The Elderbrook Brothers by Gerald Bullet Read Free Book Online Page A

by the arrival of two people who at first glance seemed strangers to him. It gave him a moment’s discomfort that one of them was a young lady. In Matthew’s world, or on the fringe of it, were girls, women, and young ladies; the first two categories were unalarming, but in the presence of young ladies he was apt, nowadays, to feel a little confused. This one, as he now realized, he had seen before but never spoken to. She looked strange, remote, unapproachable. There was beauty in her eyes and a beautiful pride in the shape of her nose. Her escort, splendid in white flannels, approachedthe party with outstretched hand, eager to show that if there were any social disparity between himself and the rest he was unaware of it. He was manager of the Lutterthorpe sub-branch of the Mercester Bank, and in spite of his comparatively youthful bearing he was in fact the father of Eva Linnet.
    â€˜Well, well, and here’s Miss Eva!’ cried Joe, alert in gallantry. ‘It’s not often we’re so much honoured.’ He shook hands with her father, saying: ‘Better late than never, Mr Linnet. But we’ll say naught of that since you’ve brought your daughter with you.’
    â€˜That makes eight,’ said Mr Fletching. ‘How about picking sides?’
    â€˜Who’ll you have, Joe?’ said Charlie Meadows. ‘Toss for first pick?’
    â€˜Ah,’ said Joe,’ ‘but who’s skippering the other side?’ It was taken for granted by everyone, including Joe himself, that Joe would command one team. ‘What about yourself, Charlie?’ said he.
    â€˜Not me, boy,’ said Charlie. ‘I’m on your side, like it or not. Mr Linnet’s the one.’
    â€˜Of course! Of course!’ said Fletching, in a slightly shocked tone. ‘Who else indeed?’
    â€˜Right you are,’ said Joe. ‘It’s you and me, Mr Linnet. Brought plenty of banknotes along with you? You’ll need ‘em to pay for the beer.’
    Joe took a tolerant rather than sympathetic view of those flannels and that sporting blazer. Men alive in his grandfather’s time had played cricket—let alone bowls—in top hats; and he himself would have stayed away altogether rather than wear white trousers instead of the brown corduroy riding breeches he more or less lived in. Still, there was no harm in this Linnet, and the girl was a neat little thing.
    â€˜Come along then. Heads or tails?’ cried Joe.
    The business of the evening began.
§ 9
    MATTHEW, content to be a spectator, had planted himself some distance away from Eva Linnet, lonely in her deck-chair. ‘Can’t have that,’ said Joe, with a mixture of roguery and indignation. ‘Come and talk to the young lady, Matt. What are you made of, boy?’ Poor Matthew, obediently and sheepishly changing his place, was secretly, oh so secretly, already half-aware of being made of very similar stuff to his father. For this reason, however dimly surmised through a mist of adolescent disturbances, he was put out at having attention called to him; was inclined to be angry with his father; was envious of that middle-aged nonchalance. Yet Eva Linnet was only a girl after all: a girl same as other girls. A bit smarter perhaps, with a bit of something about her, an air of well-bred composure that made one feel like a clodhopper. But a girl same as others, all said and done. And nothing to be afraid of.
    â€˜Does your father play a lot, Miss Linnet?’
    â€˜Oh no,’ said Miss Linnet. ‘Tennis is his game.’
    â€˜What about you? Do you play?’
    â€˜What? Tennis?’
    â€˜No. Bowls.’
    â€˜Oh no,’ said Miss Linnet again, with an air of delicate deprecation.
    â€˜I don’t see why not,’ said Matthew, conscious of blunder and stubborn not to admit it. ‘Lots of girls do.’
    â€˜Do they?’ She opened her blue eyes very wide.
    â€˜Well, I