Trader Jack -The Story of Jack Miner (The Story of Jack Miner Series) by Neil Behrmann Page B
Authors: Neil Behrmann
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afterwards with a drawing pad. She moved her chair to a spot where she could have full sight of my profile and started sketching.
'Don't take any notice of me,' she said.
'They're South Africans, aren't they,' I said, getting up to fetch a ball that Tom had thrown in our direction.
'Please sit down Jack. Don't move,' insisted Leila. 'The family immigrated here a year ago. They now live in Salisbury. Know many South Africans?'
'Only one. He was a friend of my Dad. I met him years ago. He was a prospector. Searched for gold, diamonds . . . that sort of stuff.'
'I know a few geologists. What's his name?' asked Stan.
'Fred Carrender.'
'Heard of him. The South African mining community is small. Everyone knows each other,' said Stan.
Leila stopped drawing and looked up: 'Maybe he's a friend of Ivor. Tess, Tom come here, please.'
They grabbed their towels and ran to us.
'Did your Grandpa have a friend called Fred Carrender?'
'Yes, he used to come to our house sometimes,' said Tom.
'Brought lots of chocolate,' grinned Tess.
'You know Fred Carrender?' I asked amazed.
'Their grandfather's also a geologist,' said Stan.
'Grandpa's going to be here in a few days. We're going to Scotland,' said Tom excitedly.
'We have some cousins there. We're going to ride horses and walk in the Highlands,' said Tess.
'Then the Edinburgh festival and back to school,' said Leila.
Their faces dropped.
'Life always turns up with something interesting, Jack. Time for a celebration,' said Leila cheerfully. 'Perhaps you can meet Ivor and find out more about your Dad's friend.'
She went inside and a little later came out with some biscuits, beers and cold drinks. 'Want a beer, Jack?'
'Thanks,' I said, and quickly downed a bottle of Castle, a South African lager.
The children went off to change and Leila sat down again to etch me.
'I'll show you my drawing of Ivor later,' she said. 'He's a good friend. Helped us when we were down.'
I didn't want to tell the Slimcops everything, but it just came out. It felt safe there. They were so open and friendly. I told them about Dad's letter, how he had saved Fred Carrender from drowning and that Fred had given Dad the OilFinder and MineDeep shares. How I sneaked out of Bridlington and kept the shares away from Mark Baton, the liquidator. I didn't tell them about Sandy. As far as I was concerned, she was history.
'Do you know how much your Dad owed his creditors?' asked Stan.
'Not sure. I think that Baton said it was around £25,000,' I said.
'I think Jim Wardle's right. Your Dad gave you his shares before he died,' said Stan thoughtfully. 'It doesn't belong to the insolvent estate, but that Baton sounds nasty. He could make your life uncomfortable.'
'Remember when we went under. The liquidators grabbed most for themselves,' said Leila bitterly. 'Get some legal advice, Jack.'
'I've got a better idea,' said Stan. 'Let's get shot of him. I'll settle your Dad's debts through my lawyer.'
His generosity was astounding. I didn't know what to say.
'You don't have to do that,' I stammered.
'The creditors will be happy. All they want is their money. My lawyer will act on behalf of an anonymous benefactor,' said Stan.
'What about Baton? He'll want to get his hands on it.'
'No way. My lawyer will obtain the list of creditors and pay them directly.'
'Mrs Derby. We owed her a lot of rent. She's a good woman,' I blurted out.
'Mrs Derby will be first on the list,' laughed Stan.
He was pacing up and down, walking up towards the swimming pool and back again. He seemed to be remembering something that had happened to him; possibly when he lost all his money.
'What if Baton wants more?' I asked.
'Baton will get a fee for his services,' said Slimcop.
'The lowest possible fee,' said Leila, clenching her teeth. 'We were insolvent once, Jack. We know what it's like. Liquidators scavenging, grabbing most for themselves.'
'Did Jim tell you that I'm giving you some money, Jack?'
'Yes . . . No need . . .
'Don't take any notice of me,' she said.
'They're South Africans, aren't they,' I said, getting up to fetch a ball that Tom had thrown in our direction.
'Please sit down Jack. Don't move,' insisted Leila. 'The family immigrated here a year ago. They now live in Salisbury. Know many South Africans?'
'Only one. He was a friend of my Dad. I met him years ago. He was a prospector. Searched for gold, diamonds . . . that sort of stuff.'
'I know a few geologists. What's his name?' asked Stan.
'Fred Carrender.'
'Heard of him. The South African mining community is small. Everyone knows each other,' said Stan.
Leila stopped drawing and looked up: 'Maybe he's a friend of Ivor. Tess, Tom come here, please.'
They grabbed their towels and ran to us.
'Did your Grandpa have a friend called Fred Carrender?'
'Yes, he used to come to our house sometimes,' said Tom.
'Brought lots of chocolate,' grinned Tess.
'You know Fred Carrender?' I asked amazed.
'Their grandfather's also a geologist,' said Stan.
'Grandpa's going to be here in a few days. We're going to Scotland,' said Tom excitedly.
'We have some cousins there. We're going to ride horses and walk in the Highlands,' said Tess.
'Then the Edinburgh festival and back to school,' said Leila.
Their faces dropped.
'Life always turns up with something interesting, Jack. Time for a celebration,' said Leila cheerfully. 'Perhaps you can meet Ivor and find out more about your Dad's friend.'
She went inside and a little later came out with some biscuits, beers and cold drinks. 'Want a beer, Jack?'
'Thanks,' I said, and quickly downed a bottle of Castle, a South African lager.
The children went off to change and Leila sat down again to etch me.
'I'll show you my drawing of Ivor later,' she said. 'He's a good friend. Helped us when we were down.'
I didn't want to tell the Slimcops everything, but it just came out. It felt safe there. They were so open and friendly. I told them about Dad's letter, how he had saved Fred Carrender from drowning and that Fred had given Dad the OilFinder and MineDeep shares. How I sneaked out of Bridlington and kept the shares away from Mark Baton, the liquidator. I didn't tell them about Sandy. As far as I was concerned, she was history.
'Do you know how much your Dad owed his creditors?' asked Stan.
'Not sure. I think that Baton said it was around £25,000,' I said.
'I think Jim Wardle's right. Your Dad gave you his shares before he died,' said Stan thoughtfully. 'It doesn't belong to the insolvent estate, but that Baton sounds nasty. He could make your life uncomfortable.'
'Remember when we went under. The liquidators grabbed most for themselves,' said Leila bitterly. 'Get some legal advice, Jack.'
'I've got a better idea,' said Stan. 'Let's get shot of him. I'll settle your Dad's debts through my lawyer.'
His generosity was astounding. I didn't know what to say.
'You don't have to do that,' I stammered.
'The creditors will be happy. All they want is their money. My lawyer will act on behalf of an anonymous benefactor,' said Stan.
'What about Baton? He'll want to get his hands on it.'
'No way. My lawyer will obtain the list of creditors and pay them directly.'
'Mrs Derby. We owed her a lot of rent. She's a good woman,' I blurted out.
'Mrs Derby will be first on the list,' laughed Stan.
He was pacing up and down, walking up towards the swimming pool and back again. He seemed to be remembering something that had happened to him; possibly when he lost all his money.
'What if Baton wants more?' I asked.
'Baton will get a fee for his services,' said Slimcop.
'The lowest possible fee,' said Leila, clenching her teeth. 'We were insolvent once, Jack. We know what it's like. Liquidators scavenging, grabbing most for themselves.'
'Did Jim tell you that I'm giving you some money, Jack?'
'Yes . . . No need . . .
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