Kitty Neale

Kitty Neale 3 Book Bundle


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didn’t seem to notice the girl’s dreadful etiquette.

      Amy’s parents were just as bad, when at Thomas’s insistence Celia had invited them to dinner. Stanley Miller had slurped his soup, and then to her horror he had lifted the bowl to drink the last dregs. Celia had been disgusted and wanted as little to do with them as possible, but there had been a return invitation. It was, of course, a disaster, and with so little in common Celia hoped her feelings were reciprocated. Now, as the months passed, she was running out of ideas to undermine Amy.

      Celia saw a taxi pulling up outside and gasped as a familiar figure climbed out. With a cry of delight she hurried to open the door, uncaring of the rain as she ran to his side. ‘Jeremy! Oh, Jeremy! You’ve come home!’

      ‘Hello Mum,’ he said, grinning then pulling out two suitcases before paying the driver.

      Celia ushered him inside and then threw her arms around her son. ‘I can hardly believe you’re here,’ Celia enthused. ‘Leave your cases there for now, darling, and come into the living room.’

      Jeremy smiled when he walked into the room, his eyes coming to rest on the tree. ‘It’s just as I remember it, though there wasn’t a Christmas tree in view when I left.’

      ‘Considering it was in July, that’s hardly surprising. Please, darling, tell me that you’re home for good.’

      ‘Mum, I’ve only just arrived and I don’t know what my plans are yet.’

      ‘At least say you’ll be here for Christmas?’

      ‘Of course I will.’

      ‘That’s something,’ Celia said, hoping that Jeremy would decide to stay for a lot longer than that. ‘Sit down, darling. Are you hungry?’

      ‘I wouldn’t say no to a sandwich,’ Jeremy replied.

      Celia was almost crying with happiness and dashed a tear from her eye as she looked up at her son. Jeremy had left little more than a boy, but had returned a man and a very handsome one too. She made him a sandwich and then listened as Jeremy told her about his travels; the places he’d been, the jobs he had done, all of which had been transient. It sounded as though her son had been living the life of a nomad, and she felt it was time he settled down in one place. If she had anything to do with it, Celia decided, that place would be here, by her side.

      ‘I was still in Greece and got your letter,’ Jeremy continued. ‘I had found work harvesting olives, but you sounded a bit desperate so I decided to come home.’

      ‘I’m so glad you did,’ Celia told him.

      ‘Have you heard from Dad since you wrote to me?’

      ‘No, not a word, and I have no idea where he is.’

      ‘It was a bit of a surprise to hear that he handed his business over to Tom. How is he coping with it?’ Jeremy asked.

      ‘I prefer Thomas, but I suppose calling him Tom is all right. Anyway, he’s done well; increased trade and pays me a salary for keeping the accounts. However Thomas has made it clear that I’m to have no say in the running of the business, and of course I don’t get a share of the profits.’

      ‘What sort of money are we talking about?’ Jeremy asked.

      Celia rose to her feet and finding the account books, she showed them to her son. ‘When your father ran the firm it was just a one-man band. He made enough money to see that we were well provided for, and employed Thomas, but refused to expand. In the short time since Thomas took over he’s already gained new contracts, employed more glaziers and purchased new vans. Despite that expenditure, as you can see,’ Celia said, pointing to the latest figures, ‘Thomas has hugely increased profits.’

      Jeremy whistled through his teeth and then said, ‘He’s done well, but by rights, surely the firm should be yours.’

      ‘You’d have thought so, but as your father made sure that everything was done legally there’s nothing I can do about it,’ Celia said sadly.

      ‘Well morally I think it’s wrong and when I see Tom I’ll tell him that the least he can do is to offer you a half share in the firm.’

      ‘As the elder son, you should have a share in it too, but Thomas will never agree. He’s changed and hardly listens to a word I say; especially when it comes to that common slut he’s going to marry. I told you about her in my letter and I’m frightened that once they’re married, Amy will persuade Thomas that he doesn’t have to employ me, and … and if that happens, I … I’ll end up destitute,’ Celia sobbed, putting on the tears.

      Jeremy moved to her side and placed an arm around her shoulder. ‘Mum, stop worrying. You’ve got me now and I’ll deal with Thomas.’

      Celia sniffed, but inwardly she was smiling. She had someone on her side now, and at last the future looked brighter.

      Though around seven years had passed since he’d last seen his brother, when Tommy walked into the living room, he recognised him instantly. ‘Jeremy,’ he gasped, ‘I can’t believe it.’

      ‘It’s good to see you, Tom. What were you, about thirteen or fourteen when I left home?’ Jeremy asked as he stood up.

      ‘Yes, about that.’

      ‘You’ve grown up, but you’re still a skinny runt,’ Jeremy said, his grin taking any malice out of the words.

      As they hugged awkwardly, Tommy noted that his brother was still taller than him, his body muscular, and with his dark hair and vivid green eyes, he was strikingly handsome. Jeremy had been his idol, the older brother he’d looked up to, and it had been gut-wrenching when he left home. Now he was back, and Tommy hoped it was permanent as he asked, ‘Is this just a visit, or will you be staying?’

      ‘I’m not sure yet, it depends.’

      ‘On what?’

      ‘This and that, what prospects there might be for me here, that sort of thing,’ Jeremy replied.

      ‘Thomas, it’s wonderful to have Jeremy home again and I hope we can find a way to persuade him to stay.’

      ‘I hope so too, Mum.’

      ‘Jeremy and I have been chatting for so long that I’ve got behind with preparing dinner. I’ll get on with it now and leave you two to catch up.’

      As their mother left the room, Tommy coughed and sat down. He felt rough and had spent the day shivering or sweating in equal measures. Mild, familiar symptoms had started a couple of days ago, signalling the onset of bronchitis, but as he was too busy to take time off he’d have to work through it. Jeremy took a seat too, and Tommy managed to rally, saying, ‘From your letters, I know some of the places you’ve seen, but I’d be interested to know more.’

      ‘Well now, as I told Mum, I made my way home from Greece, but I went to so many countries that it would take a long time to describe them all,’ Jeremy said, going on to talk about one or two.

      As Tommy listened, he felt that in comparison to his brother he’d hardly seen or done anything. Yet even so, he’d never had a yearning to travel, preferring all things familiar. The thought of having to find any menial sort of work in a foreign country to earn a crust, as Jeremy had, didn’t appeal.

      ‘That’s enough about me,’ Jeremy said. ‘What about you? Mum tells me that you’re getting married.’

      ‘Yes, that’s right.’

      ‘I’m twenty-five and don’t fancy settling down yet. Don’t you think you’re a bit young for the marriage game?’

      ‘No, I don’t. Amy is the girl for me.’

      ‘She must be pretty special.’

      ‘She is,’ Thomas enthused.

      ‘In that case, when am I going to meet her?’

      ‘This evening if you