three-quarters full.
‘How many people did Uncle Eustace employ, for crying out loud?’
His panic-stricken cry brought Linda to his side. It took only a matter of seconds before she noticed that the vast majority of the pages contained a start and finish date. Only four were still active. He sighed with relief and thanked his lucky stars that he had had the courage to ask her to come to the manor with him. He would be lost without her.
‘I would be lost without you.’
She smiled and nodded. There then ensued one of their habitual awkward silences, until a noise at the door awakened Jasper’s guard dog instincts. He released his hold on the shoe and raced across to the door. On the way, he emitted a fearful bark, designed to put the fear of God into any intruders. That was certainly the effect it had upon Roger and Linda. They both recoiled in shock.
‘Jasper, Jasper. For God’s sake, shush.’
Roger went over to the door and, dog in one hand, turned the handle. He was confronted by an extremely large lady holding a duster and a bottle of Brasso. The dog lurched forward but then, registering the expression of hostile disapproval on her face, changed his mind. He retreated backwards into the room with all the aplomb of a centre forward, watching the opposition goalkeeper clear his line. The sudden change of direction completely wrong-footed Roger. Losing his grip on the collar, he also lost his footing on the polished parquet. He ended up flat on his back.
‘My name is Vinnicombe, Mrs Vinnicombe. We have not been formally introduced yet.’ She palmed the Brasso professionally and extended a shiny black and green hand to him, as he hauled himself up from the floor. He smiled self-consciously and took the proffered hand.
‘Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Vinnicombe. My name is Dalby, Roger Dalby. Mr McKinnon was my uncle, my mother’s brother. This is my colleague and personal assistant, Linda Reid. We were just commenting upon how clean and polished the house is. Very impressive.’
‘Yes, Mrs Vinnicombe, you should be very proud of your work here.’
Linda’s enthusiastic tone seemed to do the trick. They both saw the hint of a smile before, as if by magic, the Brasso reappeared in her right hand and she was gone. Roger looked across the room to where Linda was standing, the huge black dog tucked in right behind her legs for protection.
‘Seems we have the answer to Jasper’s discipline problems.’ They both laughed. Roger’s mirth was tempered by the fact that his sock was sticking now out of a hole in the toe of one shoe. ‘I must have a word with you, my friend.’ The dog affected to look suitably chastened, but fooled neither of them.
Transferring his attention back to the desk, he spotted something propped up right at the back. It was a light-blue envelope. On the top left was the crest, with which he was beginning to become quite familiar. It cropped up all over the manor on plates, ashtrays, books and even toilet seats: McKinnon Marine and the crossed anchors. Then he saw, to his surprise, that the envelope itself was addressed to him, Professor Roger Alastair McKinnon Dalby. He picked it up, noting the insertion of his mother’s maiden name, which he had never used. The paper was stiff, heavy and a bit dusty. It had obviously been waiting there for some considerable time. The handwriting was spidery and untidy. It could have been that of a child, but he felt pretty sure it was that of an old man. He slipped his finger under the flap and tore it open. He was not wrong. There was a single sheet of paper inside, again written by the same shaky hand. It was dated five years earlier.
My Dear Nephew
By the time you read this, I will have succumbed to this damn illness, lost my mind and then passed on. The manor will be yours and I hope you love the place as I have done. Please look after the staff who are all, in their way, loyal and devoted friends. There is but one cloud upon the horizon,
‘How many people did Uncle Eustace employ, for crying out loud?’
His panic-stricken cry brought Linda to his side. It took only a matter of seconds before she noticed that the vast majority of the pages contained a start and finish date. Only four were still active. He sighed with relief and thanked his lucky stars that he had had the courage to ask her to come to the manor with him. He would be lost without her.
‘I would be lost without you.’
She smiled and nodded. There then ensued one of their habitual awkward silences, until a noise at the door awakened Jasper’s guard dog instincts. He released his hold on the shoe and raced across to the door. On the way, he emitted a fearful bark, designed to put the fear of God into any intruders. That was certainly the effect it had upon Roger and Linda. They both recoiled in shock.
‘Jasper, Jasper. For God’s sake, shush.’
Roger went over to the door and, dog in one hand, turned the handle. He was confronted by an extremely large lady holding a duster and a bottle of Brasso. The dog lurched forward but then, registering the expression of hostile disapproval on her face, changed his mind. He retreated backwards into the room with all the aplomb of a centre forward, watching the opposition goalkeeper clear his line. The sudden change of direction completely wrong-footed Roger. Losing his grip on the collar, he also lost his footing on the polished parquet. He ended up flat on his back.
‘My name is Vinnicombe, Mrs Vinnicombe. We have not been formally introduced yet.’ She palmed the Brasso professionally and extended a shiny black and green hand to him, as he hauled himself up from the floor. He smiled self-consciously and took the proffered hand.
‘Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Vinnicombe. My name is Dalby, Roger Dalby. Mr McKinnon was my uncle, my mother’s brother. This is my colleague and personal assistant, Linda Reid. We were just commenting upon how clean and polished the house is. Very impressive.’
‘Yes, Mrs Vinnicombe, you should be very proud of your work here.’
Linda’s enthusiastic tone seemed to do the trick. They both saw the hint of a smile before, as if by magic, the Brasso reappeared in her right hand and she was gone. Roger looked across the room to where Linda was standing, the huge black dog tucked in right behind her legs for protection.
‘Seems we have the answer to Jasper’s discipline problems.’ They both laughed. Roger’s mirth was tempered by the fact that his sock was sticking now out of a hole in the toe of one shoe. ‘I must have a word with you, my friend.’ The dog affected to look suitably chastened, but fooled neither of them.
Transferring his attention back to the desk, he spotted something propped up right at the back. It was a light-blue envelope. On the top left was the crest, with which he was beginning to become quite familiar. It cropped up all over the manor on plates, ashtrays, books and even toilet seats: McKinnon Marine and the crossed anchors. Then he saw, to his surprise, that the envelope itself was addressed to him, Professor Roger Alastair McKinnon Dalby. He picked it up, noting the insertion of his mother’s maiden name, which he had never used. The paper was stiff, heavy and a bit dusty. It had obviously been waiting there for some considerable time. The handwriting was spidery and untidy. It could have been that of a child, but he felt pretty sure it was that of an old man. He slipped his finger under the flap and tore it open. He was not wrong. There was a single sheet of paper inside, again written by the same shaky hand. It was dated five years earlier.
My Dear Nephew
By the time you read this, I will have succumbed to this damn illness, lost my mind and then passed on. The manor will be yours and I hope you love the place as I have done. Please look after the staff who are all, in their way, loyal and devoted friends. There is but one cloud upon the horizon,
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