The Throwback

The Throwback by Tom Sharpe Page B

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Authors: Tom Sharpe
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old Mr Flawse, stepping up to the table, picked up the pen. ‘Am I in sound mind?’ he asked Dr Magrew.
    ‘Yes,’ said the doctor, ‘I attest that you are in sound mind.’
    ‘Hear that,’ said Mr Flawse to the two tenant farmers who nodded accordingly. ‘You will witness that I am in sound mind when I sign this will.’
    There was a sudden scream from Mrs Flawse. ‘Sound mind? You’re as mad as a hatter. You’ve cheated me. You said you would leave everything to me and now you’ve added a clause saying that I forfeit all right to inherit if … if … if that illegitimate creature finds his father.’
    But Mr Flawse ignored her outburst and signed the will. ‘Away with you, woman,’ he said, handing the pen to one of the farmers, ‘I kept my word and you’ll keep mine or lose every penny I’ve left you.’
    Mrs Flawse eyed the axe lying on the long table andthen sat down defeated. She had been hoodwinked. ‘There’s nothing to say that I have to stay here while you are still alive. I shall leave first thing tomorrow.’
    Mr Flawse laughed. ‘Ma’am,’ he said, ‘you have signed a contract to remain here for the rest of your life or redress me for the loss of your presence to the tune of five thousand pounds a year.’
    ‘I have done nothing of the sort,’ screamed Mrs Flawse. ‘I signed—’
    But Mr Bullstrode handed her the will. ‘You will find the clause on page one,’ he said.
    Mrs Flawse gaped at him incredulously and then followed his finger down the page. ‘But you didn’t read that out,’ she said as the words swam before her eyes. ‘You didn’t read out “In the event of my wife Cynthia Flawse leaving …” Oh my God!’ And she sank back into her chair. The clause was there in black on white.
    ‘And now that the thing is signed, sealed and delivered,’ said Mr Flawse as Bullstrode folded the extraordinary document and slipped it into his briefcase, ‘let us drink a health to Death.’
    ‘To Death?’ said Jessica, still bemused by the bizarre romance of the scene.
    Mr Flawse patted her radiant cheek fondly. ‘To Death, my dear, the only thing we have in common,’ he said, ‘and the great leveller! Mr Dodd, the decanter of Northumbrian whisky.’
    Mr Dodd disappeared through the door.
    ‘I didn’t know they made whisky in Northumberland,’said Jessica, warming to the old man, ‘I thought it was Scotch.’
    ‘There are many things you don’t know and Northumbrian whisky’s among them. It used to be distilled in these parts by the gallon but Dodd’s the only man with a still left. You see these walls? Ten feet thick. There used to be a saying hereabouts, “Six for the Scots and four for the Excise men.” And it would be a canny man who would find the entrance but Dodd knows.’
    In proof of this remark Mr Dodd reappeared with a decanter of whisky and a tray of glasses. When the glasses were all filled Mr Flawse rose and the others followed. Only Mrs Flawse remained seated.
    ‘I refuse to drink to Death,’ she muttered stubbornly. ‘It’s a wicked toast.’
    ‘Aye, ma’am, and it’s a wicked world,’ said Mr Flawse, ‘but you’ll drink all the same. It’s your only hope.’
    Mrs Flawse got unsteadily to her feet and regarded him with loathing.
    ‘To the Great Certainty,’ said Mr Flawse, and his voice rang among the battle-flags and armour.
    Later, after a lunch served in the dining-room, Lockhart and Jessica walked across Flawse Fell. The afternoon sunlight shone down on the coarse grass and a few sheep stirred as they climbed Flawse Rigg.
    ‘Oh, Lockhart, I wouldn’t have missed today for all the world,’ said Jessica when they reached the top. ‘Your grandfather is the darlingest old man.’
    It was not a superlative Lockhart would have appliedto his grandfather, and Mrs Flawse, white-faced in her room, would have used its opposite. But neither voiced their opinion. Lockhart because Jessica was his beloved angel and her opinion was not to be

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