advice. Never meddle in other people’s business. Not wise. You’ll come a cropper, mark my words.’
‘Is that a threat?’ I asked, but he was deep into slurping the new beer. I wondered if he’d been drinking all night. Then he fixed on the remains of the pie and speared another lump of meat. He belched. ‘Never go near water. Nasty stuff. Nor boats. They’ll go down, you know.’
‘Your father and brother?’
‘Both of ’em. And then I’ll have it all. That’s worth coming back for, ain’t it? I’ll stand over the coffins, wringing my hands, supporting my mother . . . God, but she can weep! And then I’ll sell the lot and be off to London again. There’s nowhere better to live than London!’ He gestured widely, still chewing. ‘Take what you can get, Patterson. Sell all her lands and property, and come to London with me. I’ll show you where the best gaming can be had.’
‘No, thank you,’ I said, barely restraining my distaste.
‘We can combine our worldly wealth and run a game ourselves. I’ve done it before with a friend.’
‘Then go back to that friend.’
‘Turned respectable on me!’ He waved his hand in the air. ‘Well, all right, I admit there may have been disagreements. But we can clean out. And there’ll be dozens of women. Good solid rumbustious women. Not like that wishy-washy spinster of yours!’
I stared at him. He grinned. And it occurred to me he was saying exactly what he knew would cause most offence. He was playing games with me.
‘I’ve business to do,’ I said, pushing back my chair.
His laugh followed me out of the coffee house.
Fifteen
Do not be led astray by those governed by fashion and frivolity.
[ A Gentleman’s Companion , March 1731]
I thought I’d conquered my anger by the time I got home but Tom, hovering just inside the door, took one look at my expression and straightened. ‘There’s a note for you, sir.’
‘Another one!’ I took it from him, turned it over. It looked like Hugh’s writing. ‘Where’s Mrs Patterson?’
Tom opened his mouth. A gleam sprang up on the bottom of the banister. ‘She’s out shopping!’ George yelled.
I fancied I could hear Tom grinding his teeth. ‘This is going to have to stop, George,’ I said levelly. ‘I told you to let Tom do his job.’
‘I was, master!’ George said. The slyness in his voice was close cousin to Ridley’s, which only made me more annoyed. ‘I let him tell you about the note. Then I told you about the mistress. You know I always look after her!’
I regarded the gleam with misgiving. That note of jealousy again. ‘George—’
The spirit’s voice became more strident. ‘I always keep an eye on what she’s doing, master!’
He probably did. Spirits usually know all about the affairs of the living. But such scrutiny can easily become intolerable. I needed to talk to Esther, to reassure myself that George was not becoming intrusive. Something would have to be done. George would always remain a boy; for the next eighty or so years – almost certainly our entire lives – we’d have to live with him. If we didn’t find a way to control him, our only escape would be to move.
It might yet come to that. ‘Nevertheless,’ I said, ‘I was asking Tom a question. You interrupted a conversation, which is rude.’
‘ He’s rude!’ George retorted. ‘He’s always swearing at me.’
Tom reddened. ‘I don’t!’ He looked briefly absurdly young. ‘I don’t, sir!’
‘Do, do, do!’ George shouted.
‘That’s enough!’
They both fell silent. The gleam on the banister shifted as if George was dying to say something more. Tom looked stonily into the distance.
‘I want you both to understand,’ I said, ‘that I’m perfectly satisfied with Tom’s performance of his duties. Thank you, Tom.’
‘Sir,’ he said, with a flush staining his cheeks.
‘But I’m not prepared to put up with arguments and dissensions in this house. They must cease at once. Do
‘Is that a threat?’ I asked, but he was deep into slurping the new beer. I wondered if he’d been drinking all night. Then he fixed on the remains of the pie and speared another lump of meat. He belched. ‘Never go near water. Nasty stuff. Nor boats. They’ll go down, you know.’
‘Your father and brother?’
‘Both of ’em. And then I’ll have it all. That’s worth coming back for, ain’t it? I’ll stand over the coffins, wringing my hands, supporting my mother . . . God, but she can weep! And then I’ll sell the lot and be off to London again. There’s nowhere better to live than London!’ He gestured widely, still chewing. ‘Take what you can get, Patterson. Sell all her lands and property, and come to London with me. I’ll show you where the best gaming can be had.’
‘No, thank you,’ I said, barely restraining my distaste.
‘We can combine our worldly wealth and run a game ourselves. I’ve done it before with a friend.’
‘Then go back to that friend.’
‘Turned respectable on me!’ He waved his hand in the air. ‘Well, all right, I admit there may have been disagreements. But we can clean out. And there’ll be dozens of women. Good solid rumbustious women. Not like that wishy-washy spinster of yours!’
I stared at him. He grinned. And it occurred to me he was saying exactly what he knew would cause most offence. He was playing games with me.
‘I’ve business to do,’ I said, pushing back my chair.
His laugh followed me out of the coffee house.
Fifteen
Do not be led astray by those governed by fashion and frivolity.
[ A Gentleman’s Companion , March 1731]
I thought I’d conquered my anger by the time I got home but Tom, hovering just inside the door, took one look at my expression and straightened. ‘There’s a note for you, sir.’
‘Another one!’ I took it from him, turned it over. It looked like Hugh’s writing. ‘Where’s Mrs Patterson?’
Tom opened his mouth. A gleam sprang up on the bottom of the banister. ‘She’s out shopping!’ George yelled.
I fancied I could hear Tom grinding his teeth. ‘This is going to have to stop, George,’ I said levelly. ‘I told you to let Tom do his job.’
‘I was, master!’ George said. The slyness in his voice was close cousin to Ridley’s, which only made me more annoyed. ‘I let him tell you about the note. Then I told you about the mistress. You know I always look after her!’
I regarded the gleam with misgiving. That note of jealousy again. ‘George—’
The spirit’s voice became more strident. ‘I always keep an eye on what she’s doing, master!’
He probably did. Spirits usually know all about the affairs of the living. But such scrutiny can easily become intolerable. I needed to talk to Esther, to reassure myself that George was not becoming intrusive. Something would have to be done. George would always remain a boy; for the next eighty or so years – almost certainly our entire lives – we’d have to live with him. If we didn’t find a way to control him, our only escape would be to move.
It might yet come to that. ‘Nevertheless,’ I said, ‘I was asking Tom a question. You interrupted a conversation, which is rude.’
‘ He’s rude!’ George retorted. ‘He’s always swearing at me.’
Tom reddened. ‘I don’t!’ He looked briefly absurdly young. ‘I don’t, sir!’
‘Do, do, do!’ George shouted.
‘That’s enough!’
They both fell silent. The gleam on the banister shifted as if George was dying to say something more. Tom looked stonily into the distance.
‘I want you both to understand,’ I said, ‘that I’m perfectly satisfied with Tom’s performance of his duties. Thank you, Tom.’
‘Sir,’ he said, with a flush staining his cheeks.
‘But I’m not prepared to put up with arguments and dissensions in this house. They must cease at once. Do
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