Harvest of War by Hilary Green Page B

of luck had come his way and, moreover, that he had been drinking to console himself.
    He stared at Tom for a moment as if he did not recognize him and then barked: ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
    â€˜Waiting for you, sir,’ Tom replied.
    â€˜Skiving off, eh? Things got a bit too hot for you out there?’
    â€˜No!’
    â€˜Got yourself cashiered, is that it? Conduct unbecoming? Well, it’s no good coming to me to bail you out.’
    â€˜No,’ Tom said, trying to keep his voice level, ‘that’s not why I’m here. I’m on leave, quite legitimately, and I’ve been made aware that there are things at home that require your attention. I want you to come home with me.’
    â€˜Been made aware, have you?’ his father repeated satirically. ‘Aware of what, may I ask?’
    â€˜Certain financial matters.’
    â€˜Financial matters? You insolent puppy! What do you know about my financial matters?’
    â€˜I know,’ Tom said, lowering his voice, ‘that if something is not done soon you and mother may be turned out of the house.’
    â€˜Turned out!
Turned out!
How dare you come here and make threats like that to me? I know what it is. You’re worried about your inheritance! Well, let me tell you this. You can starve in the gutter for all I care. You and your arty-crafty friends. Don’t you come here and tell me how to conduct my life. Now get out, before I take my stick to you!’
    His father’s face had gone from red to purple and his eyes were bulging, so that Tom found himself wondering if people really did die of apoplexy. His raised voice had drawn disapproving looks and mutters from the other occupants of the bar and at that moment two of the club stewards appeared at his elbows.
    â€˜Now then, sir. Let’s calm down, shall we? Or we’ll have to ask you to leave.’
    â€˜Calm down! Calm down! Just let me get at him, the cowardly dog! I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget.’
    â€˜Come along, sir. No need for any trouble. The young gentleman didn’t mean any harm. Why don’t you let us take you up to your room? Time to dress for dinner, isn’t it?’
    Murmuring similar soothing platitudes the two men manoeuvred Sir George, still muttering threats and curses, out of the room. The club secretary had followed them in and turned to Tom.
    â€˜Sorry about that, Lieutenant. But you see our problem.’
    â€˜I do indeed,’ Tom responded shakily. ‘Unfortunately, I have no idea what to do about it.’
    â€˜It’s not the first time this sort of thing has happened. I’m afraid if it goes on we shall have no alternative but to ask Sir George to leave. The other members won’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.’
    â€˜I understand,’ Tom said. ‘You must do as you think fit. I’m afraid if I try to interfere any further it will only make things worse.’ Privately, he thought that if his father were to find himself out on the street with nowhere to go but home to Denham it might bring him to his senses.
    Out in the street himself he was at a loss where to go next. He had no appetite for dinner, and the prospect of returning to the gloom of Denham Hall was too depressing to contemplate. Then he remembered something he had intended to do while in London, before all his plans fell apart. He hailed a cab and set out for Sussex Gardens.
    When Beavis opened the door to him he said, ‘I’ve come to enquire if you have any news of Miss Malham Brown? I haven’t heard from her for months.’
    â€˜Miss Leonora is in the drawing room, sir. Shall I tell her you are here?’
    â€˜Leo, here? That’s marvellous! Don’t worry, Beavis. I’ll announce myself.’
    Tom bounded into the drawing room and stopped short at the sight of Leo reclining on a chaise longue, pale-faced and
en déshabillé
.
    She started up at his