Uncle Ken and I

Mary Tomlinson

Description

A chance encounter with James, an Englishman working in Cannes, causes Frances to believe there must be a hidden secret in her late uncle`s family. As memories of her uncle come back to her, this renews her belief of what a truly remarkable character he was, and she gradually reaches a deeper level of understanding of the role he played in her life. Frances becomes obsessed with solving the mystery of the family secret.

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 30 avril 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528963992
• Langue: English

Extrait

Uncle Ken and I
Mary Tomlinson
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-04-30
Uncle Ken and I About the Author Dedication Copyright Information 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 Acknowledgements
About the Author
After growing up in Manchester and Yorkshire, Mary Tomlinson completed her studies in Liverpool before marrying a Norwegian and moving to Norway. They had two children, a daughter and a son, and Mary was at home with them until they started school. She then worked as a teacher for many years before writing her first novel, Uncle Ken and I .
Dedication
For my Uncle Ken
Copyright Information
Copyright © Mary Tomlinson (2019)
The right of Mary Tomlinson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528923019 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528923026 (Kindle e-book)
ISBN 9781528963992 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
1
“May I be of assistance?” a deep, male voice awakened Frances from her thoughts.
James Worthing, Deputy Manager of Barclays Bank in Cannes, had been asked if he had the time to help an English woman with a transaction. At the sound of his voice, the woman turned, her expectant smile vanishing the same instant she laid eyes on him. A look of shock and puzzlement appeared as she stuttered, “Uh… Uh …” The look seemed to James to cloud over and he noticed signs of buckling at the knees. He lunged forward just in time to break her fall as she fainted. James carried the unconscious woman into his office and instructed two of the young, female bank clerks to place the woman in the recovery position, on her side, just in case she would be sick on regaining consciousness.
As it had seemed to be the sight of James that had caused the fainting, he decided it was wise to keep out of the way until the woman appeared to be fully recovered. Apart from being mystified as to why the faint occurred, James felt quite proud. In spite of his fifty-eight years, he had reacted quickly enough to catch the fainting woman. Not only that, he had carried her a few yards to his office. Admittedly, she was slightly built but, nevertheless, he felt better about himself than he’d felt for some time now.
Frances gradually became aware that she was in an office that was strange to her. Two young women were studying her with worried expressions.
“Are you feeling better now? Can I get you a glass of water?” It was the young woman with a blonde ponytail who was bending over Frances, asking the questions.
“Yes, thank you. That’s very kind of you,” murmured Frances.
Most of all, she would have liked to escape from the bank after making a spectacle of herself, but she was feeling sick and wobbly and wasn’t sure she was able to walk away just yet. While one assistant went to fetch a glass of water, the other helped Frances to a chair.
“I’m so sorry for causing problems for you,” apologised Frances. “I really am confused because I’ve never ever fainted before.”
Unsure as to whether or not the young woman had understood, Frances lent back in the chair and closed her eyes.
A glass was handed to Frances and she took a sip of water. Then, leaning back in her chair again, she closed her eyes and wished the ground could swallow her up. How she hated being the centre of attention. She drank some more water and was soon starting to look revived. This was reported to James and not long after, he entered his office, somewhat cautiously. Frances caught her breath, but she forced herself to breathe normally and said, “I must apologise for causing so much trouble and occupying your office. I shall not take up any more of your time now. I can come back another day.”
From feeling cold and shivery a moment ago, Frances now felt her cheeks burning.
James realised that the woman was babbling on because she was, no doubt, embarrassed about fainting in the bank. He decided he would take charge of the situation.
“We can make an appointment for eleven thirty tomorrow morning,” said James. “Then you will be feeling better. I just need your name, please.”
If he didn’t take control, he felt she might disappear forever. He was feeling quite chivalrous towards this woman, having saved her from falling.
“Here is my business card,” he said, handing the card to her.
Frances, keen to make her escape, gave her name, “Frances Larsen. Eleven thirty tomorrow is fine. See you then. Goodbye.”
Once outside, Frances breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was just one hell of an experience. I don’t think I shall be going back for tomorrow’s appointment. I don’t know what I was thinking about, going there in the first place.” Frances decided to walk back to the flat to clear her head. She strolled up Boulevard de la République and entered the flat. Once inside, she slumped down on the sofa, still feeling dazed.
It was two years since Frances last visited Le Cannet. Then it had been together with her husband, Jon. They had enjoyed their stay, just as they had done each year, the last ten years. There had been the usual activities: walking, golf and tennis and absolutely no warning of Jon’s heart problems. Back at home in Bergen, he had collapsed at work one day and been rushed to hospital but they had not managed to revive him. The fact that both their children and grandchildren lived nearby, as well as Frances having a teaching job meant that she was not allowed to sink too deeply into apathy. Also, the twice weekly tennis matches demanded that an effort be made to get out and interact socially with others. Frances had consciously tried to lift her head and square her shoulders in order to counteract the dreadful heaviness inside her. At the end of the school year, Frances had taken early retirement and with help from Sara and Thomas, her children, she had sold the house and moved into a flat in Bergen.
Frances spoke often on the phone with her brother, Brian, who lived in England with his partner, Lise. It was Lise who owned the flat in Le Cannet. When Frances had complained in early autumn about the enormous amount of rain falling on the West coast of Norway, Lise had said, “I think you should go and stay in the flat. The sunshine will be good for you.” Having retired, Frances was free to go away at short notice and she was soon installed in the flat. The first week had gone by quickly. She had enough to do: cleaning, stocking up with food and she had been to Cannes and found Christmas presents for most of the family. The second week had not started so well. Frances had had her fill of shopping and was longing for fresh country air and a walk in the hills. Jon had always been restless. He was the one to take the initiative and suggest walks, or a round of golf, or just a sightseeing trip in the car. Frances was often quite happy to be lazy and sit reading a book. Now she had finished reading both the books she’d brought with her and was bored. Looking around the room for inspiration, she had suddenly spotted something blue just under the sofa. She had bent down and picked up a bank card. It was hers, so it must have fallen out of her purse at some stage. It was a card that had not been used much for many years, a Barclays card for an offshore account. The account had been as good as empty the last five years, but actually closing the account had been postponed time and again.
Of course, she’d thought. There’s a Barclays Bank in Cannes. I can close the account there. In fact, I’ll take the bus to Cannes and do it straight away.
At the time it had seemed like a brilliant solution to the problem of boredom, but doubts had set in as she entered the bank. Starting to get cold feet, she had decided that relying on her French could result in misunderstandings, so she had asked to be assisted by someone who was fluent in English.
Now, lying back on the sofa, she was reliving the whole sequence of events. She was puzzled by her own actions.
“How on earth did I come to act on impulse like that? It’s so unlike me. Normally I weigh things up carefully before doing anything.”
She decided that it was the sight of the blue Barclays card that had triggered the whole episode. That, in itself, was a real mystery because all her cards fitted snugly in her purse and none had ever fallen out before. Then, if she considered the outcome of the events, she had come face to face with a man, who resembled her Uncle Ken to such an uncanny degree that she had fainted.
“I’m not a superstitious person,” she said to herself. “But it’s almost as if ‘fate’ or ‘Uncle Ken’ has been manipulating the whole sequence of events.”
She felt slightly uncomfortable about the fact that she was even entertaining the idea of some kind of supernatural involvement, but she could not reject the possibility off hand. That meant she would have to keep the appointment with James the following day. Frances knew quite a bit about her uncle’s family and could not see any possibility of a link between the man in the bank and her uncle, but she would try to keep an open mind.
2
James had been working in Cannes for seven months now. He and the manager had agreed on the division of labour between them and both had settled into their routines. His French was gradually becoming more and more fluent, and he was e