The Surplus Girls by Polly Heron

Author:Polly Heron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atlantic Books

Chapter Eighteen

HELL’S TEETH! GABRIEL LINKWORTH, back from the dead. Gabriel flaming Linkworth. How many times had Richard prevailed upon Uncle Reg to change his will and get rid of all mention of his other nephew?

‘No need,’ Uncle Reg had maintained. ‘If Gabriel predeceases me, which he evidently has, everything comes to you. Nothing simpler.’

‘That’s not strictly true.’ Richard had sounded goodhumoured, as if changing the will was for Uncle Reg’s peace of mind. ‘The most straightforward thing would be to remove his name.’

‘What for? He’s dead and gone, poor fellow.’

‘Precisely – which is a great shame and all that. I know you thought highly of him. After all, you made him your principal heir.’ Clever, that, recognising Linkworth’s importance. ‘But you say you want things to be simple.’ He had adopted a thoughtful tone. ‘When the moment comes, which I hope won’t be for a long time yet, but when it does, there’ll be the additional trouble of having Linkworth officially declared dead.’

‘Huh.’ Never a good sign, that. Huh was never a good sign. ‘I’ve already asked my solicitor. When Gabriel has been missing for seven years, having him declared dead will be a formality; so, as long as I drag myself past 1925, you’ll be all right.’

‘I never meant—’

‘I know, I know.’ His voice was gruff. They were inches from another huh. ‘You want simplicity. Here it is. Everything is left to Gabriel. If he predeceases me, everything comes to you. He has predeceased me. It’s all yours. No need to change the will.’

And nothing short of dynamite was going to shift the old boy from that point of view. It hadn’t been ideal, but at least it had seemed safe to leave things as they were. After all, Gabriel Linkworth was dead.

Except that he wasn’t. He was standing here, in the shop, looking troubled. Older too, but then didn’t they all look older, everyone who had been through the war, and not just because its length had piled a few birthdays on them. Linkworth looked subtly different – thinner in the face. Not that Richard really knew him. They had met just the once, at Aunt Victoria’s funeral. All the Linkworths had attended: Mr and Mrs and the two grown-up sons. The other son had copped it in the war – really copped it. Not like his bloody brother, missing presumed dead all this time and turning up now, alive and well and ready to scoop up the inheritance.

Well, Richard wasn’t having it. He wasn’t ruddy having it. Claiming never to have seen Gabriel Linkworth before had been automatic, the instinctive response to keep his inheritance safe. Even if Linkworth hadn’t lost his memory, he would still have said those words. Hell’s teeth, Uncle Reg had believed him to be dead. Uncle Reg had been content for Richard to inherit. He had expected Richard to inherit.

Bloody Linkworth. Coming back, ruining everything.

Fury roared in Richard’s ears. The cords tightened in his neck, but he mustn’t show his anger.

I’ve never seen this man before in my life.

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