Thirty Pieces of Silver by Ruth Parry

Author:Ruth Parry
Format: epub

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

On hearing the unmistakable clatter of a bicycle being discarded by the back gate, one can safely assume Billy has arrived. He knocks lightly on the kitchen door and then waits.

“Come in, Billy.” He enters with a swagger, clutching a dog-eared jotter and pencil. The initials G.L.W. are just visible but have been scribbled out. Presumably, the item belonged to the young master, a hand-me-down.

Sat at the table and enjoying my vegetable soup with crusty bread and best butter, I see the youngster eyeing my food with envy.

“Have you had your tea, Billy?”

He stares at his boots whilst chewing his fingernails before adding. “Oh, I get fed up at the ‘ouse.”

“Not today; you left early.”

He removes his cap, twisting it between his hands; he's hiding something.

“If I eat at ‘ome, there's less for the others.” I must admit I understand his rationale. It makes perfect sense.

“Come on.” After pushing out the chair, an invitation for Billy to sit, I cut a thick slice of bread and coat it in butter. To my utter surprise, Ms Swincoe serves up a bowl of soup.

“Finish that up, will you, Billy, there's a good lad, then I can wash the big pot.” She ruffles his hair. I knew what she was doing and smiled agreeably. The food is piping hot, but Billy clears the lot, wiping the bowl clean with the crusty bread, careful to get every last drop. Quite frankly, I'm surprised the bowl retains its pattern.

“Let’s get to it.” Billy then produces his homework.

After an hour or so, it becomes evident the youngster’s patience is beginning to wane.

“Let’s call it a night.” But I'm surprised at his aptitude for schooling; he’s really rather bright. “Go on, Billy, get away off home. It's been a long day.”

Stood on the step, enjoying a cigarette, I wave Billy off when he asks, “What's a marriage contract, Sep?” A peculiar statement coming from one so young. I take a moment to analyse the question.

“Wherever did you hear that?” He does that thing again, twisting his cap.

“Walter was shouting at Imelda.”

On this occasion, I justify my answer with a lie. “I'm not entirely sure.”

Billy’s features show disappointment before he disappears along the ginnel, pedalling as fast as his legs will go while I watch him go and ponder Imelda's prenuptial agreement—an American thing, if my memory serves me correctly. A contract entered into prior to the marriage, the content can vary widely, and more common for the wife to agree to the terms set by the husband rather than the other way around. Yet if the rumours are true, Imelda came into the marriage with a substantial fortune, whereas the colonel owned the land and rental properties. Now I've done a bit of digging and found a covenant in the previous Will preventing the assets from being sold off, and the estate must be passed to the eldest son. However, in a barren marriage, the most senior males on the estate's paternal bloodline inherit the lot, thus keeping the assets safely within the Longley-Walsh lineage.

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