment and the atmosphere in the sitting room had suffered a sudden chill. ‘He was completely on his uppers – destitute, I mean – and had nowhere to go. He was coming down with malaria and flu and, from what I can make out, half-dead with cold.’
    Old Mr Lassiter relaxed but still looked at George warily.
    â€˜I told you I was attracted to the house,’ said George. ‘I seemed to remember what it would be like inside. I . . . I so wanted to be inside.’ He stood up. ‘Look, I’m sorry.’ He hesitated. ‘It’s as Jack said. I was desperate, but I still shouldn’t have done it. I know that. All I can say is, I’m sorry.’ He glanced at Jack. ‘I think we’d better go.’
    His grandfather rose to his feet. ‘Go? For heaven’s sake, boy, you’ve only just arrived.’ He reached his hand out once more. ‘Please, George, sit down. You were ill, you say?’
    George looked at Jack for support.
    â€˜George was completely broke and very ill indeed,’ said Jack, seeing his friend needed helping out. ‘I don’t think it’s any exaggeration to say that he would have died that night if it hadn’t