Linksfield

6. Stranger in the Fog

I was strangely excited for Joseph to see where I worked and indeed who I worked for. He'd only ever seen me in tatty clothes, mending roads and fixing things. He'd never seen me in my last two work positions, working my way up the serving ladder.

"Jack, slow down."

"Give over. You used to be the fastest runner of the four of us. You and James had fist fights over that."

A smile found his face briefly. "Long time ago. I don't do a lot of running these days."

I tapped his stomach. "It shows."

"Cheeky git."

He followed me to the study and waited next to me as I tapped on the door in a rather excitable fashion. "Sir, it's me." I tapped again. "I've got a surprise."

"I hate surprises," came the reply.

"Well, good, now you know it's here, you won't have to worry about it."

"Just jolly well stop talking in riddles, Boys, and come inside."

He was still muttering something when we entered, and surprisingly, he was at his desk, keeping correspondence, pen to paper, working fervently with a cup of coffee beside him. The red under eye circles made it appear as though he hadn't been to bed. He had! I had put him there myself.

"Who's this?" he said, looking up from his writing, covering the papers with a book and then noticing Joe's dog-collar. "Clergy?"

"Yeah but not just any old church riff-raff," I said, nudging my brother forward to exhibit him. "This is my brother. He's a vicar, Joseph Boys. Joe we all call him."

"Sorry for the intrusion, Sir," Joe said apologetically. "My little brother never had many manners."

"Don't I know it." Monty rose from the leather chair and shook my brother's hands. He glanced him over. "Ah, I see the resemblance. Though you have more height than your brother."

"Thanks," I muttered.

Monty was far more friendly with Joe than he had been with me at our first meeting and I watched in open-mouthed bewilderment as he eloquently participated in a conversation with another member of humanity. I think it must have been Joe's calm demeanour—it always made everyone ready to open up to him in an instant and divulge their secrets. It was a good job my brother was an honest man and a vicar at that, people always seemed to trust the vicar.

They spoke so much that in the end I had to drag Joe away, take him back down to the kitchen for a spot of early lunch. I wasn't sure where the morning had gone in such a hurry but Monty kindly let me spend the afternoon with my brother before returning to work again at dinnertime and for that I was grateful. I was so keen to spend time with him.

When were arrived in the servants' hall, Mrs. Orwell was already serving the lunch, piling sandwiches onto Joe's plate as if he were a king rather than the ordinary chap I'd grown up with. Frank entered the room a moment later, sweating and looking confused, pacing back and forth, his expression blank.

"What's the matter, Frank, you seen a ghost?" Doris asked, grabbing his arm and pulling him onto a chair next to her.

"Might have done," he said, looking at her. "Was out doing some errands. It's real foggy out there, but I knew it was him."

We all looked at each other.

"Who was who?" I asked.

"He what left all mysterious. The old manservant, what's-his-name."

"Herbert Carey," Mary Boyle said, threading a needle.

"The bloke you all said was probably bumped off?"