Read Online Yew Tree Gardens by Anna Jacobs - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anna Jacobs
Tags: Saga
Ads: Link
job in a big hotel, hadn’t she? She’d achieved that dream.
If it was humanly possible, she’d make her other dream come true as well. She could be very determined when she wanted something, she’d found. She’d surprised herself since she came to London.
Walter wasn’t stupid enough to think things would be easy for the lad, even with an inheritance. Life never was. But he was sure Gil would have a much better chance of happiness away from his father. The lad had a good heart and that was what mattered. Walter just hoped he’d be spared long enough to see him on his way.
He went to check the train timetables in the master’s Bradshaw to find one for Swindon, where Miss Bennerden’s lawyer was. The railway guide got heavier each year, he thought – must be over a thousand pages in this edition. Still, you could usually rely on it for train times.
Once he’d done that, he went to finish the packing. He’d be glad to get back to the country. He didn’t enjoy city life, any more than his lad did.
The door of the bedroom banged open and Gil came in smiling. ‘It’s just starting to sink in, Walter. I’m free now, I really am. I can go to hell in my own way.’
Walter had had enough of this sort of talk and said sharply, ‘Or you can find something worthwhile to do with your life and stop feeling sorry for yourself.’
Gil gaped at him, shocked by these rough words, but Walter wasn’t smoothing things over.
‘You’ve pitied yourself for long enough now, my lad. There are lots of folk worse off than you, but every time anyone reminds you of that, you go glassy-eyed. Once you’ve claimed this inheritance, I shall expect you to take a hold of things. I’ll not stay with you if you turn to alcohol or sit in a corner feeling sorry for yourself – or even if you laze around doing nothing useful.’
He folded his arms and stared at Gil, not meaning a word of it – as if he could leave his lad – but trying to look as if he would carry out this threat.
Gil sank down on the bed and began to fiddle with the counterpane. ‘I have been feeling sorry for myself. I know I have. But I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of it. You’re right, though. I’m very lucky and I promise you, Walter, I won’t waste this chance.’
That was more like it, Walter thought, hiding his relief.
Miss Bennerden’s lawyers, Perryworth and Mortlake, had rooms just off Regent Street, in the centre of Swindon. When they got off the train, Gil took a chance and simply turned up without an appointment.
Walter waited outside in the cab, chatting to the driver, while the horse stood patiently under an old blanket because it was a chilly day.
Gil didn’t care that it was cold and blowy. He was warmed by hope today. The clerk greeted him with a flattering amount of fuss as soon as he gave his name.
‘I’ll let Mr Mortlake know you’re here, Mr Rycroft. He’ll be delighted to see you.’
He returned almost immediately. ‘Mr Mortlake will be free in five minutes.’
‘Is there a hotel in Swindon you could recommend? My man’s outside with the luggage. I could send him off to book a room.’
‘Won’t you be staying at Oakdene House, sir?’
That hadn’t occurred to Gil. ‘I don’t know anything about my inheritance. I’d assumed there were formalities to complete before I could take possession.’
With a fatherly smile, the clerk said, ‘Mr Mortlake will explain it all and I’ll let your man know to wait. I’m sure the cab driver won’t mind.’
Mr Mortlake was a thin gentleman of about fifty with a bald head, large nose and dark eyes. He resembled an amiable eagle, Gil thought, but there was a shrewdness to his eyes that said he was no one’s fool.
He came across his office to greet the heir, shaking hands and smiling. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Mr Rycroft, delighted. Do take a seat.’
Gil’s arm chose that time to twitch itself out of his pocket and he clutched it with a mutter of
If it was humanly possible, she’d make her other dream come true as well. She could be very determined when she wanted something, she’d found. She’d surprised herself since she came to London.
Walter wasn’t stupid enough to think things would be easy for the lad, even with an inheritance. Life never was. But he was sure Gil would have a much better chance of happiness away from his father. The lad had a good heart and that was what mattered. Walter just hoped he’d be spared long enough to see him on his way.
He went to check the train timetables in the master’s Bradshaw to find one for Swindon, where Miss Bennerden’s lawyer was. The railway guide got heavier each year, he thought – must be over a thousand pages in this edition. Still, you could usually rely on it for train times.
Once he’d done that, he went to finish the packing. He’d be glad to get back to the country. He didn’t enjoy city life, any more than his lad did.
The door of the bedroom banged open and Gil came in smiling. ‘It’s just starting to sink in, Walter. I’m free now, I really am. I can go to hell in my own way.’
Walter had had enough of this sort of talk and said sharply, ‘Or you can find something worthwhile to do with your life and stop feeling sorry for yourself.’
Gil gaped at him, shocked by these rough words, but Walter wasn’t smoothing things over.
‘You’ve pitied yourself for long enough now, my lad. There are lots of folk worse off than you, but every time anyone reminds you of that, you go glassy-eyed. Once you’ve claimed this inheritance, I shall expect you to take a hold of things. I’ll not stay with you if you turn to alcohol or sit in a corner feeling sorry for yourself – or even if you laze around doing nothing useful.’
He folded his arms and stared at Gil, not meaning a word of it – as if he could leave his lad – but trying to look as if he would carry out this threat.
Gil sank down on the bed and began to fiddle with the counterpane. ‘I have been feeling sorry for myself. I know I have. But I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of it. You’re right, though. I’m very lucky and I promise you, Walter, I won’t waste this chance.’
That was more like it, Walter thought, hiding his relief.
Miss Bennerden’s lawyers, Perryworth and Mortlake, had rooms just off Regent Street, in the centre of Swindon. When they got off the train, Gil took a chance and simply turned up without an appointment.
Walter waited outside in the cab, chatting to the driver, while the horse stood patiently under an old blanket because it was a chilly day.
Gil didn’t care that it was cold and blowy. He was warmed by hope today. The clerk greeted him with a flattering amount of fuss as soon as he gave his name.
‘I’ll let Mr Mortlake know you’re here, Mr Rycroft. He’ll be delighted to see you.’
He returned almost immediately. ‘Mr Mortlake will be free in five minutes.’
‘Is there a hotel in Swindon you could recommend? My man’s outside with the luggage. I could send him off to book a room.’
‘Won’t you be staying at Oakdene House, sir?’
That hadn’t occurred to Gil. ‘I don’t know anything about my inheritance. I’d assumed there were formalities to complete before I could take possession.’
With a fatherly smile, the clerk said, ‘Mr Mortlake will explain it all and I’ll let your man know to wait. I’m sure the cab driver won’t mind.’
Mr Mortlake was a thin gentleman of about fifty with a bald head, large nose and dark eyes. He resembled an amiable eagle, Gil thought, but there was a shrewdness to his eyes that said he was no one’s fool.
He came across his office to greet the heir, shaking hands and smiling. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Mr Rycroft, delighted. Do take a seat.’
Gil’s arm chose that time to twitch itself out of his pocket and he clutched it with a mutter of
Similar Books
