Empty Vessels by Marina Pascoe Read Free Book Online

that old spark of determination in her eyes. Outwardly, she was quiet, respectable and demure.
    Today Caroline was wearing her gold pin as usual. Irene had told Boase that her father had given it to her mother when they were young sweethearts; it was in the shape of a small crown with a diamond in the centre to remind her that she was George Bartlettʼs princess, a name he always called her by – never Ê»Caroline’, unless her was speaking about her to someone else.
    Ê»Archie, oh how lovely to see you again, do come in, how are you?ʼ Boase handed her the flowers and she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed.
    Ê»George, Irene, heʼs here.ʼ Caroline led the way into a very neat parlour, still Victorian in style but comfortable. There were houseplants everywhere. Caroline had very green fingers but, often finding the garden difficult, she had turned her attentions to greenery and flowers in her home. Bartlett stood up from his favourite armchair.
    Ê»Hello, my boy, come in, sit down.ʼ The older man looked more relaxed now in the comfort of his own home as he drew on his pipe and supped a pint of London Ale. Beside the chair lay Topper, asleep. He had stood up when Boaseʼs knock at the door came but Bartlett said reassuringly, Ê»All right, boy, itʼs only Boase,ʼ and Topper took up his place again. Now he managed to open one eye and raise an eyebrow, but there was no threat to his master and he remained still. Topper was Bartlettʼs constant companion, never judging him like almost every human did.
    Bartlett spoke, still with his pipe between his teeth;
    Ê»Princess, whereʼs Irene, whatʼs that girl doing? Sheʼs been upstairs for ages.ʼ
    Caroline, standing behind Boase, glared at her husband. Her daughter would not want anyone to think she had gone to any trouble – women were like that. Just as Boase sat down, the door opened and there stood Irene. She wore a simple dark grey dress in a woollen fabric with a silver grey collar and silver grey shoes. Around her neck was a simple pearl choker. Boase immediately got up from his seat. He thought she looked beautiful. Irene came into the centre of the room.
    Ê»Hello, Archie, how are you?ʼ
    Ê»Iʼm very well thanks, Irene; here, have my seat.ʼ
    The girl sat down on the arm of the chair and patted the cushion beside her.
    Ê»You sit here, then we can talk.ʼ Boase nervously took his place in the armchair next to her. He could smell her perfume – it was just like lilacs. He quite liked it. Even if he hadnʼt liked it, it didnʼt matter because he was close to Irene. Caroline walked to the door. Ê»George, could you help me with the plates?ʼ Bartlett sank into his chair.
    Ê»Iʼll be there in a minute, Princess.ʼ
    Ê»George, I need help, now.ʼ Caroline could see the couple wanted to be alone and she didnʼt want anyone to spoil it for them. She liked Archie Boase. Irene could do a lot worse. Bartlett rose from his seat and, closely followed by Topper, went into the kitchen.
    The four were presently seated in the dining room which looked out over the back garden. It was dark now but the moonlight shone down and was reflected in the small pond in the centre of the lawn. The four ate a meal of beef stew with potatoes and dumplings, followed by a treacle pudding with custard, while Topper lay under the table at Bartlettʼs feet hoping his master would let something slip from his plate.
    Ê»I hear you and Dad are off to London tomorrow, Archie.ʼ Irene had always been interested in her fatherʼs work from when she was a small child and now, having a good knowledge of the town and its people, she had even more reason to follow his activities.
    Ê»Yes, thatʼs right.ʼ Boase hastened to finish his mouthful of food; he felt self-conscious when he was eating with other people. Ê»Yes, weʼre going up in the morning. Long day ahead.ʼ
    Irene continued,