Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection. Josephine Cox

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СКАЧАТЬ me rotten when my parents died, and he and Gramma Sophie came over to England to take me back with them.’ A lump came into his throat. His parents had died when he was four, in an influenza epidemic in London. ‘It shook me to the core when you told me he was in so much debt, he was on the brink of losing everything.’

      When he looked up, his expression was pained. ‘Why in God’s name did he have to be so proud?’ he said thickly. ‘If only he had confided in me, I would have helped. Dear Lord, it must have troubled him so much!’

      ‘I pleaded with him time and again to contact you,’ the big attorney said sadly. ‘I would have contacted you myself, but he absolutely forbade it.’ He threw his arms out in a gesture of helplessness. ‘All along, he insisted he had everything under control. I wasn’t privy to all your grandfather’s interests, so of course I took him at his word.’

      Just then, a tap sounded on the door and in came the young woman called Clara with a tray containing a big pot of coffee, a jug of cream and a plate of delicious-looking biscuits. She poured them each a cup, and said with a smile, ‘If there’s anything else, you will let me know, won’t you?’

      The big man held out the plate. ‘Cookie?’

      Leonard took one. ‘However could my grandfather have got so deep into gambling?’ he mused aloud for the hundredth time, before drinking a sip of coffee and biting into the biscuit.

      ‘You recall I told you about the two Irish brothers that Farley befriended?’ the lawyer asked. ‘How they came to work for him at the spread and turned up drunk one night, with a racehorse they’d won on the gambling. Your grandfather had been awful lonely these past few years, ever since he lost his wife. He found a welcome distraction at the racetrack, and he had a few lucky strikes before it all went wrong. You see, like all gamblers, he always believed the next big win was just around the corner.’ He shrugged. ‘An intelligent man like that … He wasn’t the first to get in above his head and you can bet your bottom dollar he won’t be the last. It’s a sad thing, Lenny – but it happens.’

      Deep down, if he was honest with himself, Leonard had not been too surprised at what the lawyer had told him. ‘He always liked to place a bet on sporting events,’ he admitted. ‘I recall Grandmother lecturing him one time, but it was never a problem, not then anyway. And why in God’s name did the banks let him get into so much debt?’

      The attorney pointed to the file on his desk. ‘As you’ve already seen, it wasn’t only the banks, though they were by far the biggest creditors. Mr Kemp borrowed money from whoever would lend it, and no one refused, because they knew him as a respected and reliable man who ran one of the biggest homesteads in this part of Massachusetts. The Depression has affected everyone here in the States, as it has in your country, and these people want their loans repaying. They need that money, Lenny.’

      ‘And now, if we can’t agree a settlement, everything may have to be sold.’ Leonard recalled the place where he had spent so many wonderful childhood years, and his face set grimly. ‘I swear I’ll behave honourably towards everyone who is owed money, but at the same time, I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep the land.’

      The other man heard the passion in his client’s voice and saw how his fists instinctively clenched. ‘We’ve done all we can,’ he assured him. ‘Tomorrow morning will tell us if it was enough.’

      Despairing but not altogether without hope, Leonard returned to his hotel in Beacon Hill. So preoccupied was he, he hardly noticed the pretty cobblestoned streets and grand old townhouses that characterised this famed quarter of Boston. Feverishly, he went through his notes yet again, then packed them away into his briefcase. He glanced at the clock and, seeing how he had hours before he could sleep, slipped his jacket on and went out to find the nearest bar.

      Ordering a beer, he went to sit at a table in the corner, where he thought ahead to the imminent, all-important meeting with the creditors. How would they react to his offer? Would they accept it as the best course open to them? Or would they insist that the Kemp estate be sold and the monies split between them?

      Gulping down his beer, he felt nervous and worried.

      What if it all went wrong?

      What if the estate went to auction and was lost forever? Certainly he could never afford to bid for it.

      What if this … what if that. His mind was in a whirl.

      With so much at stake, tomorrow could not come quickly enough.

      The following morning, Leonard climbed out of bed, weary from lack of sleep and eager to be on his way. He showered and shaved and put on a clean shirt and an expensive silk tie that Patricia had bought for him. Looking at his image in the mirror he shook his head. ‘God Almighty, look at the state of you!’ With dark circles under his eyes and wisps of unruly hair protruding from behind his ears, he presented a sorry picture. ‘Leonard Maitland, you’re a damned mess.’

      Slicking back the clumps of hair, he fastened his jacket, straightened his tie and turned away. He was ready to do battle. And with that he went smartly out of the room.

      Farley Kemp had borrowed money from many sources, but the largest slice of debt was owed to a major bank. The meeting was scheduled to take place there.

      The doorman whistled up a cab. Handing him a dime for his trouble, Leonard climbed in and gave directions to the bank. Settling himself into his seat with the all-important documents on his lap, he peered out at the Boston streets, seeing nothing.

      On arriving at his destination, he paid the cabbie and watched him drive away. For a long, pensive moment he stood on the sidewalk looking up at the building; an imposing structure with dark-suited businessmen arriving and departing through its doors. This was the place where his future would be decided.

      As he came out of the elevator, he could hear them: the shuffle and bustle of many people in one room; the scraping of chairs and the pacing of footsteps; and as he opened the door to the offices, he could almost smell their anger.

      Suddenly, a cloak of silence fell over the room as all eyes turned to look at him. Nervous and unsure, he nodded, his confident smile belying the turmoil inside.

      ‘Very well, gentlemen.’ Justin Lovatt took the chair. ‘We’re all here now, so we may as well get started.’

      Everyone present made their way to the large oval table in the centre of the room. When they were seated, Leonard noted that some men were softly talking, while others sat in silence, looking angry and morose. All had but one purpose in mind: to get their money back.

      When he had first entered the room, his eyes were instinctively drawn to a large, bespectacled man who, seeming to keep his distance from the others, was staring out of the window. It was he who now voiced what everyone else was thinking. ‘Mr Lovatt, before you begin proceedings, can I just tell you this. All we want is to get back what we lent in good faith.’ His voice was surprisingly calm and soft. ‘We all have businesses to run, so let’s get on with it.’

      Two hours later, they were still ‘getting on with it’.

      An hour into the meeting, the men were on their feet, declaring with raised voices that they wanted every cent back and would not settle for half measures. No amount of persuasion from Justin Lovatt could convince them of any other way forward.

      Deeply frustrated and losing hope, Leonard asked permission to speak. He was initially greeted with a hubbub of noise from enraged men who would not be pacified, but then СКАЧАТЬ