Australia.
Surely the ship’s doctor knew what Leo was like?
3
M r Featherworth arrived back in Outham on the Tuesday evening, to be greeted by a hailstorm. Wishing he too could spend some time in a warmer climate, he sat shivering in the cab as the horse clopped past the gas lamps that lit the streets in the better parts of town.
He was glad to be home again, feeling satisfied he’d done the best he could for his clients. It was a matter of waiting now and looking after their inheritance, but he felt sure that young man would bring the Blake sisters back safely.
When he went to his rooms the following day, it was his clerk who brought in his morning tea tray, not the office lad, a sure sign that Ralph Dawson wanted to discuss something with him. Well, his clerk had been with him a long time and could be relied on not to make mountains out of molehills, so it usually paid to listen to him. ‘Why don’t you fetch a cup and join me?’
When they were seated on either side of the fire, Ralph said abruptly, ‘Something’s cropped up with Prebble.’
‘Oh?’
‘It looks like he’s been taking the money you sent to Dot and supplying her with food from the shop.’
‘Is there anything wrong with that? You told me he keeps meticulous accounts. Does what he lists seems unreasonable?’
‘No, it doesn’t, but there’s at least one item showing weekly – and every week too – which Dot has never received: a pound of plain biscuits. Miss Blair drew that to my attention when I showed her the recent accounts. She’s going to check them with Dot and will let us know later this morning which items really were given to the maid.’
Mr Featherworth’s heart sank. The thought of dealing with a dishonest employee, perhaps having to dismiss him, made him shudder. If Harry Prebble turned out to be a thief, how was he to find someone to run the shop until Carr returned, which wouldn’t be for seven months or more? What did a lawyer know about the grocery business? ‘I’m sure there will be some reasonable explanation.’
Ralph gave him a disbelieving look.
‘You don’t think so?’
‘I’ve never liked Prebble, sir, you know that, which is why I urged you to find someone reliable to occupy the living quarters.’
‘We need him.’
‘We need someone to run the shop. He isn’t the only person who could do it. An older man would be more reliable. We could still advertise for a manager in the Manchester newspaper, as I suggested we do in the first place, if you remember.’
Mr Featherworth wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. ‘A stranger wouldn’t know how things are organised and it’s not for us to make a permanent appointment. That’s the owners’ job. I’d – um – better speak to Prebble, I suppose.’
‘May I be present when you do, sir?’
‘Yes. Definitely. I shall welcome your support. Send a message asking him to call this afternoon at two o’clock. And bring me the information Miss Blair sends as soon as it arrives. Oh dear, dear, dear! What a thing to happen!’
He watched the clerk finish his cup of tea and leave the room. Ralph came from a good family which had fallen on hard times, so hadn’t had an easy life. This had made him wary, a wariness that had paid off more than once in their dealings with clients. Mr Featherworth didn’t know what he’d do without his clerk. But one had to be careful about accusing a man of stealing.
The trouble was . . . Mr Featherworth sighed and admitted to himself that he didn’t really like Prebble, either, not now he’d got to know him better. He’d not have appointed him as temporary manager if Zachary hadn’t been the best man to send to Australia to bring back the heirs.
But surely there would be some explanation for the anomalies?
The Clara sailed from London on 11th January, heading for Portland, where it would pick up the convicts who, with their guards and the guards’ families, made up the largest group of passengers. The
Surely the ship’s doctor knew what Leo was like?
3
M r Featherworth arrived back in Outham on the Tuesday evening, to be greeted by a hailstorm. Wishing he too could spend some time in a warmer climate, he sat shivering in the cab as the horse clopped past the gas lamps that lit the streets in the better parts of town.
He was glad to be home again, feeling satisfied he’d done the best he could for his clients. It was a matter of waiting now and looking after their inheritance, but he felt sure that young man would bring the Blake sisters back safely.
When he went to his rooms the following day, it was his clerk who brought in his morning tea tray, not the office lad, a sure sign that Ralph Dawson wanted to discuss something with him. Well, his clerk had been with him a long time and could be relied on not to make mountains out of molehills, so it usually paid to listen to him. ‘Why don’t you fetch a cup and join me?’
When they were seated on either side of the fire, Ralph said abruptly, ‘Something’s cropped up with Prebble.’
‘Oh?’
‘It looks like he’s been taking the money you sent to Dot and supplying her with food from the shop.’
‘Is there anything wrong with that? You told me he keeps meticulous accounts. Does what he lists seems unreasonable?’
‘No, it doesn’t, but there’s at least one item showing weekly – and every week too – which Dot has never received: a pound of plain biscuits. Miss Blair drew that to my attention when I showed her the recent accounts. She’s going to check them with Dot and will let us know later this morning which items really were given to the maid.’
Mr Featherworth’s heart sank. The thought of dealing with a dishonest employee, perhaps having to dismiss him, made him shudder. If Harry Prebble turned out to be a thief, how was he to find someone to run the shop until Carr returned, which wouldn’t be for seven months or more? What did a lawyer know about the grocery business? ‘I’m sure there will be some reasonable explanation.’
Ralph gave him a disbelieving look.
‘You don’t think so?’
‘I’ve never liked Prebble, sir, you know that, which is why I urged you to find someone reliable to occupy the living quarters.’
‘We need him.’
‘We need someone to run the shop. He isn’t the only person who could do it. An older man would be more reliable. We could still advertise for a manager in the Manchester newspaper, as I suggested we do in the first place, if you remember.’
Mr Featherworth wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. ‘A stranger wouldn’t know how things are organised and it’s not for us to make a permanent appointment. That’s the owners’ job. I’d – um – better speak to Prebble, I suppose.’
‘May I be present when you do, sir?’
‘Yes. Definitely. I shall welcome your support. Send a message asking him to call this afternoon at two o’clock. And bring me the information Miss Blair sends as soon as it arrives. Oh dear, dear, dear! What a thing to happen!’
He watched the clerk finish his cup of tea and leave the room. Ralph came from a good family which had fallen on hard times, so hadn’t had an easy life. This had made him wary, a wariness that had paid off more than once in their dealings with clients. Mr Featherworth didn’t know what he’d do without his clerk. But one had to be careful about accusing a man of stealing.
The trouble was . . . Mr Featherworth sighed and admitted to himself that he didn’t really like Prebble, either, not now he’d got to know him better. He’d not have appointed him as temporary manager if Zachary hadn’t been the best man to send to Australia to bring back the heirs.
But surely there would be some explanation for the anomalies?
The Clara sailed from London on 11th January, heading for Portland, where it would pick up the convicts who, with their guards and the guards’ families, made up the largest group of passengers. The
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