A Fool and His Money by Marina Pascoe Page B

it?’
    â€˜No – but maybe it’s a name that means something to him – like his mother’s maiden name or something. Or, maybe it is his real name and we just haven’t come across him.’
    â€˜Well, we need to come across him – if this is true, it’s vitally important that we speak to him. We have to start with the name he’s given and try to find out about him. You can ask those layabouts out there to start on that.’
    Bartlett was gesturing towards the main office where two constables had spent the morning trying to look invisible in order not to have to do anything.
    â€˜When you’ve done that, we must arrange to speak to anyone we haven’t already spoken to and who live on the approaches to Hunter’s Path. Maybe there’s still someone who saw something that night. Get on to all that will you, Boase?’
    â€˜Of course, sir.’
    â€˜Oh, before I forget, Caroline and Irene were wondering if you’d like to come over this evening – Irene’s got some new card games she wants to try out on us. Fancy it?’
    â€˜That’d be lovely, sir. I was thinking of calling on Irene to see if she’d like a walk later on anyway’
    â€˜Good. Come over at about seven?’

Chapter Five
    Irene dealt the cards out to the small group around the table: her parents, Boase, and herself.
    Boase watched as the diamond engagement ring he had recently bought her flashed in the light of the parlour. He smiled to himself and, when Irene caught him, smiled at her. He had worried that she wouldn’t like it – but he was wrong. Every night the ring was returned safely to its box on the bedside table and every morning the box was opened and Irene looked at it again. Now, as they were introduced to yet another new card game, Boase felt happy. He hated cards – ever since the long days and nights in the trenches when any spare moment not occupied with writing letters home seemed to be spent in endless card games. No, Boase did not like card games – but, for Irene, anything.
    Bartlett rose from his seat.
    â€˜I think I find it strange now.’
    Caroline looked at him.
    â€˜What’s strange, George?’
    â€˜Well, that I still call this young man – soon to be my son-in-law – “Boase”.’
    â€˜Well, that is my name, sir.’
    â€˜ And that you call me “sir”. I think we shall have to stay as we are at work but, other than that, I will call you “Archie” – if that’s all right with you?’
    â€˜Of course it is.’
    â€˜And you – well, what do you think, Princess?’
    George Bartlett looked at his wife.
    â€˜I did say before, George, that Archie should perhaps call you “George”.’
    â€˜Well, that is my name – yes. “George” it shall be. That’s that sorted then. Would you like a Leonard’s, Archie?’
    â€˜Yes, I would, please … George.’ Boase felt uncomfortable with this arrangement but knew things had to change now.
    Bartlett handed over a bottle of his beloved Leonard’s London Beer and a glass.
    â€˜Here you are – why don’t we sit in the comfortable chairs – I’ve had enough of cards for now, Irene.’
    â€˜All right, Dad. I’ll put them away – I’m just going to make some tea for Mum and me.’
    Bartlett and Boase sat by the fire and Topper sat on the floor between them.
    â€˜I can’t believe that we still light a fire at this time of the year, my boy – but Caroline feels the cold rather a lot and I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.’
    â€˜I think it’s rather nice, sir – I mean, George . I like a nice fire.’
    Boase looked into the flames.
    â€˜Do you think there’ll be another war, sir?’
    â€˜I hope not, my boy. I certainly hope not. And I don’t believe there will be – surely we’ve learned