On his last visit to Trescadinnick, Louisa had been out and Nicholas had been let in by Edith, who told him that Thomas was resting on his bed.
‘I’ll find my own way up,’ he said cheerfully, and leaving her watching him wistfully, he set off up the stairs. As he reached the bedroom door which stood ajar, he heard voices and paused on the landing to listen. Thomas was giving Paxton precise orders about the delivery of a letter.
‘Take it to Whitmore and Staunton, the lawyers in Castle Street,’ Thomas said. ‘Give this letter to young Mr Staunton and tell him that I shall expect him to call on me here next Thursday at two in the afternoon. Tell him I shall also expect the documents to be drawn up as I’ve instructed, and ready for signature.’
Nicholas stepped back hurriedly to the top of the stairs as Paxton emerged, tucking the letter into his pocket. ‘Oh, Paxton,’ Nicholas greeted him with a pleasant smile, ‘I didn’t realize you were in there with Mr Penvarrow. I’ll come back another time.’
‘That’s all right, Doctor,’ Paxton replied in his easy voice. ‘He only wanted me for a moment, just to do an errand for him. He’s ready for you now... did he know you was coming?’
‘No, I just looked in to see how he was getting on.’
‘Well, you go on in, sir. He’s wide awake, so you needn’t fear to waken him.’
Nicholas had moved along the landing and, knocking on the door, walked into the room. ‘Good afternoon, sir,’ he said. ‘Just come in to take a quick look at you. I shan’t keep you long.’
*
The following Thursday, he rang the bell at ten minutes to two and was admitted by Edith.
‘I’m sorry, Doctor,’ she said when she saw who was there, ‘but I think madam’s gone to the village.’
‘Don’t worry, Edith,’ said Nicholas, treating her to his most disarming smile. ‘It’s Mr Penvarrow I want to see. I’ll go on up, shall I? No need to show me the way.’
He’s such a lovely gentleman, Edith thought with a sigh, as he left her standing in the hall.
Nicholas walked swiftly upstairs. He knocked on Thomas’s door and went straight in. Thomas was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows.
‘Good afternoon, sir.’ Nicholas spoke breezily as he entered the room. ‘And how are we today?’
Thomas glowered at him. ‘I’m perfectly well,’ he growled. ‘I couldn’t possibly say how you are.’
‘That’s good to hear,’ replied Nicholas, ignoring Thomas’s ill-temper.
‘Why are you here?’ demanded the old man. ‘I didn’t send for you.’
‘No, but as I was passing on my rounds I thought I’d just come and take a look at you.’
‘It isn’t necessary,’ grumbled Thomas. ‘If I need you, I’ll send for you.’
Ignoring this, Nicholas said, ‘Shall I have a listen to your chest now I’m here? Just to check that your lungs are back to good working order?’
‘If you must,’ Thomas grumbled. ‘But you’d better be quick about it. I’m expecting a visitor.’
Nicholas opened his bag and pulled out the antiquated ear-trumpet stethoscope he had found in the late Dr Marshall’s surgery. ‘Not the latest equipment, I’m afraid,’ he said as he placed the end of it on Thomas’s chest. ‘But it works pretty well.’
For a minute or two Thomas submitted to Nicholas’s ministrations, then he pushed him away. ‘That’s enough for today,’ he said. ‘Anything you haven’t heard through that contraption can wait until another day.’
As he spoke there was a peal on the front doorbell. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘get me back into my shirt.’ Nicholas did as he was asked and was still putting his stethoscope away when Edith tapped on the door. At a bellow of ‘Come!’ she crept into the room, staying beside the door as if to beat a hasty retreat, and said, ‘Please, sir, Mr Staunton is here to see you.’
‘Show him into the library,’ ordered Thomas, ‘and tell him I shall be down directly.’ Edith bobbed a ‘Yes, sir,’ and was just escaping the room when he shouted again. ‘And tell Paxton I want him.’
Edith finally made her escape and Thomas swung himself out from under the covers, revealing, to Nicholas’s surprise, that he was still dressed.
‘You there, help me with my coat.’ Thomas held out his arms and Nicholas helped him to shrug on the coat. ‘Now, young man, give me your arm downstairs.’
Together they traversed the landing and went cautiously downstairs. As they reached the bottom, Paxton appeared from the nether regions of the house.
‘Paxton, take Dr Bryan into the drawing room and wait there with him. I may need you both.’
Relying on Thomas’s dictatorial manner, Nicholas made a faint protest that he had his rounds to finish, but his protests were brushed aside.
‘Since you’re already here, you can spare me another fifteen minutes,’ Thomas said. And leaving Paxton to show Nicholas to the drawing room, he went into the library and closed the door.
At last the door opened and Edith came in. ‘Please, sir,’ she said to Nicholas with a bob, ‘Master says will you join him in the library.’
Nicholas rose at once, saying to Paxton, ‘I do hope Mr Penvarrow won’t detain us for long. I really should be on my rounds again by now.’
Paxton made no reply, but simply knocked on the library door and opening it, stepped aside to allow the doctor to precede him into the room.
Thomas Penvarrow was seated at a desk in the window, papers laid out in front of him. Another man, Mr Staunton the lawyer, Nicholas supposed, was standing next to him, a briefcase open on a chair alongside.
‘Ah, Dr Bryan,’ said Thomas, looking up as they entered. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. I had a little business to discuss with Mr Staunton, but now it is all settled, I should like you to be a witness to my signature, if you please.’
The document in front of Thomas was covered with a blank sheet of paper, except for the place where Thomas would sign and the space for the signatures of the two witnesses.
Mr Staunton handed Thomas the pen, saying, ‘Now then, sir, if you would be so good as to append your signature here.’ The old man took the pen and having dipped it carefully into the inkwell, leaned forward to sign his name. As he did so, Nicholas saw the words:
Signed by the said Thomas Jocelyn Penvarrow of Trescadinnick Port Felec Cornwall
In our presence and attested by us in the presence of each other.
Thomas inscribed his name and then scattered sand across his signature.
‘Now you, Paxton,’ said Thomas.
Paxton stepped forward and signed his name above where his name and address had already been filled in. As he moved away from the desk, Nicholas stepped forward and was handed the pen. He took his time dipping the nib into the inkwell, before leaning over to sign his name in the prescribed place. As he steadied his hand on the paper, his fingers edged the blank sheet a little further from the document. Little was revealed from this, just the single phrase set my hand to this my, but it was enough for Nicholas Bryan to be certain that this was indeed Thomas’s new will. When he’d signed he stepped away, apparently unaware that he had disturbed the covering paper, and said, ‘And now, sir, if you have no further need of me, I’ll bid you good afternoon as I must continue on my rounds. Patients will be expecting me.’
Thomas barely acknowledged his farewell, muttering to himself, ‘Well, at least there was some use in your coming here this afternoon.’
As Nicholas was about to leave, Louisa came walking up the drive. She called his name, looking concerned. ‘Dr Bryan. Did my father send for you? Is all well?’
‘No, Mrs Leroy,’ Nicholas said, smiling. ‘I was passing on my rounds and I just looked in to see him.’
‘And?’
‘And I listened to his chest. I think he has a congestion of the lungs. He should rest more and if you can persuade him to take the powders I left with you before, I think it may ease him.’
‘I’ll do my best, Doctor,’ replied Louisa. ‘But he dislikes being told to rest.’
Nicholas laughed. ‘I’m sure he does,’ he agreed. ‘Even now he has his lawyer with him.’
‘His lawyer!’ exclaimed Louisa, raising her hands in despair. ‘I must go in.’
Nicholas watched her scurry into the house and smiled as he drove away.
Indoors Paxton had returned to the kitchen, and Thomas poured himself and Mr Staunton a glass of brandy.
‘I shan’t ask where this came from,’ Mr Staunton said as he sipped his drink. ‘But I do have to say it’s exceedingly good.’
Thomas smiled. ‘And I shan’t tell you. But it’s good enough to celebrate a new heir for Trescadinnick,’ he said.
‘And you say Miss Ross is going to marry Mr Leroy?’ queried the lawyer. ‘At least that way everything’s tied up right and tight, and he’s not entirely cut out.’
‘Oh yes,’ Thomas agreed nonchalantly. ‘It suits everybody, but of course, nothing announced yet.’
Mr Staunton took the hint and said, slightly affronted, ‘I never discuss my clients’ business, Mr Penvarrow. Never.’
‘Get down off your high horse, Staunton,’ snapped Thomas. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you did. I was simply pointing out that it isn’t common knowledge yet, you understand?’
Young Mr Staunton, the third of that name, knew it would be damaging to the firm to lose Thomas Penvarrow as a client and he bit back any further comment, wondering as he did so, how his father and more so his grandfather had managed to have dealings with this autocratic old man, without having a catastrophic quarrel. As soon as he’d finished his brandy, Staunton called for his horse, ready to take his leave.
‘A good afternoon’s work,’ Thomas said, shaking his hand. ‘An excellent afternoon’s work.’
Is it? wondered his lawyer. I’m not so sure.