“My family lives in Chertsey,” Derek replied, staring out the window once more. “St Paul’s looks magnificent doesn’t it?”
“Even Hitler couldn’t destroy that. Here you are, that’s the office you were looking for.”
Thrilled to see Reginald Tones’ office in one piece, Derek paid his fare and gave the driver a tip to treat his kids.
As he’d expected, Reginald was relieved to see him, confiding he found Mrs. Matthews rather difficult to please.
“Don’t worry about Mrs. Matthews from now on, Reginald. I will invite her this afternoon too. I want her to know I am in charge now. She will live on the money father left for her or she can get a job. Or even marry one of the landed-gentry she is so keen on.”
Reginald’s eyes nearly came out of his sockets but he didn’t agree or disagree.
“I want you to look into something else for me. Do you think Dad’s firm could be sold? It would have to be on condition the current employees, Harold Echols in particular, be retained.”
Reginald took off his glasses and laid them on his walnut desk. He rubbed his head as if to relieve a headache.
“Certainly Derek, it is a valuable business but are you sure you want to sell?”
Derek eyed up the solicitor, would he be interested in buying the thriving practice?
“Absolutely. I spent five years planning my future and working as solicitor never entered my mind once. That was Dad’s role. Maybe Roland would have been happy in the office but not me. I’m a country boy at heart.”
“Are you looking for a quick sale?”
Derek caught the gleam in Reginald’s eyes. The cunning businessman was still very much alive behind the stately airs and grey hairs.
Derek pretended to think about the question.
“Only at the right price Reginald. You will earn 1% of the price for completing this work for me in addition to your usual fees. We can arrange for it to be paid privately if your business wants to acquire Dad’s old clients.”
Derek smiled at the look on the solicitor’s face. The 1% would ensure he got the best price for the business.
“Now, is there anything we need to clear up before the Wills are read this afternoon?”
“No, I don’t think so. There is something else, Derek. You haven’t made a Will. You should. You left your wife unprotected by not having one in place when you went missing.”
Derek sighed. Yet another reminder of his failings as a husband.
“Can you draw one up in time for the meeting this afternoon?”
“It’s complicated Derek.”
“No, it isn’t and we both know it. Everything goes to Sally if anything happens to me. I want that airtight, no interference from my mother. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
41
Derek left the solicitors' office to return home and face the music with his mother. She wouldn’t be happy but he didn’t care. She didn’t love him, didn’t want him around. She never had; he was the spare son to ensure there was an heir if anything happened to Roland.
Roland. How he wished he could tell his brother he missed him. Why hadn’t he made an effort to get to know him when he was alive? It was too late now.
As he walked, he found himself watching children play in the bombed-out remains of people’s homes. A child, about Tom’s age, was kicking a ball, or something that once resembled a ball. He kicked it in Derek’s direction.
“Kick it back, please mister.”
“Haven’t you got a proper ball?”
The child put his head to one side, looking at Derek as if he was an idiot. “Don’t you know there was a war on. Nothing in the shops for us kids. They used rubber and leather for other stuff.”
Amused at being told off by a child, Derek remembered there were some footballs at home. They’d belonged to him and Roland. They were probably still there.
“Will you be here long?”
“Me? I live here. Over there!” He pointed at what looked like a pile of bricks.
“Is your mother home?”
“Why do you want my Ma? I ain’t done nothin’. I was just playing.”
“You’re not in trouble, son. I want to ask her something. Or your Dad.”
“He’s in the pub. He came back from the war but he left his brains behind him. Least that’s what Ma says.”
Derek didn’t comment.
“Ma, some rich fella, in a fancy suit, wants ya.”
The boy’s mother came out of a door behind the rubble, a child on her hip, balancing on the bump of another pregnancy. She looked haggard and weary as if she carried the worries of the world on her shoulders.
“Excuse me for interrupting you missus but I was wondering if your son could come home with me for a few minutes. I don’t live far away, just off Grosvenor Square.”
Suspicion clouded her eyes. “What do you want with our Mikey?”
“I have a football and some other things he might want.”
“We don’t take charity mister. We may be poor but I’m an honest woman.”
“It’s not charity. I’m moving to Chertsey and need to empty the house. He’d been doing me a favor.”
“You sure?”
“Please Ma let me go. I can protect myself. I’ll kick him hard if he tries anything funny.”
“Go on then, pet, but don’t be long.”
Mikey walked beside Derek as they made their way back.
“You like living in the country?”
“Yes, Mikey I do. I can’t wait to get back.”
“I lived in the country when they sent us away. I didn’t like it. All those animals made such a racket I couldn’t sleep. I prefer it now we are back with Ma.”
“Your mother seems like a decent woman.”
“She is. She’d be better off if Da didn’t come back from the war. Any money she has, he just beats her and takes it. He goes down the
