The Forgotten Story by Winston Graham Read Free Book Online

fingers. Don’t drown it. Hah!’
    While Joe drank it Anthony reflected that in a queer way he had become quite fond of his uncle since they set out. The old man’s bark was worse than his bite. And the boy warmed towards him because of his hostility for Patricia’s husband.
    Joe Veal stared at the empty glass, said ‘Hah!’ again, then rose to go downstairs.
    At a discreet distance Anthony followed.

Chapter Five
    Thomas Wilberforce Harris sat tilting a chair and reading Punch in the empty café. He was a young man of medium height, smartly dressed in black. On the table beside him was a silk hat and a gold-mounted stick. He was dark, with a strong nose, a strong neck and full brown eyes which gave the impression of seeing more than surface tilings. He was not good looking but his face had personality. He looked as if he might be both self-confident and self-doubting.
    When he saw who it was who had entered he put Punch carefully beside his hat, untilted his chair and got up.
    Joe strode across to him like an angry dog.
    â€˜What do you want?’ he demanded.
    Harris glanced behind Joe Veal to see if anyone else had followed him in.
    â€˜Can you let me have a meal?’ he said quietly.
    â€˜Restaurant’s closed,’ snapped Joe. ‘ It’s Sunday and against the law.’
    â€˜There’s no law against providing food for one’s son-in-law.’
    This remark was evidently looked upon by Joe as the height of provocation. ‘You’re no son-in-law of mine!’
    â€˜Well, the law, for which you have so much respect, says so.’
    â€˜I’m not interested in that. By a trumpery trick you persuaded Pat to go through a marriage ceremony …’
    The young man’s eyes, which had been cool and reserved, flickered with a spark of anger.
    â€˜There was no trickery unless Pat practised it in pretending that she loved me. The marriage was entered into of her own free will.’
    Joe eyed him up and down with contempt. ‘No doubt you know the law. I’ll give you credit for that. Well, she’s changed her mind. She was too young to know it then, easily influenced. But she knows it now and there’s no use your coming here with your patronising airs.’
    â€˜I want to see her first,’ said Harris.
    â€˜Well, you can’t because she’s out. Nor will she be back until dark. And you can’t sit there. We’re going to clean the place.’
    â€˜Well, I’m not particular. I can wait in the kitchen.’
    Joe was about to deny him the right to do this when the sound of voices could be heard coming through the shop. Anthony ducked behind a curtain as Patricia appeared, peeling off her lavender gloves and laughing up at the big young sailor closely following her. There was silence in the restaurant as the voices passed the door and went into the kitchen.
    â€˜See here,’ said Joe. ‘Are you looking for trouble?’
    Harris said: ‘No. Only for my wife.’
    â€˜Because,’ said Joe, ‘there’ll be trouble if you don’t get out.’
    In the distance Mrs Veal’s monotonous voice could be heard talking to the young couple.
    â€˜Confound the woman!’ said Joe.
    Harris was looking at the little man with intent eyes. He seemed to be trying to sound the depth of his hostility.
    â€˜You gave me some very good turbot one time when I was here,’ he said. ‘With lobster sauce. There’s a body about turbot that I like.’
    â€˜You’ll get no food out of me today,’ Joe said weakly.
    There was a footstep outside and Patricia passed the curtain where Anthony was hiding. Following her at a distance came Ned Pawlyn. Patricia’s face had completely changed from what it had been three minutes ago. Anthony watched the colour come and go in her cheeks.
    Ned Pawlyn was a powerfully made young man with broad shoulders and long legs and a quiet walk, as if he was