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Authors: Neil Richards
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true?
“Everyone there could have used that money so why steal it?”
Sarah took a deep breath before the next question.
A long pause, as she braced herself.
“And you too?”
Lady Repton had long perfected the art of the long, slow and deeply uncomfortable burn.
“Of course. Of course, I could have used that money.” She looked around the room, avoiding eye contact. “No secret there. No end of things needed for the old estate. Lists a mile long. Hence,” she looked back to Sarah. “I’m not pleased.”
“I’m sure.”
Sarah looked over to Standish who had forced a sheepish smile into place, his eyes seemingly suggesting that this little interview was over.
Sarah leaned forward and extended a hand.
“Thank you, Lady Repton, for coming here. Answering my questions. We will do what we can.”
Lady Repton put her tea, half drunk, on the corner of Tony’s deep mahogany desk.
Then the old battle-axe used the leverage of her cane to rise out of the classic wooden chair.
“I doubt that doing ’what you can’ will mean anything. Still, I suppose I must wish you luck.”
She took Sarah’s hand in a surprisingly firm handshake.
“Now, Standish — a taxi, if you will?”
And like a prehistoric three-legged raptor, not to be underestimated, Lady Repton walked out the door.
15. No Headway
Jack watched carefully from the forward deck of the Grey Goose as Daniel loosened the rope, pulled it back into the little rowing boat and took hold of the oars. Riley the dog sat patiently in the stern, unperturbed as the tiny craft bobbed from side to side, next to the barge.
“Don’t forget now, Daniel — take a good look up and down river.”
Daniel checked like he was crossing the road for the first time.
Which in a sense he is, thought Jack.
“Tell me this gets easier,” said Sarah standing next to Jack, anxiously watching her eleven-year old son row solo for the first time.
“Nope,” said Jack. “I can guarantee you that when Daniel is twenty-one you will still be peering over his shoulder ready to pick him up when he falls. Or at the very least, pick up his rent bill when he phones home to say he’s broke.”
“All clear!” said Daniel.
“Well then … off you go, kid,” said Jack.
Daniel dipped both oars in the water, pulled, and headed away across the river with Riley to the far bank. The water was flat calm and Jack noticed the insects skimming over the surface.
Maybe get the rods out later, catch myself some supper.
“Nearly there, Dan,” called Sarah, a warning tone in her voice.
“He knows what he’s doing,” said Jack.
And sure enough, Jack could see Daniel check his distance from the bank, ship his oars and gently float to a perfect rest up against the little jetty. The boy looped his rope round the post, tied it off then jumped up onto the opposite bank. Riley leaped after him.
“Nice work Daniel,” called Jack. “Give us a shout when you’re ready to come back.”
Daniel gave a big grin and a thumbs-up.
“Come on Riley!” he shouted, and raced off into the meadows. Riley tore after him.
Jack turned to Sarah.
“Kid’s a natural,” he said. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”
“I seem to remember you use the outboard these days Jack.”
“Gotta watch I don’t put my back out.”
“Hmm. A likely story …”
Jack winked at her then pulled out one of the canvas chairs that leaned against the table and sat down, facing the river. Daniel and Riley were already halfway across the meadows. Jack had a sudden and surprising pang of memory of being that age, his dog at his side, walking through waist-high grass.
Funny how an image like that can ambush you , he thought.
Sarah pulled out another chair and sat next to him.
“So you think there’s nothing more we can do,” she said, not taking her eyes off her son, fast becoming a dot in the distance.
Jack knew it was the case she was talking about.
They’d already spent the morning going round in
“Everyone there could have used that money so why steal it?”
Sarah took a deep breath before the next question.
A long pause, as she braced herself.
“And you too?”
Lady Repton had long perfected the art of the long, slow and deeply uncomfortable burn.
“Of course. Of course, I could have used that money.” She looked around the room, avoiding eye contact. “No secret there. No end of things needed for the old estate. Lists a mile long. Hence,” she looked back to Sarah. “I’m not pleased.”
“I’m sure.”
Sarah looked over to Standish who had forced a sheepish smile into place, his eyes seemingly suggesting that this little interview was over.
Sarah leaned forward and extended a hand.
“Thank you, Lady Repton, for coming here. Answering my questions. We will do what we can.”
Lady Repton put her tea, half drunk, on the corner of Tony’s deep mahogany desk.
Then the old battle-axe used the leverage of her cane to rise out of the classic wooden chair.
“I doubt that doing ’what you can’ will mean anything. Still, I suppose I must wish you luck.”
She took Sarah’s hand in a surprisingly firm handshake.
“Now, Standish — a taxi, if you will?”
And like a prehistoric three-legged raptor, not to be underestimated, Lady Repton walked out the door.
15. No Headway
Jack watched carefully from the forward deck of the Grey Goose as Daniel loosened the rope, pulled it back into the little rowing boat and took hold of the oars. Riley the dog sat patiently in the stern, unperturbed as the tiny craft bobbed from side to side, next to the barge.
“Don’t forget now, Daniel — take a good look up and down river.”
Daniel checked like he was crossing the road for the first time.
Which in a sense he is, thought Jack.
“Tell me this gets easier,” said Sarah standing next to Jack, anxiously watching her eleven-year old son row solo for the first time.
“Nope,” said Jack. “I can guarantee you that when Daniel is twenty-one you will still be peering over his shoulder ready to pick him up when he falls. Or at the very least, pick up his rent bill when he phones home to say he’s broke.”
“All clear!” said Daniel.
“Well then … off you go, kid,” said Jack.
Daniel dipped both oars in the water, pulled, and headed away across the river with Riley to the far bank. The water was flat calm and Jack noticed the insects skimming over the surface.
Maybe get the rods out later, catch myself some supper.
“Nearly there, Dan,” called Sarah, a warning tone in her voice.
“He knows what he’s doing,” said Jack.
And sure enough, Jack could see Daniel check his distance from the bank, ship his oars and gently float to a perfect rest up against the little jetty. The boy looped his rope round the post, tied it off then jumped up onto the opposite bank. Riley leaped after him.
“Nice work Daniel,” called Jack. “Give us a shout when you’re ready to come back.”
Daniel gave a big grin and a thumbs-up.
“Come on Riley!” he shouted, and raced off into the meadows. Riley tore after him.
Jack turned to Sarah.
“Kid’s a natural,” he said. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”
“I seem to remember you use the outboard these days Jack.”
“Gotta watch I don’t put my back out.”
“Hmm. A likely story …”
Jack winked at her then pulled out one of the canvas chairs that leaned against the table and sat down, facing the river. Daniel and Riley were already halfway across the meadows. Jack had a sudden and surprising pang of memory of being that age, his dog at his side, walking through waist-high grass.
Funny how an image like that can ambush you , he thought.
Sarah pulled out another chair and sat next to him.
“So you think there’s nothing more we can do,” she said, not taking her eyes off her son, fast becoming a dot in the distance.
Jack knew it was the case she was talking about.
They’d already spent the morning going round in
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