Page 19 of Storm of Bells
Still retreating, I shrugged. ‘Well…a badcough stinks. I can remember back when I was young and caught theflu, and had only my aunt to take care of me. I definitely couldhave used something to sweeten my disposition—or hers, for thatmatter.’ I brightened. ‘Hey! That’s an idea. We could add a newline of sweets for the mothers, too! I bet that would—’
The expression in Mr Ambrose’s eyes made meclose my mouth.
‘So that’s it? You based an entireadvertising campaign onpersonal childhood experience?’
‘Err…I gather that isn’t how one’s supposedto do it?’
‘It. Is. Not.’
‘Oh.’
‘Do you have any idea how much a nationwidecampaign costs?’
I did. I knew exactly. After all, I hadauthorized the thing. But if I mentioned the figure floating aroundat the back of my mind, that was not likely to improve Mr Ambrose’smood.
‘No, Sir.’
‘At least a thousand pounds!’
I widened my eyes. ‘What? So much?’
Then it probably wouldn’t be wise to mentionI had spent twice that amount. Maybe hiring those ten balloons as apublicity stunt had been a bit over the top. But what could I say?Kids loved balloons.
‘A thousand pounds! A thousand pounds downthe sinkhole…I…I could…’
Mr Ambrose broke off and a rough, indistinctnoise came from the back of his throat.
‘Do you have trouble with your throat, Sir?’I asked solicitously and, reaching into my pocket, withdrew acolourful paper bag. ‘Here. I hear these are very effective. I’msure you’ll feel much more relaxed after you’ve tried—’
‘Out! Out, Mr Linton!’
‘As you wish, Sir. Right away, Sir.’ Giving ahurried bow, I dashed out of the office.
***
When I approached my uncle’s house thatevening, I could hear the sounds of the fray from quite somedistance away.
‘White!’
‘Red!’
‘White!’
‘You…insane…! Impossible…!’
‘No taste…! None whatever…!’
Somewhere inside the house, a door slammed.Or maybe it was the sound of a club hitting someone’s head. Younever knew with these friendly pre-wedding discussions.
Cautiously, I opened the front door andglanced from right to left. No one seemed to be around. Softfootsteps came from above, so at least one of my sisters wasupstairs. There was also clinking, and a bit of grumbling. ProbablyUncle Bufford counting money. Nobody was in the immediate vicinity.It was now or never!
Hurriedly stepping inside, I dashed down thecorridor towards the stairs that led up to my room. But I hadhardly gone half the way when a door to my left opened and mylittle sister Ella stalked out.
‘Incredible! Can you believe that girl?’
‘Err…what?’ I enquired, retreating a step,just in case.
‘She wants violets in the bouquet.Violets!’
