knock-down sale of all this machinery.” He pointed at the Works, which had been built and equipped earlier that year.
“How much is the sum required?”
“About eighty pounds, I think.”
“Can’t we rake round and find eighty pounds?” said Phillip. He was thinking of ‘Mister’ paying back what he had borrowed from the Boys, from time to time.
“The trouble is, old chap, I haven’t a bean to bless my name with. It’s all tied up with trustees. In fact, I owe the Boys some money, with no prospect of paying it back just yet, otherwise I would.”
“I’ve got only seven quid in the bank.”
“The trouble is, they’ve no idea of business. Some of that new machinery in the Works isn’t paid for. From what I can gather they lost a couple of hundred pounds on the Gasworks contract, putting on that roof. Well, I must be off, I suppose.” ‘Mister’ sighed. “I suppose you can’t come to supper? It’s dashed dull at home these days.”
“Many thanks, ‘Mister’, but I must get back.”
“When are you and Lucy coming to stay? Oh, before I forget, the magneto of this beastly Onion has gone wrong again. Before you go, ask Ernest to come over and have a look at it, will you? Tell him to come to dinner tonight, will you? Now, be a good fellow and let me have a gallon of petrol. I would have done it myself, but the beastly pump’s locked for some reason. The key is in the office, I expect. They usually keep it on the top of the till.”
He found the office door locked and got in at the window facing the railway cutting. The till was open and empty, the key lying on top.
“Shall I book it, ‘Mister’?”
The old man hesitated; then said, “Oh yes, you might as well, I suppose, old chap. Now be a good fellow and shove me off, will you? This beastly asthma always comes back in the autumn, dash it.”
*
When Lucy heard about the Boys’ troubles she thought to ask Uncle John’s advice when she took Billy there to tea, as was the Sunday custom, while Phillip stayed at home and tried to write.Perhaps she could sell her share of the marriage settlement. Uncle John had been a barrister, and would know about such things.
“The Boys have had their share, I think about a thousand pounds each. I’d like to sell, well, some of mine, anyway.”
“For an agricultural speculation, Lucy?”
“Well, partly,” she answered, blushing. It had not occurred to her that Phillip did not want Hilary to know about the Iron Horses.
“Let me share in it, Lucy.” He went on, “After all, it’s a job well done. The weathering will do good to the soil. In the spring a scattering of what they call ‘artificials’ before drilling lucerne, or sanfoin—lucerne perhaps on the drier fields, since it puts down deep roots—with ryegrass and clover should result in sound grazing. That is what Hilary is after: when he was here last his idea was that all the farms should turn over to stock, and so the deep ploughings, which could not have been done with horses, are just the thing. With balanced grazing I am sure the land will be brought back into heart. Now with your permission, I’ll take care of Johnson’s account. Be sure that I will not mention to Phillip that you have been here to talk about it. Before you spoke of it, I had intended to propose to Phillip that he allow me to regard it as an investment for the future. After all, what little I have, beyond my annuity, will eventually come to Phillip. I’ll telephone Johnson first thing tomorrow and ask him to bring back the Iron Horses, so that the Big Wheatfield can be drilled before the shoot.”
“Iron Horsey come back?” exclaimed Billy, happily. “Daddy come back too, Mummy?”
“Of course, darling.” Poor Billy, did he miss his real mother, without knowing it? She had heard that a breast-fed baby was usually more contented than one fed only on the bottle.
And everywhere in these desolate places I see the faces and figures of enslaved men, the
Cecy Robson
Hammond Innes
Ruth Rendell
Louis Kirby
Susanna Gregory
Gertrude Chandler Warner
Auburn Seal
M.R.
Henry Miller
Tom Mangold