Read Online The Blue Bottle Club by Penelope Stokes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Penelope Stokes
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folder.
"Ah, Sheriff. We were just discussing the necessity of keeping this as quiet as possible. For the sake of the family, of course."
"Of course." The sheriff turned toward Mother. "If that's your wish, Mrs. Cameron, I certainly understand." He took the file folder from Pastor Archer and opened it. "We did find something that helps explain this, ah, situation."
Big Eleanor roused herself and fixed a gaze on the sheriff. "Found what?"
Pastor Archer shook his head. "It's not good, I'm afraid. Everything's gone."
"What do you mean, everything!" Philip demanded, the first words he had spoken since his arrival.
"It appears that your husband," the pastor said with a nod toward Mother, "had all his personal assets in stocks, except for a small amount of cash we found in his desk. The businessâ" He retrieved the file folder from the sheriff and studied the first document. "The business is bankrupt."
"But he told me the market would bounce back!" Big Eleanor wailed. "He promised!"
Pastor Archer's eyes flickered toward Eleanor. "And he was right. The market is beginning to rebound. Unfortunately, if these reports are any indication, he didn't wait quite long enough. He tried to comfort people like you, Eleanor, to give them hope. But apparently he didn't take his own advice. Two months ago, when the initial panic set in, he sold everything, at rock-bottom prices, just trying to hang on. Your stocks, too, Eleanor."
"He was lying?"
Pastor Archer sighed. "He was just trying to get through Christmas."
The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his belt and nodded. "We found a will too, leaving everything to Mrs. Cameron. But I'm afraid its all but worthless. Even the house had been mortgaged, and the money put into stocks."
"The house?" Letitia heard herself speak as if she were floating outside her own body. "Not the house."
"You don't have to do anything about it right away, of course." The sheriff tried to sound reassuring, but it came across hollow and unconvincing. "There's a little money, enough to get by for a while. No one is going to throw you out on the street."
Tish felt Philip's hand lift from her shoulder, and a chill went through her.
"We're agreed, then, that we remain quiet about the circumstances of Randolph's death?" Alice asked with a note of panic in her voice.
"Fine by me," the sheriff agreed, and Mother nodded mutely.
"It'll be for the best; you'll see," Stuart murmured.
Philip and his parents got up to leave, followed by Mary Love and Ellie and her mother. Pastor Archer came over and took Mothers hand. "Maris, I'm so sorry about all of this. You and Letitia probably need some time alone. I'll come back later this afternoon and we'll make arrangements for the service. In the meantime, if you'll get a suit ready, I'll take it to the funeral home."
"I'll do it." Tish got up from the sofa and left her mother sitting there. She had to get away, anywhere, just to relieve herself of the sight of Philip's face. He couldn't look at her, wouldn't meet her gaze. He just moved woodenly toward the door without a word.
Tish went into her parents' bedroom and shut the door behind her. Everything was so infuriatingly normal âDaddy's slippers side by side under the bed, his navy dressing gown hanging on the back of the door. A pair of gold cuff buttons and several ivory collar stays scattered across the top of the dresser.
She opened the door of the wardrobe and took out his best suitâa dark charcoal-gray wool with a matching vestâand pressed it to her face. The scratchy fabric reminded her of all the times she had greeted him at the door, flinging herself into his arms and burrowing into his shoulder. The wool still bore his smell, a tantalizing mixture of pipe tobacco and the spicescented Macassar oil he used on his hair.
Carefully Tish laid the suit on the bed and brushed off the lapels. She collected a freshly starched white shirt, her favorite wine-colored tie, under-shorts and undershirt,
"Ah, Sheriff. We were just discussing the necessity of keeping this as quiet as possible. For the sake of the family, of course."
"Of course." The sheriff turned toward Mother. "If that's your wish, Mrs. Cameron, I certainly understand." He took the file folder from Pastor Archer and opened it. "We did find something that helps explain this, ah, situation."
Big Eleanor roused herself and fixed a gaze on the sheriff. "Found what?"
Pastor Archer shook his head. "It's not good, I'm afraid. Everything's gone."
"What do you mean, everything!" Philip demanded, the first words he had spoken since his arrival.
"It appears that your husband," the pastor said with a nod toward Mother, "had all his personal assets in stocks, except for a small amount of cash we found in his desk. The businessâ" He retrieved the file folder from the sheriff and studied the first document. "The business is bankrupt."
"But he told me the market would bounce back!" Big Eleanor wailed. "He promised!"
Pastor Archer's eyes flickered toward Eleanor. "And he was right. The market is beginning to rebound. Unfortunately, if these reports are any indication, he didn't wait quite long enough. He tried to comfort people like you, Eleanor, to give them hope. But apparently he didn't take his own advice. Two months ago, when the initial panic set in, he sold everything, at rock-bottom prices, just trying to hang on. Your stocks, too, Eleanor."
"He was lying?"
Pastor Archer sighed. "He was just trying to get through Christmas."
The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his belt and nodded. "We found a will too, leaving everything to Mrs. Cameron. But I'm afraid its all but worthless. Even the house had been mortgaged, and the money put into stocks."
"The house?" Letitia heard herself speak as if she were floating outside her own body. "Not the house."
"You don't have to do anything about it right away, of course." The sheriff tried to sound reassuring, but it came across hollow and unconvincing. "There's a little money, enough to get by for a while. No one is going to throw you out on the street."
Tish felt Philip's hand lift from her shoulder, and a chill went through her.
"We're agreed, then, that we remain quiet about the circumstances of Randolph's death?" Alice asked with a note of panic in her voice.
"Fine by me," the sheriff agreed, and Mother nodded mutely.
"It'll be for the best; you'll see," Stuart murmured.
Philip and his parents got up to leave, followed by Mary Love and Ellie and her mother. Pastor Archer came over and took Mothers hand. "Maris, I'm so sorry about all of this. You and Letitia probably need some time alone. I'll come back later this afternoon and we'll make arrangements for the service. In the meantime, if you'll get a suit ready, I'll take it to the funeral home."
"I'll do it." Tish got up from the sofa and left her mother sitting there. She had to get away, anywhere, just to relieve herself of the sight of Philip's face. He couldn't look at her, wouldn't meet her gaze. He just moved woodenly toward the door without a word.
Tish went into her parents' bedroom and shut the door behind her. Everything was so infuriatingly normal âDaddy's slippers side by side under the bed, his navy dressing gown hanging on the back of the door. A pair of gold cuff buttons and several ivory collar stays scattered across the top of the dresser.
She opened the door of the wardrobe and took out his best suitâa dark charcoal-gray wool with a matching vestâand pressed it to her face. The scratchy fabric reminded her of all the times she had greeted him at the door, flinging herself into his arms and burrowing into his shoulder. The wool still bore his smell, a tantalizing mixture of pipe tobacco and the spicescented Macassar oil he used on his hair.
Carefully Tish laid the suit on the bed and brushed off the lapels. She collected a freshly starched white shirt, her favorite wine-colored tie, under-shorts and undershirt,
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