An Accidental Shroud Read Online Free

library book pushed into a drawer and coffee, the rich dark brew she knew he liked, was already made. He felt, as usual, exasperated with her. He'd told her he didn't mind what she did on the days when she worked here and not at his main office in town. Whether she knitted, read her library romances, filed her nails or twiddled her thumbs, as long as the work was done – and God knows, there was little enough of that to keep her fully occupied at the moment. Thelma, however, middle-aged, widowed and motherly, had old-fashioned ideas about keeping up appearances. She reached for another mug as Matthew came in with his father and carried the coffee on a tray into the adjoining office. A plate of her home-made Shrewsbury biscuits came with it. There was a single yellow rose in a crystal bud vase set incongruously on the rough table that served as a desk.
    Matthew reached for a biscuit and took a large bite. 'Mmm. Brilliant!' In fact, the biscuits were nothing special. Good and wholesome, but nothing particularly out of the way. But being charming (to everyone except his father) was a natural part of Matthew's likeable personality, one that endeared him to everyone – especially females, judging by his string of girlfriends. Even Thelma, normally immune to flattery, was smiling plummily back.
    When she had poured the coffee and left them to it, Jake remarked, 'To what do we owe this honour, Matthew? Shouldn't you be at the shop?' He tried to make his tone light but for the life of him he couldn't keep out the derogatory inflexion. Matthew, however, merely shrugged. He was wearing the dark suit and discreet tie he wore for work. He looked extremely personable but curiously out of keeping. A track suit, jeans, casual clothes of any kind was more his style, the style that complemented his outdoor tan, crisp, short dark hair and the compact, athletic figure.
    'Cousin Nigel,' he said, 'has decided to give me the day off, in lieu. The policy's to open all hours from now on, even Thursday.'
    Jake never could work out what Matthew's real feelings were towards Nigel – not, in fact, his cousin, but Jake's – nor what his attitude towards his job with him was. For one thing, he was so damned independent it was difficult to imagine him being beholden to anyone. Another thing was the job itself. Impossible, even a few months ago, to imagine Matt working in the rarefied atmosphere of Fontenoy's. From childhood, it had been difficult to keep him off any site of his father's. He was familiar with everything that was going on, with future plans, he knew everyone, had a working relationship with plant, machinery, the whole works. There had never been any question of him doing anything else but join Jake in the business when he left school.
    Jake, who was the first to admit he hadn't the faintest idea how to go about handling this new Matthew, pushed the problem to one side. And belatedly, what Matt had just said about Thursday closing suddenly registered with him.
    Thinking about it, he decided that if Nigel was prepared to discard the time-honoured custom of half-day closing midweek, his claim that he was really feeling the pinch might not be the simple ploy to get the loan repaid that Jake had thought. That didn't mean Nigel had forgotten the bloody loan, however, not he! Or was prepared to extend its repayment. Not that it was a matter of life and death to either of them, but in the circumstances, its recall would be embarrassing. Jake rubbed a hand down his chin and looked speculatively at Matthew. He decided to speak, even at risk of the rebuff he knew would come.
    'If he decides to cut down on staff – well, there's always room for you in the business, you know that.' And always would be, even if it meant getting rid of someone else.
    'If there is –' Matthew began.
    'If there is a business much longer', was what he'd been going to say, Jake knew. It would have been a perfectly justifiable remark. The building and