Terry Minahan - The Adventures of Thadeus Burke Vol 1

James’s Royal Enfield roared up at exactly 1.30. Introductions were made. James had great difficulty referring to Hilton simply as ‘Hilton’ and perhaps more difficulty with the reciprocal ‘Mr James’. He made a huge mistake addressing Freddie as ‘Ma’am’, a title she felt should be reserved for the old queen alone. He settled for Miss Freddie. He was clearly impressed with Thadeus’ sister; indeed she was a stunning young lady, with strawberry blonde hair, cut short in the modern ‘bob’ cut, possibly a little taller than James.

Thadeus showed James round the house; Hilton did not think that Miss Freddie should be left unattended. James had only seen a kitchen like this one in a hotel where he had worked during school holidays. Apart from the Bentley in the garage, his greatest admiration was reserved for the bathroom, which had a stand-up shower. He explained to Freddie later that at home their bath was a large galvanized contraption that hung on a nail outside the back door and was dragged into the scullery on bath nights.

‘God, how primitive James,’ exclaimed Freddie. ‘I do hope you’re planning better facilities for the new Mrs Pooley?’

‘I had not anticipated a shower, but I think now that it will be essential. Actually I don’t use the tin bath nowadays; we go to the public baths at Goose Green. The facilities there are excellent.’

James commented on the extravagant amount of plaster on Freddie’s left leg. Freddie explained the rudiments of fracture repair requiring that the broken bone be held still in order that it may grow back to normal and, as in the nature of things, bones were connected to each other, it was necessary to keep practically all the leg still. She also added that the hospital where she had been taken following the accident was the same hospital at which she was completing her final year as a medical student and that her colleagues did get somewhat over-exuberant. Thadeus and James inspected the graffiti that adorned the plaster.

‘Some of this is disgusting!’ exclaimed James.

‘The Latin is even worse,’ offered Freddie

‘It was the Latin that I was reading,’ explained James.

‘Oh God!’ exclaimed Freddie. ‘I’ve got to spend the next three or four weeks with uneducated males.’

Lunch passed uneventfully with Freddie and James exchanging brief life histories. Thadeus was quiet, his sister being twenty-three months older than him, his mind drifted back to his teenage years when Freddie’s friends used to use him for their early sexual experiments. Happy days.

After lunch was cleared away, Thadeus and James engaged in some serious paperwork. Notes were made. Telephone pads for messages, a date stamp for incoming mail. The policy register required lengthy discussion, new column headings being added every minute; it would be the hub of office information. Rough ideas for a renewal system were drafted and a double entry bookkeeping system agreed. They were making a half-hearted attempt at organizing a claims department, when Hilton suggested cocktails. James was of the opinion that motorcycling and drinking were incongruous activities and, as it was time for him to set off to an appointment with Eddie, he said his farewells and rode off in the opposite direction to the sunset.

Freddie had bought her flute with her and during the evening Thadeus accompanied her on the piano, suffering much good-natured abuse.

‘Thadeus, you play very well, but “accompanying” is quite beyond you. Your rallentando waits for no man, and irrespective of where I am in the music, your hands hover like a couple of sea eagles for hours before crashing down on a final cadence.’

It was a pleasant evening and Thadeus retired for the night well contented.

Monday morning, 9.00 am. Thadeus, James and Ethel were sorting out their desks. Ethel was instructed to arrange for the telephone to be switched to the new company and carefully check the telephone number before the letter heading and other documents were printed. James gave Ethel the drafted letter heading and the slip for use at Lloyd’s to be typed up. Their first post that morning confirmed their Lloyd’s broker number – 502. Ethel advised that their telephone number would be Gracechurch 4949.

Thadeus’ office had a large cupboard, which was half full of back-copies of The Times . James informed him that it had been Mr Whelan’s habit to keep at least the last six months’ copies for reference.

‘What for?’ enquired Thadeus.

‘He was a Justice of the Peace, so I assume that he referred to the law reports. He was also quite active on the Stock Exchange, buying and selling stocks and shares. He dabbled in the commodity market as well, metals and coal.’

‘A man of many parts,’ commented Thadeus.

‘Oh yes, he had several little money making enterprises, apart from the Lloyd’s broking. One of his little earners was witnessing documents. Hargreaves & Simpkin used to send people round for him to witness their signatures on leases, or official company documents, because he was a JP, I think. He witnessed wills as well, charged one guinea every time. There were three or four witness sessions every week.’

‘Maybe that is why he was shot,’ ventured Thadeus adding, ‘where is Friday’s copy of The Times ? It is not in the cupboard and it was not on Mr Whelan’s desk on Saturday morning. Would you mind going up to Fleet Street and getting a copy in your lunch hour, James?’

James nodded. ‘Certainly, sir.’

During the afternoon James was busy at the stationers buying ledgers, a couple of very smart leather-bound ones for private accounts, and several red leatherette ones that opened out with a key so that new pages could be inserted. One of these latter types, a short but very wide one, was to be used as the company’s policy register. It was so big that it needed its own desk. Ethel was supplied with a card index system for names, addresses and telephone numbers. After consulting with Thadeus, James began heading up the policy register’s several columns, in his best copperplate writing. Thadeus proposed that when they were alone together they would be ‘Thadeus’ and ‘James’; in the company of any third party, they would be ‘Mr Burke’ and ‘Mr Pooley’.

James felt that in private he would be happier calling Thadeus ‘sir’.

‘If you must!’ agreed Thadeus. ‘Yes, sir!’ responded James.

The telephone was working and Thadeus spent most of the afternoon ringing potential clients and advising them of the new arrangements, telling them that a letter setting out the details of the new firm would be posted to them when they had paper back from the printers. Many of these contacts had already been warned over the previous couple of months of Thadeus’ plans, and were pleased to have his new telephone number ready when needed. Nobody actually wanted to insure anything that day, which was just as well as Thadeus did not want to go out into the Lloyd’s market until he was equipped with his own ‘slips’. Blank sheets of paper or phone calls would have worked, but Thadeus wanted everything right.

At 4.00 pm Ethel produced three cups of tea. Thadeus took a break and had a look at last Friday’s Times. The obituaries page revealed that a Colonel Bennet had died in a shotgun accident. Although a distinguished and much decorated soldier Colonel Bennet had been a disaster with shotguns. Some years ago he had shot himself in the leg, and within the last twelve months had managed to shoot a fellow gun in the elbow and a beater in the shoulder. It seemed only a matter of time before he blew his own head off; this final mismatch of man and weapon had occurred last Wednesday. His only remaining relative was a Major Bennet, also with an address in Berkshire.