Once Again Assembled Here by Sean O'Brien

Author:Sean O'Brien [O’Brien, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan

TWENTY-ONE

The next morning was bright and cold. I sat in the kitchen drinking coffee. I hoped Shirley was OK and I wanted to go round and shout at her. The phone rang. I ignored it but it didn’t stop.

It was Maggie. ‘I’m thinking of taking the boat down to Carr’s Point,’ she said. ‘We could take a picnic. I might do some sketches.’ This was the first time I had been invited aboard Lorelei. It was hard to refuse, though doing something in public together was a risk. Perhaps she was testing me.

‘It’s a bit chilly for the seaside,’ I said.

‘You can keep your clothes on.’

‘And anyway, I’m afraid I have a prior engagement. I’m sorry.’

‘So what are you up to? Don’t be secretive.’

‘I’ve arranged to have Carson’s books valued by Feldberg’s. Got to be done. Sorry.’

‘Well, I’ll come and help. I’ve always wanted to see round that place.’ She was not in a mood to be denied another wish.

‘I’m not sure that would be proper. I’m there as the executor. The legal process isn’t finished yet.’

‘Stephen, who’s to know? Honestly! What are you hiding? Have you got a floozy hidden away there?’

‘I’ll see you there at Victoria Park at eleven, then.’

When I arrived Maggie’s green Triumph Herald was parked outside. She got out of the car and came over. She was dressed in painting gear.

‘It’ll be dusty, I imagine,’ she said.

I let us into the wide, dark hall with its chilly black-and-maroon floor tiles. The house smelt of emptiness and something the world had done with. I had only visited the place a couple of times, in connection with work.

‘The study’s on the first floor,’ I said. We went up. I opened the curtains but the day had clouded over now. I switched on the desk lamp.

‘So this is the famous Carson lair,’ Maggie said. ‘This is where he’d lean like Caesar over the map. And here we have Herodotus over the fireplace giving birth to history single-handed. I think that one’s Gibbon. Who’s that one?’

‘Macaulay, I think.’

‘God, it’s like a classroom without the boys. It’s morbid. Didn’t the old beggar live, at all?’

‘He was a historian.’

‘You mean he was a history teacher. I repeat my question.’

A familiar folder lay on the desk. I opened it.

‘What’s that you’ve got?’ I showed her. ‘Oh, that. The legendary item.’ She opened a window and lit a cigarette, then leaned back on the ledge. ‘You know it’s fake.’

‘I don’t know that, actually. What makes you think so?’

‘Something my brother said. Old Carson and his Führer fetish, as he put it.’

‘Maggie, please. This is Carson’s house. And it’s difficult for me.’

‘Well, I’m sorry, Stephen. I’ll try to be more humble around the shrine. I just find all this Hitler stuff a bit morbid. I mean, it’s ages since all that business with the war. It was enough of a pain at the time. Why would anyone want to dwell on it?’

Perhaps you should ask your brother, I thought.

‘You’re just being mischievous,’ I said. ‘If you’re bored, don’t feel you have to stay.

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