Read Online The One Who Got Away by Caroline Overington - Free Book Online

said, moving to take the seat that Belle had vacated, beside me on the sofa. ‘I wonder if you might let me show you something.’ He put his glass down on the coffee table and began feeling underneath to extract one of the books stored there.
    â€˜Oh, Dad, not now,’ sighed David.
    It was one of those awkward moments when you’re trying to be warm and polite without really knowing what you’re in for.
    â€˜David says you’re from Bienveneda,’ Garrett said.
    â€˜I am.’
    â€˜And your surname’s … Franklin?’
    â€˜That’s right.’
    â€˜Our name, as you probably know, is Wynne-Estes,’ said Garrett, rubbing the side of his moustache. ‘Some people find it hard to pronounce. It’s not that hard. Wynne-Estes. Sound it out … Win … Es … Tes …’
    I smiled. ‘Win-Es-Tes.’
    â€˜Good, good,’ said Garrett, turning his attention back to the book he’d extracted from under the coffee table.
    â€˜Do we really have to do this, Dad?’ said David, but his father ignored him.
    â€˜Budge up a little, Loren,’ Garrett said, ‘I want to show you something.’
    I budged up.
    Garrett had the book open. ‘Now, see this here?’ he said, tapping my forearm to ensure he had my full attention. ‘This here is my family tree. Every branch of our family back to 1650 is in this book. Would you like to see?’
    What could I say? ‘I’d love to.’
    David said: ‘I think I’ll go and see if Mom needs a hand in the kitchen.’
    I thought: Hey, don’t leave me . But he’d gone.
    â€˜Now see this, Loren,’ said Garrett, finger extended towards a photograph of a man with a white handlebar moustache not unlike Garrett’s own. ‘This character here is my second cousin. Edward Garrett Wynne-Estes. Now, he …’
    And so it went on, for six long weeks. Alright, not for six weeks, but you get the picture. David’s father is a drunk and a bore whose family tired of him years ago.
    â€˜How could you leave me there?’ I admonished David afterwards.
    â€˜You’re what my sister and I call fresh meat,’ he said. ‘Somebody new, too polite to ignore him.’
    To his credit, David did rescue me. At some point, Belle came to say the meal was ready to be served, and while Garrett seemed content to ignore her, David then came into the sitting room, saying: ‘That’s enough now. Mom wants to serve.’
    â€˜We can finish later,’ said Garrett, reluctantly closing the book.
    Like most of the big homes on the High Side, Belle and Garrett’s place has a formal dining room. There is a table with eight chairs; David, Belle and I took three in the middle, and Garrett sat at the head.
    Belle had set the table with placemats, napkins in napkin rings, a salt dish, even a soup tureen. I got the feeling these things were the ‘good’ things, taken out only for guests. The glasses came in sets of three: red, white and champagne, but there was no champagne and hardly any wine, except in Garrett’s glass.
    â€˜Tell me, son,’ he said, at one point, ‘how is the gambling business?’
    David was sawing away at the steak on his plate.
    â€˜It’s fine,’ he said, which surprised me. David is opposed to the idea that his business – buying, selling, trading, and investing – is essentially gambling on the stock market.
    â€˜You know, Loren, I had a very successful concrete company,’ said Garrett. ‘Quite a few of the buildings you see over here sit on Garrett Concrete foundations.’
    â€˜Is that right?’ I said politely.
    â€˜We were expecting David to take over that business,’ said Garrett, with his eyes on his plate. ‘You know we sent him to business school in New York with that in mind, but no. David had his own ideas, some of which went pear-shaped.’
    David’s grip